by Nikki Bopp
“It was…interesting,” I hedge, avoiding her question. Focusing on the grain of the wooden table, I trace the swirls and wish more than anything that Mia’s burning stare was aimed anywhere else.
“Interesting how?”
“Well,” I take a deep breath before finally lifting my eyes to meet hers over the table. “I think it’s a safe bet that I won't be offered the position.” The clatter of the fork on the glass plate makes Eva jump beside me at the unexpected noise.
“What happened, Jenny?” Mia’s voice is thick with panic, likely her worrying that her own job might be in jeopardy because of the heinous interview she set up for me.
“Don’t worry. They would be stupid to fire you because of it. I just…” I trail off, my eyes watching the path my fingers make along the woodgrain in front of me. Mia’s hand on mine forces my exploration to a halt and my eyes to meet her own. She doesn’t say anything.
“Daniel Price is a dick, okay?” Having heard my words, Eva snaps her head around to glare at me with an adorable frown.
“Mommy, that’s a bad word!”
“You're right, I'm sorry.” Giving her small shoulders a side hug, I push the plate of pancakes closer to her and shake my head when her attention is immediately drawn to the sugary confection.
“I’m sorry, Mia. He was a total jerk, and before I knew it, I was up and yelling at him, and then I stormed out.”
“You yelled at the CEO?” Mia asks, her voice high pitched and a little terrified. “Do you think this is why Mr. Maccini wants to see me? Why do you need to be there? What if they're going to fire me?”
“I don’t think they’d do that.” My hand flaps between us as though brushing the entire idea aside. “Maybe he just wanted to tell you in person that they aren’t going to hire me. Not like I’m going anyways.”
“What do you mean you're not going?”
“Why would I?” I ask rhetorically, “I have no obligation to be there. He isn’t my boss.”
“No, but he's my boss! And you're coming with,” she declares with another glare. Picking up her fork, she shovels a dripping pile of eggs into her mouth, nearly making me vomit in the process. How anyone can eat hot sauce on eggs is beyond me. How anyone can eat hot sauce plain and simple is baffling to me. I've never been able to stomach it before. Maybe it has to do with my inability to eat anything even remotely spicy, or perhaps it's that Jonathan loved to put it on everything.
His favorite meal was my meatloaf and mashed potatoes dinner. He would drizzle the offending liquid over everything and shovel it into his gaping mouth. Then he would just plop whatever dessert we were having that night right in the remains of his dinner. The mixture of hot sauce, mashed potatoes, and pie was enough to run me out of the dining room.
I chose to throw the entire plate away than even attempt to scrape the mess into the trash can.
“I don’t see why I need too..” I trail off, focusing on the quickly cooling pancakes on my plate. Taking a deep, calming breath, I pick up my fork and sink the tines into the sugary deliciousness. My moan of approval is met with another giggle from Eva. She's staring at me with syrup all over her face, and a smile firmly stuck in place.
“They’re yummy!” I exclaim, taking a swig of my milk. Eva nods excitedly, “Yeah! Super yummy!”
We don’t say anything else, instead focusing on the food in front of us until Eva leans back with a moan of discomfort. “I’m full, mommy!”
“Ugh,” Mia chimes in, patting her flat belly. “Me too!”
“Well, I'm glad everyone got full,” pushing Eva’s hair behind her ear, I smile over at Mia.
“Thanks for convincing us to come along. We haven’t been out much since the move.”
“Did you get everything settled okay? Is there anything you need? I’m sure I can lend some things if you do.”
“No, no, I think we’re fine. Just trying to get everything where it needs to be.” A gasp from Eva turns our attention towards the excited toddler.
“Aunt Mia, guess what mom said!”
“What?” Mia leans in her face a mask of excitement and rapture.
“Mom said I can paint my own room!” Mia appropriately gasps in shock and surprise. “What?! How cool is that! What color are you going to paint it?”
“Hmm,” Eva murmurs, pinching her chin as though deep in thought. “Oh! I know! I'm going to paint it ...orange!” she declares, her hands thrown in the air.
