by Abi Walters
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Anne, but I did the best I could.”
She glanced at the clock on her screen and waved Mia to the door, “Be grateful for your coworkers.”
Mia quietly exited the office and held her head as she crossed to her own space at the other end of the floor. She resisted the urge to throw her middle finger up at every passing person and scowled at her secretary before the girl could even open her mouth. Mia didn’t even turn the light on in the room. She just sat down and rested her head on her desk.
She wished Anne would have yelled at her. Mia could handle yelling and screaming. She couldn’t handle disappointment. Anne was a mentor. How was Mia to know she was gearing up to take the woman’s job? Letting out a snort, Mia pressed her face further into the desk. She would never take Anne’s job now. Hell, when her contract ended in May, she’d probably be out of a job.
She had spent days angry with Tyler, Max, and the rest of Burnside, but in the end, she had just gone against everything she preached to them. She had crossed the line, indulging in something she knew would be messy. But she was selfish, and now she was in over her head. She was in love with Benson, and it had cost her the respect of her boss and peers, and possibly her job.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Mia chastised herself, desperately wanting to bash her head into the solid wood of her desk. She and Benson should have stayed in Mexico. She knew the second they landed in New York everything would change.
Mia grabbed her purse and found her phone. Instinctually, she went to text Benson, but she couldn’t talk to him about any of her conflicting emotions without possibly damaging what they had. She texted Lora instead.
I know we agreed on dinner, but I can’t wait that long. I need to talk ASAP. Can you do lunch?
Shit. Is everything okay? I have a seminar at 2:45. Lunch is manageable.
Shoga Sushi by my office at noon.
Mia tilted her head back and groaned before rising to flick the light on. She opened up the iTunes program on her computer and shuffled her angsty playlist, only to shift it to her heartbreak one a few songs later. She wasn’t heartbroken. Benson made her feel happy and loved, but Anne’s words tore through her like a hot knife.
Was Benson worth it? Of course. No, Mia. Career, remember? She scolded the voice in her head. The voice of the fresh faced PR agent with a scarred heart. After Grant, she had vowed never to let any man taken precedence over her career. She had set up the parameter of never mixing business with pleasure to shield herself from the damage that came with her past relationship. She had been content with her purely sexual swings and self-pleasure.
What made Benson any different? Why had she broken every rule she created for him?
You love him. He is your dream man.
The voice wasn’t from her twenty four year old self. It was her current voice. Benson was more stubborn and a hell of a lot more rich than her dream man. She had thought up her perfect mate when she was twelve as a safe spot to go when her step-father sank into her bed at night. Back then, she just wanted someone to love her unconditionally. Each night he came to her bed she would picture the movie star handsome man in different scenarios. Coming home to her after work and watching the news together. Having a picnic in the park. Dancing under the stars to no music. Those thoughts were what got her through stolen innocence.
When she got into her teen years and began running away, dream man would sweep her off her feet and whisk her away to safety. Sometimes he would be a firefighter. Sometimes a spy. Sometimes a gas station employee. She didn’t care if he was unemployed or the president, she just wanted the safety he provided.
On the streets her list grew from unconditional love and safety to include things like charming and funny. He wouldn’t want a dog or make her stop listening to Rob Zombie when she missed her dad (which, back those days was every second of every day). He would rub her feet at night and make her feel like a queen. Mia wanted a love like her parents, though as the years went by the love her parents held was covered up with memories of abuse and trauma.
She felt completely stupid for planning a future with a man she had only met three weeks prior. She felt even stupider for loving him, but he made her feel whole when she was so used to being broken and that made her decision a hell of a lot harder.
Lunch couldn’t come any quicker. She did her best not to bolt out of the office, deciding it wouldn’t look good to be sprinting to leave when she had just gotten back.
Lora wasn’t at Shoga when she arrived, so Mia snagged their table and ordered two diet colas desperately wishing she could cradle a bottle of wine instead. Perhaps copious amounts of alcohol would clear her head. A few minutes after Mia sat down Lora arrived and their waitress took their order. As soon as the petite brunette nodded and walked away, Mia dove right into her story.
Her friend had wanted to meet for dinner to hear about her trip, but the lunch date was set so Mia could spill her guts on the glossy table that separated them. She told her about Anne and the hours of internal debate that followed their discussion, briefly skimming over how perfect her time with Benson was over their weekend and their declaration of love. Even after their tiny plates of sushi arrived, Mia babbled on. She feared that once she stopped she would burst into tears.
And she did.
Luckily they were nearly done with their meal. Lora waved the waitress down and paid for both meals without hesitation, then pulled Mia onto the cluttered street. She directed them to the fountain across the street and parked Mia on the stone ledge. Her tears came and went, but Lora held her scowling at any passerby who dared glance in their direction.
Mia wasn’t even sure what she was crying about anymore. The impending loss of her job or the thought of losing Benson.
