The Ace and The Assistant

by Kate, Jiffy

  Charlotte insisted I shift gears and go for an escape read, so contemporary romance it is.

  And even though it is getting my mind off worrying about the baby and whether or not I’m going to have another panic attack, it isn’t doing anything for my heart. In fact, I miss Ross more and more with every page.

  “Useless,” I say, tossing the blanket off. “I feel like I should be up doing something.”

  Charlotte shakes her head. “Nope, doctor’s orders.”

  I think she’s letting her role of caretaker go to her head. Typically, this is reversed and I’m the one forcing her to take care of herself. I like that better. I’m not used to letting other people take care of me or my business.

  “Ross stopped by.”

  My head snaps up. “What? When?”

  She looks down at the floor and toes the thick carpet. “Just a few minutes ago. He wanted to see you, but said something about it being easier this way…so he dropped off more Thin Mints and this.”

  Walking over, she hands me a letter.

  Seeing Ross’s handwriting makes my heart clench. A letter is so old school, so Ross, and it makes me miss him even more. Holding it up to my nose, I inhale, catching a hint of his manly scent—earthy and woodsy. It reminds me of the t-shirt I’ve been sleeping in that I stole from his room when I left four days ago.

  “They’re leaving for the airport later today,” Charlotte says quietly. “He said he’ll see you when he gets back.”

  I nod, feeling tears prick at my eyes.

  “Thank you,” I tell her as she turns to walk out, closing the door behind her.

  I want to wallow in my sadness, in how much I miss Ross and wish he was with me right now, but it was my choice to remove myself from what felt like an out-of-control, stressful situation.

  When I passed out from a panic attack earlier this week and Charlotte drove me to the hospital, it was a wake-up call. I was scared… not for me, but for my baby. Then the doctor said my blood pressure was high and that it could lead to preeclampsia, which I know from all the books I’ve read is bad. It could mean premature labor, but so could panic and anxiety.

  So, until I feel in control of my emotions and have a better grip on my life, I need this time away.

  Also, Charlotte and I have talked quite a bit about the media coverage and she feels like things will die down in a week or two. Once it’s no longer news, they’ll find something else to talk about.

  Ross made a statement, which was very direct and seemed to clear up misconceptions about me and our relationship, or tried to. Even if they didn’t help with the media, it helped me realize how serious he’s taking this and it did my heart good. I know from experience the gossip blogs can still spin things any way they want, so I’m not delusional in thinking this will all just go away.

  I’m just trying to take this time to rest and really think about what I want. In just a few short months, I’ll have a small life depending on me. He’ll depend on Ross too, but what I need to figure out between now and then is what our family will look like. Will it be two parents who support each other and love him unconditionally? Or will it be two parents who love each other and him unconditionally?

  I know what I want, but I need to talk to Ross.

  Opening the small envelope, I pull out the note and unfold it.

  Casey,

  I want you to know that just because we’re not physically together doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you every second of every day. But your health and safety, and the health and safety of our son, is my biggest priority, so I’m giving you the time and space you need.

  There are so many things I want and need to say to you, but I’ll be patient.

  I hope you’re resting and doing everything the doctor told you to do. If you need anything, I’m just a phone call away. Even if you’re up in the middle of the night eating Oreo ice cream and don’t want to eat it alone, call me. If you’re feeling anxious, call me. If you just want to say hello…I’m here for that too.

  You’re fully stocked with Thin Mints.

  At your service,

  Ross

  There’re no declarations of love or feelings, but I didn’t expect that. His sign off, however, makes me smile and takes me back to our emails. On one hand, it feels like forever ago that we were navigating our new working relationship, but on the other, it feels like everything has happened so fast.

  Bringing the note back up to my nose, I inhale again and close my eyes, picturing Ross at his house and wishing, not for the first time, I was there with him. I could be… I could go to him, but I want to make sure this isn’t a fantasy and that Ross and I can exist outside of the bubble we’d created.

  When my phone rings, I have to dig through the piles of blankets on the bed until I finally find it.

  Pulling it out, I feel my heart deflate when it’s not Ross’s name on the screen.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say, trying not to sound too disappointed.

  She huffs out a laugh. “Well, hello to you too.”

  “Sorry,” I tell her, holding Ross’s letter back up and reading it again.

  “How are you feeling?” she asks. “Are you doing everything the doctor told you?”

  She and my dad have come around a little in the past few days. According to Charlotte, they were both really freaked out after the whole panic attack and my mom felt guilty, like she’d caused it. Sure, she was part of it, but it wasn’t her fault. Now that I look back on it, I realize it was a lot of things that combined into the perfect storm—Ross’s distant behavior, Felicia playing on my fears, a little exhaustion, and then my mom dropped the gossip bomb on me and everything detonated.

  “Charlotte hasn’t let me out of bed for more than bathroom trips and mandatory showers for the past three days.”

  “Good,” she says, letting out a deep sigh. “Your father and I were thinking about flying out there.”