“Woah,” I comment. I honestly didn’t know up until this point what color Eva wanted to paint her room. I certainly never would have expected orange. She usually chooses pink when it comes to most things. “Why orange?”
“Well,” dropping her eyes to the table, her hair falls forward to create a curtain between us. Mia sends me a confused look, but I can only shrug in response.
“Hey,” I murmur, taking her hand in mine. “It’s okay. We can paint it any color you want! We could even paint it yellow if you wanted.”
“You hate yellow,” Eva replies, raising her head just enough to look at me like I was a stranger.
“I do, but if that’s the color you want to paint it, then that’s the color it's going to be. We will go down to Home Depot right now and buy it.” To make sure she knows I’m serious, I pick up my purse and turn towards her as though I am ready to jump up at a moment's notice.
“I like orange,” Mia chimes in with a goofy smile. “It reminds me of orange ice cream pops. They were my favorite. I used to eat them all summer long!” Her words are enough to bring a smile to Eva’s face. She lets out a deep breath.
“I want to paint it orange because Daddy always said I wasn’t allowed to like orange because it was for boys.” The breath halts in my lungs, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest. It’s uncomfortable anytime Jonathan is brought up. Mainly because I’m terrified that he will suddenly appear in front of me, like the worst type of boogeyman, it's also because of the pain I see Eva go through every day.
It was painful when we were with him, but we never had to worry over anything. If it was money, time, privilege, we had no issues obtaining what it was we needed. He may not have found her to be the most important thing in his world, but she is the most important thing in mine, and it made my world shake on its very axis when he would brush her aside for something else.
And yet, the kind and beautiful girl that she is, kept forgiving him. Because he was her daddy, and she would forever hold him high up on a pedestal that the man didn’t deserve. He may have treated us like shit, but her view of her big and wonderful daddy wouldn’t change.
What's sad is that it had to take me leaving the man, packing everything we could fit in the trunk and leaving in the middle of the day, for my daughter to find her voice. To decide that she wanted to paint her room orange, that it was okay for her to even like the color.
“Baby girl, you don’t need to let anyone tell you that you can't like something. You are your own person. You get to decide if you like a color or if you don’t. Your daddy isn't around anymore, and that means that you can dress in whatever color you want and paint your room like a rainbow for all I care, okay?”
Instead of responding, she gives me a slight nod, focusing on her lap and her hands as they clench on her thighs. “I miss him.”
“I know you do pumpkin,” I choke through my tightening throat. It's so difficult to keep my mouth shut and not spew all the poisonous crap about Jonathan, but I force the lump of word vomit down into my chest, where I lock it up tight in a vault of pain. Eva is only a child, and she needs to formulate her own thoughts on her father. I don’t want her to grow up resenting me because of something I've said, or the feelings that I've allowed to be transferred to such an impressionable soul.
She’ll grow up and realize what a piece of crap her dad is by herself. I just wish that I could keep her from experiencing the pain that’s going to come along with that.
“-you?” Eva asks, looking up at me with teary eyes.
“What?” I ask, having not heard
her question. Glancing over at Mia, she gives me a sympathetic look but turns towards the waitress when she appears at the tableside with a check in hand. “Sorry, baby, mommy didn’t hear you. What'd you say?”
“Do you miss daddy?”
Well shit. I certainly didn’t expect that question, and maybe I should have. “I like our new home.” I hedge, trying to avoid the question without making her think that I'm unhappy. In all honesty, I don’t miss him one single bit. Not the money, not the house, and certainly not being criticized for every single thing. Even the few weeks in our new home, albeit nowhere near the Ritz, but it's ours. There's not one part of that man in our home, and I couldn’t be happier about that.
“I like our house too,” Eva chirps, picking up her crayon to continue her coloring, effectively ending the daddy talk.
I let out a breath of relief, smiling over at Mia when she turns from the waitress, a receipt in hand.