As if reading her mind, Lora pulled her back and stared at her best friend with a pained expression, “Mia… I know how important control is to you. I know you need to have that stability so you don’t feel lost. But don’t you think the loss of Benson would hurt more? I have never seen you happier than these past few weeks. You want to throw all of that away so in fifteen years you have a bigger office and get to handle the press when an up and coming rock star overdoses and takes a pretty young girl with him? I don’t want to see you miserable. Anne didn’t fire you, and in May I’m sure they’ll renew your contract. She said herself you’re a great worker. Don’t throw away what you have with Benson because you’re afraid of the future.”
“You really think I’ll have a bigger office in fifteen years?” Mia sniffled, drying her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan.
Lora’s eyes turned to slits, “That’s not what I wanted you to take from that speech.”
“I’m sorry. I just feel like I am cracking at the seams, Lora. I have fought to be where I am. I have endured beatings and abuse and hatred. I didn’t sleep so I could close gigs. I did my homework on bar tops between rushes. I can’t throw my entire adult life away for a person I have only known a few weeks. I just… I just wonder if it’s better to end things now so in a year when he leaves I will at least have my dignity and career.”
“If I didn’t think you would drown me in the fountain I would punch you in the face,” Lora crossed her arms and shook her head. “I wish you could hear how you sound, Mia. And I wish I could sit here and talk sense into you, but you’re going to be late if we stay any longer and I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
They gathered themselves and started walking down the block to Monarch Records. Lora dropped her off at the door, hugging her as she said, “Please don’t make any rash decisions.”
Mia didn’t. She stalked into her office just as tortured as she left, if not more. But instead of wallowing in her misery and slamming her head on the desk she grabbed a stack of neglected papers and opened up her email. If she was going to gain Anne’s trust and appreciation back, she was going to have to work for it.
Working harder than she did when she first started at the company, she zipped through ever
y account on the artists she represented. When five o’clock came, Mia almost missed it. She sighed heavily and pulled out her phone.
Working late. Not sure when I will head home.
Call Victor when you are ready to leave. I’m staying over a little, as well. I love you, precious. I hope everything with Anne went over well. I can’t wait to hold you tonight. I miss you.
Mia bit back her tears and closed her phone, briefly staring at her lock screen photo of her and Benson on the deck of the villa, the lush greenery of the jungle behind them. She shook her head and went back to work. At eight, she felt caught up enough to go home. She could comb through a few more articles in her pajamas. But she didn’t call Victor when she took her solo elevator ride down.
She took the subway to her apartment. It felt like a foreign routine. Her apartment was cold and echoed, and loneliness rippled over her. Mia dropped her things, not caring if they landed in the right spot. She kicked her heels as far away from her as possible, and when they hit her glass dining room table, she wished it would have shattered it. Instead it ricocheted with a sharp impact.
Her closet and drawers were almost empty. She changed into an old pair of pink pajama bottoms with martinis on them and dug out a tank top, purple with a bleach stain on the stomach. Mia let out a sad laugh as she padded into her kitchen and ransacked her small liquor cabinet. Her outfit reflected how she felt. In need of a drink, thrown together, and stained.
She dug to the back of the cabinet and pulled out a mason jar. She had drank a lot of things over her lifetime, but moonshine was something she had never indulged in. The jar held home brewed moonshine straight from Kentucky. One of the more contemporary country artists that had been signed to Monarch had gifted it to her after she cleared up the mess that surrounded the bust on his property where police found distillery equipment.
It was his. But the police didn’t need to know that. The artist had a lot of land and was barely in the state. He hadn’t been found brewing the moonshine or with the equipment, so Mia helped convince the law by letting them know he was in New York or on tour eleven out of twelve months a year and someone had probably snuck onto his property to set up shop. Her words and suggestion had gotten the artist from under the thumb of local police and earned her a jar of apple pie shine.
She sat on her counter stool and unscrewed the lid. Cautiously, she sipped the intimidating liquid from the jar. It burned. The fire in her throat spread to her belly and Mia blinked rapidly, her mouth puckering as she drew back from the jar. It was a kick that would make her head hurt in the morning, but it was just what she needed to get through the night.
The loud pounding on her door came sooner than she expected. She had sat and taken tiny sips of the moonshine as she waited for Benson’s arrival. She hadn’t texted him, and that’s how she knew he would show up. From the sound of his voice yelling her name on the other side, she knew he was angry. Angry she could deal with.
She opened the door and prepared for the fight, but what was on the other side was a man who was more than angry. His eyes were so dark they appeared black, a sure sign of the irritation and anger he was feeling, but his face also held relief and the slightest twitch of hurt. Mia knew what was about to come would be more than anger, and she definitely couldn’t handle it.
He stormed in and paced in tight circles as he struggled to find his words. Finally, he stopped and looked directly at her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, then pointed at her and snapped,
“What the fuck are you doing?”
She winced and stared at him for a heated moment before walking over to her island and taking a healthy swallow of the moonshine. She was going to need a little more of it before she could talk to him. Benson followed and snatched the jar from her hand. Sniffing it, he recoiled and put it down so quickly it spilled over the edges.