  Shaking my head, I’m thankful this isn’t a FaceTime call because there’s no way I could hide my expression. “That’s really not necessary,” I tell her, trying to keep my tone light and happy. “I know you and Dad are busy and there really isn’t anything you’d be able to do.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Even when Charlotte and I were younger, our mother wasn’t the most nurturing person, so the fact she wants to come out here and check on me is touching. But honestly, it feels like more than I can handle right now. I’d really like a chance to figure things out on my own without their intervention.

  “I’m sure,” I tell her, hoping I’m convincing enough. “Charlotte mentioned you were thinking about coming out here for the holidays… that would be nice.”

  I’ll give birth to this baby by the holidays.

  That thought equally delights me and terrifies me, but it’s happening regardless.

  “It will be nice,” she says and I wonder if she’s also thinking about the fact there will be a baby by then and she’ll be a grandmother, like it or not.

  After we say our goodbyes and I end the call, I pull up Ross’s number and hover over it for a minute. I think about texting him, even though he hates it, but decide an email would be better.

  Subject: Thank you for your service

  Ross,

  It’s like you have a sixth sense and knew I was running low on fuel, aka Thin Mints. I don’t know how you continue to keep me in supply, but I couldn’t be more grateful.

  I know this has been a long week for you and I’m sorry if it’s caused you undue stress, that was never my intent. Actually, that’s what I was trying to avoid for both of us. But let’s face it, this is a stressful situation… but I’m hoping in a few more days, some of the craziness will quiet down and we can have a chance to talk.

  In the meantime, I am resting and feeling much better.

  Peanut is good. I can feel him move and that helps me feel calmer, knowing he’s still growing and thriving. That’s crazy, being able to call him a he without thinking he could also be a she. L
OL.

  Hope the Revelers have a great road trip. I know you’ll be pitching again tomorrow night, so good luck out there.

  I pause, thinking for a minute about how I want to end the email. Something inside me tells me to take a chance… go out on a limb and put myself out there. I think Ross needs it. I think he needs to know I can meet him halfway and he’s not the only one who’s scared of being hurt or left. I feel that too. It’s scary and uncertain, but I’d rather go through this with him than anyone else in the entire world.

  Placing my hands back on the keyboard, I go with the only thing that feels right.

  Yours,

  Casey

  Chapter 29

  Ross

  Leaving Charlotte’s house without seeing Casey was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a while.

  I know it’s what Casey wants and needs right now, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. Of course, I’m on board with whatever keeps her and the baby safe, but I feel like the other half of my heart is missing and it fucking hurts.

  It’s obvious to me now how my feelings for Casey have only grown over the last few months, so being away from her… not being able to see her and touch her… is harder than I thought it’d be. Not to mention missing out on the small moments with the baby, talking to it, and feeling her round belly… it’s my only connection to him and I fucking miss it.

  I want my family together—Casey and this baby, they’re my family.

  Without them, I now feel like something is missing.

  At least I was able to leave her some of those Thin Mints she loves so much. She’s one of the most selfless people I’ve ever known and if all it takes are those cookies to keep her happy, then I’ll place a lifetime order right the hell now.

  Stopping at a red light, I quickly glance at my phone to make sure I haven’t received any new messages from Felicia. Thankfully, there are none, so I continue driving, ready to get this over and done with.

  Yesterday, she texted me yet again, asking if we can meet somewhere and talk. I debated all night on the best way to respond because I want this to be the last time I talk to Felicia. She was fine on her own until she saw Casey was a bigger part of my life and now, her harassment has gone too far. This shit ends now.

  Not wanting to seem eager, I waited until this morning to reply and told her to meet me in Jackson Square at noon. Meeting her in public is risky, I know, but I’ll be damned if I let her in my house ever again. At least with us meeting there, we should blend in and be able to find a semi-private bench.

  I’m just hoping there won’t be too many people around and she doesn’t cause a scene.

  She does love an audience.

  After I find a parking spot and pay, I quickly cross Decatur Street and head for St. Peter. There are plenty of tourists milling around, as usual, so I pull the brim of my cap—an Atlanta Braves one this time—down low and make my way inside the gated area. Walking along the paved path, I see a bench sitting under one of the large trees on the perimeter of the square unoccupied, so I claim it and wait.

  Thankfully, Felicia is right on time and spots me without much effort.

  Her bright smile seems so authentic that it catches me off guard. I honestly have no idea why she’s so happy to see me.

  She’s the one who left.

  She’s the one who wanted a divorce.

  So, why does she want to talk to me at all?

  That’s just one of the many questions I have for her today.

  “Hey, Ross!” She walks up to where I’m sitting, like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

  I can tell she expects me to stand and hug her or greet her in some kind of warm way, but I don’t budge. It goes against every bit of manners that have been so deeply ingrained in me, but I remain in my seat.

  This isn’t a social call for me; this is me taking care of business.

  “Have a seat,” I tell her, motioning to the open spot next to me and sit up straight, making sure to put as much distance between us as possible.

  “Someone’s a Grumpy Gus today,” she says with a giggle as she sits. “You must be tired from your trip back home.”

