“Do you have good memories of how your father spent the day with you and your brother?” she asked.
“Not really,” Brock said. “But we always touched base by phone. I miss being able to give him a call.”
“Hmm. Understandable.” She gave him a squeeze. “I spent every Father’s Day indulging in fantasies about how a father would teach me to pitch and catch. Or swing a bat. Or play golf. Or read the Sunday cartoons. Or just tell me super-wise things about life.”
“Your father missed out by not getting to know you,” Brock said, turning toward her.
“I missed out, too,” she said.
“Have you ever met him?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He moved to Chicago and never came back. My grandfather stepped in to give my mother and me financial support, but—” She shrugged. “I was more of an irritation and burden than anything else.”
“Irritation,” he repeated, sliding his finger over her jawline. “You know that pearls are created by the irritation of a grain of sand.”
“I’ve never been called a pearl before,” she said.
“Can’t imagine why,” he said, rubbing his hands over her shoulders. “Seems obvious to me.”
She smiled. “You’re a charmer.”
He shook his head. “I’m just calling it the way I see it.”
“I have a small gift for you,” she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“For Father’s Day,” she said.
“I’m not a father yet.”
“Close enough,” she said. “Check out your BlackBerry.”
The smile on her face jacked up his curiosity. “What have you been up to?”
Her smile grew wider. “Don’t ask me. Check it out for yourself.”
Brock went to his phone charger and picked up the BlackBerry. Noticing there was a message, he pushed the button.
“Turn up the sound,” she said.
He listened as a disco tune began to play and the ultrasound image of his child danced across the tiny screen. He felt joy shoot through him. “Look at him move,” he said. “Or her.” He watched, amazed at the sight of the tiny little combination of him and Elle. Unable to resist, he played the video again, staring at his dancing baby. When it ended, he played it again.
Elle gave a soft, throaty giggle. “You like it,” she said.
He met her gaze. “I do.”
“Here’s your Father’s Day card,” she said, handing him an envelope.
Feeling a strange dip in his gut, he tore open the envelope and read the card. As he read, it hit him hard that his life was changing. Moved, he stared at the card and wondered if his mother had ever given his father such a card. And if she had, Brock wondered if his father had cared. He’d known his father wasn’t particularly emotional. James Maddox had been determined to build the most successful advertising agency in San Francisco. James Maddox had also wanted a beautiful wife. James Maddox had also wanted children. James Maddox got what he wanted.
He’d been a demanding man. At times, Brock had sweated meeting those high standards. He knew his brother had struggled with those standards, soared past them, and flipped the bird at them. Brock actually admired his brother for that.
As much as Brock had revered his father, he’d never felt close to him. Did he want that same kind of relationship with his own child? Brock frowned.
“What is it?”
“Just thinking,” he muttered.
“About?” she asked, lifting her hand to his cheek.
“Being a father. Figuring out what kind of father I need to be,” he said. “Different than the dad you didn’t have. Different than the father I did have.”
Elle swallowed audibly. “You’re going to be amazing,” she said, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked.
“I know you have an amazing mind and incredible drive. But I also know something a lot of other people don’t know. You, Brock Maddox, have an awesome heart.”
Nine
As Brock reviewed some new copy for the Prentice campaign, his intercom buzzed. “Yes?”
“Flynn Maddox is here,” his assistant said.
Brock smiled. “Send him in.”
Flynn burst through the door. “How’s married life?”
“I could ask you the same,” Brock said, standing and slapping his brother on the back.
“Couldn’t be better,” Flynn said. “I just want to thank you again for keeping those divorce papers out of my hands all those years ago.”
“Your marital problems were partly my fault. I realized that,” he said. “I’m glad you’re happy now.”