“I don’t even want to know what the hell that is,” He seethed. “I can’t believe you, right now, Mia. And if you think by sitting there not saying anything you’re going to force me to leave, then you’re going to be disappointed.”
“I’m going to lose my job,” Her voice was weak and not her own. “I’m going to lose my job because of you.”
His face fell and he rushed to her side. He was torn between white hot anger for her boss and complete heartache for the woman in front of him. “Anne said that?”
Mia shook her head, “No, but I will. I’m going to lose everything.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“I love you,” She announced as she stood and walked back to the center of her living room. “I love you more than I thought possible, but I can’t lose everything I have worked so hard for.”
“You’re not doing this,” His words were a low warning, but inside his stomach was flipping with fear. He stalked to her side and cupped her face. “Mia Elizabeth Barnes, you need to stop talking right now.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Mia’s voice cracked as the tears in her eyes spilled. “I just need to clear my head.”
“Mia,” He paused and took a shallow breath, a hand running through his hair, “I thought something happened to you. You never called, and when I went by your office looking for you, the cleaning lady said you left. I was so worried I almost got sick.”
Oh, God. The look on his face made Mia sob harder, but when he went to pull her into a hug, she wiggled away. She didn’t want to look at him any longer, but she couldn’t help but gaze at the man falling apart in front of her. He was still and quiet. When she met his eyes, she wished she hadn’t. Silent tears slid down his face.
“I don’t want to be my mom, Benson. I can’t leave my future in someone else’s hands. I need my career for my own mental health. I can’t let myself end up like her.”
“You think I would ever hurt you?” He questioned with a quiver in his voice. “You damn well know I would give up everything for you. I would do anything for you. I nearly bought you a private island and sold everything I owned. Or do you not remember? How you said you didn’t want to leave? You were willing to give up your career yesterday, Mia. I don’t know what changed.”
“We can’t live in paradise forever.”
“We can, too,” His voice was hard and any traces of his tears were gone. “I don’t need an island to have paradise. All I need is you.”
Her head was spinning so hard she had to lean against the back of a chair for support.
“Please,” She begged. “I just need…”
His hand jerked her face towards him and she jumped. His touch softened and he cupped her face. She stilled as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then nose, and finally her lips. While short and chaste, the kiss was passionate enough to make more tears spring from the corners of her eyes. He loved her, and she was breaking him apart.
“If you need space, I will give you space,” He whispered softly, words etched with heartache. “I will give you days, weeks, months. Whatever you need to realize that I love you, and I will offer you nothing but unconditional love for the rest of your life. I’m going to marry you, Mia. Someday, I’m going to marry you.”
He let go of her face and silently walked out of her apartment. He couldn’t bear to look at her again. If he did, he would burst. He leaned against the outside of the cool door to catch his balance, only to hear her guttural sobs on the other side. Shakily, he tore himself away hoping the space she needed between them wouldn’t kill him.
Chapter Fifteen
A suitcase arrived the next day with Mia’s clothing. Benson had kept a few of her tee shirts and exchanged them for his own. That night without him, she cried herself to sleep surrounded by clothes that smelled like him. They were a poor substitute.
Over the weekend, she didn’t trust herself to be alone. His face was still the background on her phone and laptop. She smelled him throughout her empty apartment. At night, she could feel his lingering touches. She couldn’t sit in silence because she would find herself dialing his number.
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br /> She spent all weekend at Lora’s apartment. They didn’t change out of their pajamas. It felt good to have a sleepover with her best friend. Other than during the holidays at her parents’ house when they would share her full size bed and giggle like teenagers as they fell asleep, they rarely spent the night together crying over Lifetime movies and binge eating takeout.
The work week brought more sadness. Mia threw herself into cases, working herself hard. Burnside was back in the studio recording, and she found herself visiting them often. Her friends were recovering from their tragedy and were working for their dream. Why couldn’t she? The reality of losing Benson had settled. He was gone, and the heavy ache in her chest was only growing larger with every day.
The last weeks of October were painfully slow. Mia was thankful she had her work to keep her warm, but when Anne popped her head in Mia’s office one day and gave her a nod and a genuine “You’ve been working hard the past few weeks. Good job.” she didn’t even feel the slightest ting of approval or happiness. In fact, her stomach churned even more. She had given up everything to hear Anne say those words, and they left her empty.
The Friday before Halloween, Mia sat crossed legged on Lora’s floor shaking her head in protest.
“I will drag you there in your pajamas if I have to,” Lora warned, wagging a finger. “You’re going to the ball. It’s part of your job.”
“It is not,” Mia huffed. “I don’t want to go. End of story.”
“It’ll be fun, Mia,” Zach offered.
Lora gazed at her boyfriend and smiled, then turned back to Mia, “Yeah. You have been working too hard the past couple of weeks. Put on a mask, have a few drinks, and just stop worrying about everything so much.”