Snapshot: Chapter 16

Three Years Earlier

Las Vegas

“S

he’ll be here any minute,” I tell Grandma as I quickly text Lennox back.

Me

Take your time. The front door is unlocked. Come right in.

“She was next door helping her cousin finish up a photo shoot. She said we can start eating without her if you’d like.” I nod toward the bags of takeout on my kitchen island.

Grandma scowls at me. “Where are your manners? We’ll wait for our guest of honor.”

“Fair enough.” I start unpacking bags, intent on at least plating them and setting the table. I ordered way too much food for three people. Probably out of nerves.

I’d been in Las Vegas for nearly half a year when Grandma’s curiosity got the best of her, and she wanted to see how my new life was going. My life here is a far cry from the luxury back home. I’ve barely touched the money she released from my trust, but Grandma seems more impressed with me than ever. She raved about my guest room, which was fake generous of her because, basically, it’s a bed topped with a comforter set that I bought solely for her visit. The walls are bare outside of one Ansel Adams photograph I hung opposite of the bed. I also did remember to buy fresh towels—the fluffiest ones I could find at the department store, along with some hand soap. But I’ll admit, it’s the bare minimum. Without any personal staff, my home décor skills are nonexistent.

I’m not nervous because of Grandma’s visit. It’s because on her last evening here she asked if she could meet my girlfriend. There were a hundred different options besides inviting Lennox over, especially because she is not the girl I’m currently entangled with. But the truth is, I wanted Grandma to know Lennox. Subconsciously, it’s important to me.

“So, Leah is a photographer?” Grandma asks as she fetches wine glasses from my cupboard. “I’d love to see her work.”

I hold up two fingers. “Just two glasses, Grandma. Lennox doesn’t like wine. She drinks beer or cocktails. And she’s not a photographer; her cousin Finn is. When she’s not waitressing, she pitches in at his studio next door.”

“Lennox?” Grandma asks, raising her brows. “I thought you were dating a young woman named Leah?”

“Sort of. It’s complicated,” I lie. It’s really not. Leah and I get along just fine. We’ve fooled around a few times now. We mostly talk about diving. Her ex-husband would never let her spend money on scuba diving, so now that they’re divorced, she’s fully indulging. She likes my stories about deep-sea diving, and she thoroughly enjoys the employee discount on equipment. I care about her, but it’s hard to tell if I have feelings for her.

It’s been the same routine for the past three times we’ve hung out. We talk, she sucks me off, I return the favor, and then she leaves. I always invite her to stay, even though I’m not much of a cuddler. But, like me, I think Leah prefers to sleep alone.

“Leah’s a nice girl,” I add, feeling guilty.

“Why am I not meeting her this evening?”

“We’re not officially dating. We’re…taking it slow.” I really don’t want to say the words fucking around to my grandmother, so I omit a further explanation. “Lennox is my closest friend here. You said you wanted to know what kind of company I’m keeping… She’s my favorite person in Vegas, so I wanted you to meet her. That’s all.”

“Dex, honey, would you like to know how juggling two women typically ends up?” Grandma runs her finger across her throat, flashing me a mocking smile.

“I’m not juggling two women, Grandma. Lennox is seeing someone.” At least, I think.

Lennox has been rather secretive about Alan. Which makes me even more uncomfortable. She’s keeping their private life very private. All I know is that Alan is looking for something serious. They are taking their time to get to know each other before making any real commitments. Prick. That’s the perfect way to get a girl all weak-kneed for you.

I know he’s taking her out weekly. She’s slower to respond to text messages lately. A few Fridays ago, after Leah had left me for the evening, I asked if Lennox wanted to grab a decent meal. I was sick of quick takeout and was craving her company. She turned me down, saying she already ate with Alan, but she highly recommended the new sushi place that just opened right outside the Strip.

It’s driving me crazy. I want to know if she’s sleeping with him. Does she have real feelings for him? But she’s been nothing but tight-lipped, treating her budding romance like it’s sacred. I’ll admit, paying this guy to disappear and forget her name has crossed my mind several times. It’s good I don’t know his full name, where he works, or what he looks like.

“Do you remember the last time you had a girl who was your best friend?”

“I don’t,” I reply. I can’t even remember the last time I had a best friend, period. People walk in and out of my life like I’m a revolving door.

The large paper bag crinkles loudly as I pull out several round aluminum containers of plain pasta. I ordered sauce on the side, unsure what Lennox preferred. Grandma’s order is usually the same. Eggplant Parmesan with a side of vodka sauce paired with a cabernet or pinot noir. I am a fan of simple—spaghetti with meatballs. When I asked Lennox what she wanted, her reply was, “Whatever is great,” which was zero percent helpful. So, I ordered everything off the menu.

