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last thirty-seven years while he lived his life and built a family of his own. She was trying to be adult about it, but part of her envied Constance, and she hadn’t even met the woman.
    It wasn’t that Dawn felt neglected. She had her own very sheltered childhood. Her mother had made sure that she and her sisters got everything they needed and mostly everything they wanted, but Dawn had always felt the emptiness of not having her father around. She had once wanted the affection and protection of a father that money couldn’t buy. Meanwhile, her real father had been doting on Constance, showering his “only” daughter with his adoration and attention.
    Dawn shoved aside her hurt for now. What’s done is done. The past is in the past, she reminded herself.
    â€œPlease keep going. Tell me more,” she insisted.
    He wavered, looking as if he wasn’t sure if he should continue.
    â€œWhere did you grow up?” she asked, trying again to draw him out.
    â€œWell, I’m . . . I’m a boy from Detroit who made good. I grew up poor in this little run-down . . .”
    Herb then began to tell Dawn the story of his life. She found out that the album he brought with him contained pictures of dozens and dozens of relatives. They hunched over the pages together, examining the pictures and laughing at the stories he told. She found out that he was a man who had pulled himself up out of poverty. He had worked his way through college and grad school and eventually started a multimillion-dollar software company back when most people didn’t own computers. And she was shocked to find he dabbled in art back in the day.
    â€œMy work was nothing compared to the ones you sell in your gallery,” he admitted humbly, “but I’ve handled a paintbrush or two in my day.”
    He told her more about Raquel and Constance. She wished she could say the more she heard about them, the more she looked forward to one day meeting them, but in actuality, she felt the opposite. His wife sounded overbearing and his daughter sounded like a pampered princess who was accustomed to getting her way. He added that Constance was getting married in the spring, and when he started to rave about how beautiful the wedding and bride were going to be, Dawn had to quickly change the subject. She just couldn’t take it anymore.
    Dawn told him a bit more about herself and her family. She avoided talking about her mother, since it seemed to be a touchy subject. She regaled him with stories about her sisters and their antics that made him almost delirious with laughter.
    â€œWould you look at that sunset?” he said softly after she finished one of her stories. His gaze was focused over her shoulder at the shop’s floor-to-ceiling windows.
    Dawn turned in surprise to see a bright orange sun descending behind the darkened city landscape. “ Sunset? We haven’t been sitting here that long, have we?”
    Her father pulled back one of his shirt cuffs and glanced at his Rolex. He raised his gray eyebrows in surprise. “We’ve been here for three hours and fifteen minutes, to be exact. I didn’t know it was that late either.”
    â€œOh, I’m sorry!” She pushed herself away from the table. “I didn’t meant to—”
    â€œNo! No, please don’t apologize. I enjoyed myself.” He grabbed his cane and bit by bit rose to his feet. “But I really must be going.” He grinned. “Dawn, I had a wonderful time today.”
    She tugged on her coat. “So did I.”
    And she meant it. She did have a good time speaking with him and learning more about him. She thought he was a fascinating man and very humble, despite his many accomplishments. He also had a great sense of humor. She was glad she had come to meet him.
    â€œWe should do this again,” he said, leaning on his cane and gazing up at her.
    â€œWe should.”
    They began to walk toward