“Alright! Are we ready to go?” She inquires, looking at me with a raised brow. “Mr. Maccini is waiting for us, after all.” Her tone is enough to tell me that I'm not going to be wiggling my way out of this. Heaving a sigh, I give her a nod and help Eva pick up her crayons before we scoot out of our seats and head for the door. The tightness on Mia’s face is such a clear giveaway as to what's going on in her mind, and as soon as we step onto the sidewalk, I stop her with a gentle tug.
“Mia,” I begin, sure of my words. “Don’t worry. They're not going to fire you. You are too valuable to the company.”
“How did you- “
“I'm your best friend, Mia. Even being gone for years doesn’t stop me from knowing you like the back of my hand.” My words are meant to be encouraging, but when her face falls, I know I said something wrong.
“I just wish you hadn’t left me for so long…”
“I know,” clasping her hand in my own. I wait until she looks at me to give her a soft smile. “But I'm here now, and nothing has changed. You're still my best friend, and I would do anything for you.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not a lesbian then.” Her words aren't all that surprising as we’ve had this argument before, but it doesn’t stop the burst of laughter to explode from my chest. Mia is by far the sexiest and kindest woman I know, and anyone would be lucky to be with her. Unfortunately, girls just don’t do anything for me. And I'm not sure I'd want to risk decades of friendship anyway.
“More like it’s a good thing you're not a man,” giving her my sauciest wink, I take Eva’s hand and steer us toward PRI tower and the impending meeting with a jackass of a CFO.
Chapter 5
Cornered Mouse
“Ah yes, Mrs. Steffanopolus, Ms. Ray. Please come in,” Edward Maccini gestures to a trio of couches on one side of his office, a low table between them stacked to nearly overflowing with paperwork. Unlike the rest of the building, Edward’s office is all about comfort. On one side of the room, there is an enormous mahogany desk, papers, and files strewn across the surface. There are bookshelves lining the rest of the office, filled to the brim with all sorts of books. I can make out a couple of law tomes down to The Count of Monte Cristo on the shelves.
Lowering myself to one of the couches, the cushions nearly swallow me whole, but it’s probably the most comfortable thing I have ever experienced. Mia perches beside me and sends me a weird look when I struggle to sit upright. I seriously didn’t expect the couch to be so cushy.
Edward’s mouth quirks up at my dilemma. Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he lowers himself to the couch opposite us, his knee crossing over to prop his ankle on the other side. The change from his casual button-up from earlier to his formal suit and tie look puts me on edge, and when I sneak a peek at Mia from the corner of my eye, I can see her hands are clenched tightly with anxiety.
“Mr. Maccini,” I clear my throat and cross my ankles, smoothing my skirt down in a calm manner. “I'm not sure why you would want me to be in this meeting at all as I have no business being here. I do not work for you, and I dearly hope that you would not allow our earlier meeting to impact Mrs. Steffanopolus’ position in the company. That would be incredibly unprofessional and quite frankly, ridiculous.”
Rolling his eyes at me, he opens his mouth to respond, but a knock to his office door stops him short. Edward rises to his considerable height, buttoning the front of his suit with a stern look. “Please, call me Edward,” he tells me before making his way over to the office door. A polished loafer is the first thing I see, and it's enough to tell me who is on the other side of the door. A huff of annoyance escapes drawing a glare from Mia, but when she turns back around and sees Daniel Price and Patrick Roswell standing beside Edward, her spine seems to deflate in defeat.
I'm positive that she is thinking for sure that she's fired, but given the smile on Patrick’s face, I know that’s not the case.
“Mrs. Steffanopolus, you can return to your desk,” Patrick tells her, stepping back to gesture to the open doorway and the freedom outside. Mia doesn’t move a muscle, looking between myself and the upper tier of PRI, likely trying to figure out if it’s a good idea if she leaves me alone with them. As though I’m going to murder them or something. Or perhaps she’s worried about three larger men and my smaller stature.