“Her name was Maddie. Sweet girl. You met her in a children’s music class. You were four. She was almost six.”

“Older woman,” I murmur. “Nice.”

“You two were inseparable for about six weeks. Your mother and I were positive you’d met your soulmate.”

I laugh. “What happened?” I have no recollection of this, so no chance Maddie stuck around. “Did she move or something?”

Grandma yanks the stopper out of the bottle of Pinot Noir she started yesterday. “She asked to be your girlfriend and hold your hand. You said no and she never forgave you. She mooned you and then refused to speak to you ever again.”

“She mooned me?” I ask.

“I’m assuming it was six-year-old speak for ‘fuck you.’”

“Lovely.” I find the baguette of crusty bread in the second oversized bag of takeout. Grandma raises her brow at me as I tear a piece off with the gusto of a caveman. “Why are you telling me this?” I ask Grandma before tearing off a piece of bread and popping it into my mouth.

“I thought I’d warn Ms. Lennox that if she wants to stay in your life, not to reveal her feelings for you, keep her hands to herself, and her ass fully covered.” Grandma smirks as she fills two wine glasses halfway.

“What makes you think Lennox has feelings for me? You’ve never even met her.”

“Oh, Dex. So smart, yet still such a man. She’s spending her Saturday evening having dinner at home with you and your old grandma. What does that tell you?” Cradling the bulb of the glass in her palm, Grandma takes a long sip of wine.

In any other circumstance, I’d make an excuse. But I can’t lie to Grandma. I’ve tried. She sees right through me.

“Have you ever met someone who tethers you to the earth? All those times before when I wanted a different life… I don’t know. She helps me see the world differently. I like her reality better than my own.”

I can’t read Grandma’s expression. Her face tenses as she studies my eyes. Her bright red lips are pressed together but not pursed.

She’s silent, so I continue, “That’s why you wanted me to come out here, isn’t it? Perspective?”

Grandma sets her wine glass down. “You love her.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“No, Grandma. Nothing like that, I just…” Well, I don’t know. What the fuck else is this, then? A lonely, rich boy’s puppy love? Wanting what I can’t have? “I think I could one day,” I admit. “But I also don’t think I’m destined for love. I know how Grandpa treated you. I don’t want that for Lennox or any woman I love.”

“Don’t want what for her, Dex?”

“A lonely life. It’s not fair. I know what my duties are. What you and Grandpa left me to take care of. My life here in Vegas is a break, not an escape.”

Grandma steps towards me and places her palms on either side of my cheeks. Her cool hands are trembling. “Choose love over fair. Over duties. Escape, Dex. Do you understand me? Love, love, love. Fight for it. Obsess over it. It’s the only thing that makes sense at the end of your life. How do I get you to understand that? You should have loyalty to absolutely nothing else except love.”

I place my hands over hers. They feel smaller than usual, and the tips feel icy as she rubs them under my eyes. “Grandma, are you okay?” This is not the Dottie Hessler I’m familiar with. She’s strong, determined, and takes no shit. I don’t recognize her pleading tone, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve left when she needs me most. “Do you need me to come back home?”

She shakes her head, her eyes nearly watering. “No, Dex. Stay. Just please don’t make the same mistakes as me. It doesn’t have to make sense for it to be exactly right. Tell me more about her.”

“She’s a ferocious little thing. She’s so honest and earnest. Heart wide open all the time. She’s a philosophical genius and doesn’t even know it. Unlike the rest of us, it doesn’t seem like she’s alive to accomplish or acquire anything. She just exists to get to know the best version of herself. She’s brave because she’s completely unashamed to admit when she’s scared. Her honesty is addicting. I don’t know how to explain it…she’s changing my mind about everything. Maybe changing my heart.”

Grandma returns to her wine glass and smiles. “I like her already.”

Lennox

They didn’t hear me come in. Dex told me the front door was unlocked, so I slipped in without knocking, but I halted in the hallway when I heard his grandma telling him to choose love. It didn’t seem like a conversation I should interrupt. Instead, I shut my mouth and listened.

Love, love, love. Fight for it. Obsess over it. I think I’ll hear her words on repeat in my head forever. Such persuasive conviction in her plea.

The moment would’ve stayed sweet and endearing had I not heard Dex gushing over Leah right afterward. She’s changing my mind… Maybe changing my heart. Those words are engrained in my brain, too.