  It’s weird to hear her speak as though she still knows me, knows my work schedule and my typical behaviors. The way I see it, I’m practically speaking with a stranger. I know nothing about the woman next to me and I don’t plan on changing that.

  “I think we both know there are some things we need to discuss, so let’s not waste our time with small talk and get down to it,” I begin, wanting to set the tone for this meet-up.

  She laughs again, shaking her head like I just told the funniest joke. “What has gotten into you?” Leaning forward she pinches my cheek and I pull away from her, pressing my back into the bench. “What happened to my fun-loving guy?”

  “First, I’m not your anything,” I deadpan, leveling her with my stare. “And second, I’m not feeling very fun-loving, especially after the way you spoke to Casey the other day. That’s unacceptable. You had no right being at my house, you gave that up in the divorce. If I remember correctly, it didn’t bring you any happiness…and I believe that’s a direct quote.”

  She was very adamant in the divorce that she didn’t want anything from our life together, except cold hard cash, which she got her fair share of.

  I watch her eyes as she registers my mood, probably realizing for the first time that I can’t be manipulated by her anymore and this isn’t a conversation she can dominate. This new Ross is over her and he’s done playing games.

  “The accusations you made toward her were ridiculous and completely out of line,” I continue, wanting to say so much more, but trying to keep my cool and make it through this without drawing attention. “That’s the last time you talk to her. I don’t want you stepping foot on my property again and I never want you talking to her again, period.”

  She has the audacity to look shocked that I called her out. Or maybe it’s because I’m taking Casey’s side over hers? Regardless, I’ve managed to shake her up, which is surprising.

  “Ross,” she starts, her mouth agape. “It’s obvious she’s just trying to trap you. And even though we’re divorced, I still care about you and I’m just looking out for your best interests.”

  When her face falls like she’s going to get emotional, it takes all my power not to roll my eyes.

  “Why should you care, Felicia?” I want to stand and pace, needing an outlet for the pent-up anger and frustration I’m feeling, but I force myself to stay seated. “You’re not a part of my life anymore, so you have zero say in how I spend my time and who I spend it with. That’s what divorce means.”

  “I made a mistake.”

  “Yeah, you did and I don’t want it to happen again, so leave Casey alone.”

  “No, I mean, about us.”

  Her words shut me up and I try to school my reaction, but fail. The incredulity has to be written all over my face because Felicia’s nostrils flare and she huffs out her own frustration.

  When all I do is stare at her, dumbfounded, she continues.

  “I was wrong… I thought I was doing the right thing. I felt trapped and stifled and I thought a new life would make me happy, but I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve stayed and worked things out. I should’ve given you… us… another chance.”

  Felicia grabs my hand with both of hers and has tears in her eyes when she says, “I miss you, Ross. Please give us another chance. Because I still love you and I think deep down, you still love me too… I mean, we were together for ten years. You can’t just turn those feelings off.”

  Yanking my hand from hers, I stand. “Yes, I can,” I grit out, pulling at my hair in an effort to ease the tension rolling through my body. “When the person you love walks out on you and claims you can’t make them happy any more, you find a way to turn off those feelings… We’re done. I’m done. It killed me when you left, but I figured out how to survive without you… I’ve moved on and there’s no turning ba
ck.”

  “But I’m ready now,” she says, a little too loudly with desperation dripping from her words.

  “Ready for what?”

  “Ready to try for a baby,” she says, with full-blown tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s what you wanted, right? I thought I couldn’t do it and that I didn’t want that kind of life, but I know now that I do and I’m willing to give it a try… to give you what you want.”

  She stands, her hands clasped at her chest as she begins to plead. “Please, Ross… I know this was what drove us apart… and you do too. Without that in our way, we can be together… you can’t tell me you’re not tempted.”

  “I’m not tempted,” I reply, faster than my brain can process. “Not in the slightest. I’ve found someone who loves me for me and we’re starting a family together. That’s what I’ve always wanted… Casey is who I want.”

  Just mentioning her name makes my chest tighten.

  I wish she was here right now instead of Felicia.

  I wish I was telling her this—I want you… you’re it for me.

  “You don’t really mean that,” Felicia practically shrieks. Her tears dry as anger takes their place. “I know you Ross Davies… I know what you need. I know how to make you happy.”

  Her words are coming faster and louder and she encroaches on my personal space and I back away from her.

  With a finger pointed at my chest, she continues. “You’ve had your fun with the little trollop. Point made. If you were trying to make me jealous, it worked and I forgive you. So, let’s put our errors behind us and move forward.”

  Dropping her hand, she closes in on me faster than I can deflect. Her arms wrap around my neck and she tries to pull me closer, like she’s going to kiss me.

  The next few seconds happen in slow motion and almost simultaneously.

  As I’m attempting to extract myself from her embrace, I see her eyes cut to the side. Following her gaze, everything becomes so clear.

  Only a few feet away, stepping out from behind another tree, is a photographer with his camera poised directly at us, ready to capture the moment.