“It’s okay Mia,” I give her an encouraging smile. “Maybe you could save Eva from Ingrid, though? I'll come pick her up before I leave.” Eva wasn’t happy to be left outside, especially with the receptionist glaring at her as though daring her to do something even mildly to inconvenience her.
“You're sure?”
“Yep! I’m sure they just want to discuss their behavior this morning.” I don’t miss the choked laugh that escapes Patrick. Gathering her purse, Mia gives me a wide-eyed look, her version of ‘be good’ before escaping into the hallway.
“How can I help you, gentlemen?” I inquire, letting myself lean back into the couch without being swallowed whole. I will not allow them to make me feel bad about my earlier words, and I certainly won't let them spew any more insults. Edward and Patrick move to the couch to my left while Daniel stays rooted to the floor near the doorway. I level a glare at him and raise my eyebrow when nobody answers.
“Your schooling and experience are impressive, even after years not in the workforce,” Daniel says, breaking the silence. Undoing the button on his jacket, he moves closer until he is standing beside the couch across from me. Rather than sitting, he leans a hip against the arm of the sofa, making the mom in me internally cringe. That’s how chairs and couches get broken.
“And that makes it acceptable for you to insult me?” I question, leaning forward to prop my chin on my clenched fist. “I feel like that’s the exact opposite of what should be said when you want to compliment someone on their resume, let alone hire them to work for you.”
“I didn’t mean to come across as offensive-“ Daniel begins, stopping short when a snicker escapes one of the men on the other couch. I can't tell who it came from because they are both grinning widely. Daniel’s glare is enough to make me wither in my seat, and it's not even aimed at me. They have obviously known each other for a very long time and are very close to each other. You would have to be when the three are running such a successful company together. You certainly wouldn’t be able to do that if you don’t like each other or don’t get along.
“How did you guys meet each other?” I ask, interrupting their stare-off, surprising us all with my question. Sure, I was thinking about it, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to say that. I just thought you all seemed very comfortable with each other.”
“Well, I would hope so after years together,” Edward responds, throwing his arm over Patrick’s shoulders. The whole scenario immediately begins to make sense. They must be together in more ways than just work. I wouldn’t have expected that considering the manly aura, they each seem to exude from their very pores. But what the hell do I know, I’ve never met a gay man before. Maybe that’s normal.
�
��Ms. Ray, the reason I had Mr. Maccini request that you come back today was to apologize for my incredibly rude behavior. I become very weary when I end up sitting through the same interview day in and day out.” Daniel stands up and makes his way around the couch to lower himself into the deep cushions. It's harder than I would expect to not admire the way his suit seems to tighten across his body, especially when he leans back, causing the lithe muscles to stretch beneath the beautiful fabric.
“When I looked over your resume, I had hoped that you wouldn’t follow the same ‘ol business plan spiel. I shouldn’t have spoken to you in such a fashion, and thankfully my partners,” Daniel gestures to the other two men on the couch, making me realize that maybe it's not just Edward and Patrick that happen to be in something more. Wow, I wouldn’t be able to handle even one of these men myself. My brain instantly begins to conjure a strip of images in my mind, my body heating in response. “-please accept my apologies again. I dearly hope that we can put this in the past as I truly do believe that you would be a great asset to the company.”
I must have zoned out through most of his apology, my thoughts absurdly consumed with thoughts of the three men before me. I’m certainly not proud of the images or the way my body seems to respond. I will need to set some serious boundaries for myself if I do decide that I want to work for the company.
Letting Daniel’s words sink in, I try to hide the fact that I didn’t hear his entire speech and look over to the other two men in the office. They both give me encouraging smiles, Patrick offering me a nod of reassurance that it's not just some cruel joke.
“Ok,” taking a deep breath, I offer Daniel my brightest smile. “I would love it if we could start over.”
“Great!” Edward booms jumping up from the couch. He must have forgotten that his arm was still resting on Patrick's shoulders because the movement sends Patrick sprawling on the couch, his glasses sliding dangerously low on his sharp nose. “Sorry, Patrick,” he apologizes and offers a hand to help him upright.