It’s odd, though. I talked to Leah a couple weeks ago when she and Dex started hanging out. She likes him. Of course, she does. Who wouldn’t? But she seemed so nonchalant. She even told me she had no intention of becoming exclusive. I guess I didn’t realize how quickly and deeply they’d connected in the seemingly five seconds since Leah and I had that conversation. I think I’ve been on more dates with Alan than Leah’s been on with Dex. Admittedly, I’ve been moving so slowly with Alan we’re practically moving backward. There was a little part of me still holding onto the idea of me and Dex. But apparently, I’m pining over a man who’s falling in love…with another woman.

And his grandma is just as smitten. So, what the hell am I doing here?

I grip the shoebox in my hands a little tighter. This is why. Stop it, Lennox. Dex said he wanted to just be friends. Accept that. Get this stupid fantasy under control and actually be his friend. The kind of friend who digs up an old shoebox of memories for his grandmother’s long, lost friend.

This is why Dex asked me to meet Mrs. Dottie Hessler. She’s actually the one who bought Jacob’s dive shop as a present for Dex. Weird present. If my grandparents bought me a labor-intensive small business for my birthday, we’d have some words. But I have a feeling for Dottie, it’s nostalgia.

Sucking in a deep breath, I announce myself before I have to endure the painful stab of Dex proclaiming his love for Leah out loud.

“Knock, knock,” I chirp as I enter the kitchen, holding my fist in the air, doing knocking charades. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.”

Grandma Dottie takes my breath away. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so elegant. She’s wearing a cream-colored flowy jumpsuit. While she looks comfortable, all she’d need is a stiletto to wear that outfit right to the Met Gala. Her jet-black hair, which matches Dex’s, looks fluffy and soft, but it doesn’t move an inch as she makes a beeline to me, arms outstretched.

“I’m not usually a big hugger, but you are just…” Grandma Dottie wraps her arms around me and squeezes tightly. I didn’t have time to put my shoebox down, so I’m unable to hug her back. Instead, I rest my chin on her shoulder, trying to return her enthusiastic affection. She pulls away to get a good look at me. “So beautiful,” she finishes.

“Thank you. You smell incredible, Mrs. Hessler.”

She doesn’t say anything. She just continues to beam at me, holding the outer sides of my arms. Naturally, I feel the need to fill the awkward lull.

“I didn’t mean for that to come off weird. Is that, um…well, your perfume is very nice. It smells rich.” Shit. Did that sound accusing? “Not overly fancy. I just mean very warm and full. Like amber or cashmere…or, now come to think of it, maybe it’s laundry detergent? Or, I don’t know if you can put that outfit in a regular wash.” Dear Lord. What the hell am I rambling about?

I look over Grandma Dottie’s shoulder to see Dex silently laughing. He clutches his chest. “What?” I snap at him.

“Oh, I’ve just never seen you this uncomfortable before. It’s pretty adorable.”

“Ass,” I say, then immediately cover my mouth, clutching tightly to my box with the other hand. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hessler. Forgot my manners. But I’m not uncomfortable, I promise.” Just fucking nervous. I really want her to like me for some reason.

She smirks at me. “He is being an ass, isn’t he?”

“Two against one. Wonderful,” Dex murmurs.

Grandma Dottie ignores him and drops her arms. “First of all, none of this ‘Mrs. Hessler’ business. Please call me Dottie. And thank you for noticing. It’s my favorite perfume. It’s called Pardonné, or Forgiven in English. It’s from a little boutique in France. I stock up every time I visit. You can’t get it anywhere else. My attempt at staying a touch unique in a world where every woman seems to smell like Chanel No. 5.”

I chuckle. “Right on the nose. My mom wears that,” I say. “So you spend a lot of time in France?”

“Not anymore. Infrequent visits. Dex and I lived there for about six months in his adolescence, though.”

“I think closer to four,” Dex says from behind us. “Just enough time for Olivier to completely give up on me learning to cook French cuisine.”

Dottie drops her arms and laughs heartily. “Oh, goodness, he nearly burned down the kitchen.”

“Well, flambé is not a skillset for a preteen. We learned that the hard way.”

A loud chime comes from Dottie’s smartwatch. She briefly glances at the notification, and the tiniest flicker of irritation crosses her face. She recomposes herself quickly and says, “Pardon me for a moment. Emergency on the East Coast. I’ll be right back.” She doesn’t walk, she glides with elegance right out of the kitchen, through the open-concept living room, and up the stairs.

As soon as Dottie disappears from view, I set my shoebox down on the counter and make my way to Dex. I wrap one arm around his thick frame, giving him a friendly hug. “Thanks for inviting me. You smell nice, too. Like food.”

He chuckles. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

He looks me up and down and grimaces. “Is this a new dress? Did I mention we’re eating in?”

“It’s not a new dress.” Lie. No…half-truth. I borrowed it from a friend and paid zero dollars for it. I needed a “meet the grandparents” dress. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s not your usual colorful flair. You look very nice. I’m just used to your outfits being an adventure.”

I shrug. “I have layers. Sometimes I like simple.”

We actually match tonight. My black dress is sleek and form-fitting, but the length touches my knees so it’s a combination of allure and elegance, or so my bartender friend Cass, whom I borrowed this dress from, told me. Dex’s dress shirt is also black, sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, showing off his thick, masculine forearms.

“Well, now I feel bad for not taking you guys out somewhere nice.”

“Out?” I scoff like the notion is ridiculous. “Then I would’ve had to put on underwear. Staying in is perfect.”

Dex levels a stare at me, his expression flattening, and I feel the heat in my cheeks. “You’re not wearing⁠—”

“Just a bad joke, Dex. Sorry.” The guilt floods through me for hoping that sparked his interest. For constantly wanting what’s not mine. “Is Leah joining us tonight?”

Dex barely jostles his head. “No.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I mentioned my grandma was in town, and she said she’d give me some space. Haven’t heard from her all week. I figured that was pretty clear.”

I lift one eyebrow. Yet, you say she’s changing your heart and mind? Men. Literally walking contradictions. “Oh, okay. Do you think she’ll be bothered I’m here?”

He shrugs simply. “I’d hope not. We’re not an item.”

“But all that stuff you just said? I’m confused.”

He squints at me as he crosses his arms, leaning back against the kitchen island. “What stuff?”

I palm my forehead and let out a low grumble. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was trying to wait for the right moment to cut in. I heard what you told your grandma about Leah. That was all so sweet. If you’re that into her, I don’t want to jeopardize your relationship. You should tell her I’m here just to clear the air. I asked Alan before I agreed to come.”

Dex opens his mouth, stalls, then clamps his lips shut. Whatever he was about to say, he changes his mind. “Why did you need Alan’s permission?”

I scowl, my hand finding my hip. “I didn’t ask for his permission. I asked if he’d be uncomfortable. I keep saying how sick I am of men who play mind games. Why would I behave exactly in the way I’m asking him not to?”

“Okay, then what’d he say about you coming over tonight?”

“He said that he likes how important my friendships are to me and he’d never try to come between that. I think mostly he appreciated that I was honest with him. I tell him about every time you and I hang out.”

Dex swallows hard, anguish strewn across his face as his Adam’s apple rises then falls. “Yet you never mention a thing about Alan to me.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, debating my response. I know that look. There’s absolutely no mistaking it. He’s jealous. “I don’t kiss and tell, Dex. When you and I hang out, I tell Alan how much I’m learning about scuba diving and craft beer. Do you really want to hear about me and Alan sucking face?”

“Fair point. I don’t,” he answers flatly. “Speaking of which. Want a beer?” He tries to step by me to get to the fridge, but I catch his forearm. His eyes narrow in on the spot I’m touching him, so I immediately let him go.

“But…we’re okay, right? I mean, I don’t ask about when you and Leah hang out, purely out of respect. But if Alan bothers you, then maybe that means…”

I mentally beg him to fill in the blank. Here’s his chance. One little declaration. A small moment of honesty and if Dex is feeling remotely close to the way I do, we could⁠—

“It doesn’t,” he says. “I’m happy for you.”

“Good. And I’m happy for you and Leah, too.”

I hope I’m hiding my disappointment. I keep my eyes big but there are pins and needles dotting my face. What the hell? He’s acting jealous… Why won’t he admit it? Then again…why don’t I? Probably because every single time I have hope with this man, it’s theatrically squashed.

“Can I tell you something?” He locks eyes with me. “Sometimes with Leah…it’s really hard to read her because she so easily misses all the signs. I don’t want to come on too strong. But I’m into her…really fucking into her. So much so, it’s driving me insane.” It feels like salt in the wound but I smile and nod like it’s good news. I step out of his way, and he squeezes my shoulder as he passes.

“Why not tell her how you feel?”

He spins around and sucks in his lips as he looks at me. Once again, he’s taking his time to calculate his response. I hate how he does that. It makes me feel like our conversation is a game of chess I’m about to lose. He finally answers, a faraway look in his eyes, “It’s simple. She’s a flight risk. And I can’t afford to lose her.”