by Amy Brent
“I’m in love with her,” He looked me dead in the eye and delivered the killer blow, the one that made me feel as though he was squeezing my ripped-out heart in his hand. I stared at him. I couldn’t make sense of this.
“We need to end this,” he gestured between the two of us, and my jaw dropped open. No. Surely. No. Somehow that possibility hadn’t crossed my mind despite what he was saying. There had to be some way for us to be together despite all of this.
“What?” I gasped, and looked around that apartment, the one that we’d shared for the last year and a half. We’d met at the start of our freshman year and since then we’d been…well, we’d been that couple, the one that stuck together throughout thick and thin, the one that all my friends would tipsily tell me they one day dreamed of being just like. And now that was it? It was over? Before I could…when I couldn’t even…
It took me a long time to process what had gone down that day, even after he moved all his stuff from the apartment and left me there in the hollow shell of what had been our life together. On the day that he had moved out – and moved in with her at once, I might add, just in case he was worried about my injury going uninsulted – I got the call that I had landed this volunteer position at Helios Industries. It wasn’t much, but it as the tiny glimmer of hope that I’d needed to keep my shit together and hold back from going to pieces the first chance I got. I redecorated the apartment with the last of the rent he’d given me out of guilt before he’d left, trying to turn the place into something a little bit more my own, and had tried to pretend that none of this was happening and that I could actually get through the next month of volunteering without too much trouble. I was lying to myself, it turned out, but then everyone seemed to be doing that recently so what was the big deal?
The first few days on the job had actually been a welcome relief to sitting around my apartment and going to classes all day. I felt as though everyone knew what had happened, that everyone was talking about me. I knew that I was just being paranoid, until I overheard a couple of girls from one of my classes in a coffee shop discussing what had happened, talking about what an asshole he was – even though they were on my side it didn’t do much to assuage the deep unhappiness that had permeated my system by then, my entire body feeling as though it had been filled to the brim and then some. I hurried back to my apartment and bawled in the kitchen for an hour as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened the last few weeks. I hated this. I hated myself for letting it get to me so much. I hated him, but I knew that if I could have gone back to how things were, when I was oblivious, I would have taken all of it back in an instant. And that’s what I hated most of all, that I was a fucking pushover deep in my soul.
So I threw myself at the position when I started it, glad that no-one knew a thing about be or the bullshit that I’d been forcibly dragged through. It was a relief to come to a place where no-one looked at me with this sad sympathy in their eyes, as though they had been there or were worried that one day they might be. And, despite my occasional crying jags in the bathrooms, I was actually doing a pretty good job at holding myself all the way together despite how bullshit I felt about all of this.
I was working in the charity department, helping them set up a couple of events and crunching the numbers for them when they were done – it wasn’t precisely what I’d got my marketing degree to do, but it was a great experience to work with people who were passionate and driven and at the top of their game. It would look killer on my CV.
I reminded myself of that as I got to my feet and wiped the last few drops of my tears away. This was going to boost my career in a way I could never have come close to without it. That was worth it, right? Worth all of it?
I looked at myself in the mirror, at my slightly red-rimmed eyes; I pulled down a few strands of hair from the tight ponytail I had made at the top of my head in the hopes of distracted from the fact that I’d clearly been crying, and washed my hands and touched up my lipstick as best I could. I could do this. I brushed down the skirt-suit I’d picked up a few weeks ago as a reward for getting this position in the first place, nodded, and then headed back to my desk. Freda was waiting there for me. She frowned when I emerged from the bathroom.
“You alright?” She asked gently, and I felt another wave of emotions bubble up inside me. I was on the brink of just breaking down and telling her everything, all about my shitty boyfriend and the cheating and the lying and the fact that the whole of my university seemed to know about it. But instead, I plastered a big smile on my face and looked up at her expectantly.
“Yeah, I’m great,” I replied. “Just some allergies, I think, nothing to worry about. What is it you need me for again?”
“I need you to take these up to the man upstairs,” she lifted her eyes skyward, and I felt my heart skip a beat.
“Mr Richards?”
“Trust me, you should just call him Nate”, she waved a hand. “Anything else makes him feel old.”
“Okay,” I nodded, taking the papers from her and heading to the door.
“Oh, and Nia?”
I looked over my shoulder at her expectantly.
“Yeah?”
“Be careful,” she raised her eyebrows at me and I took a minute to figure out exactly what it is she’s saying to me right now. Maybe the stairs are slippery on the way up or something?
“I will,” I shrugged. “Thanks.”
I headed for the stairs and then to the elevator, the one that would take me right up to the top floor and to the office of Nathan Richards. My heart looped in my chest at the thought. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
I mean, I had imagined it going down – I had thought about meeting someone like him for a long time, the kind of guy who seemed to have everything I’d ever wanted in a dude and display it with such an easy charm that you couldn’t help but kind of fall in love with him. He was successful – obviously, if he was the head of a company like this, one that he’d built from the ground up starting when he had only been around my age – and by all accounts was pretty much the most charming guy you were likely to meet who could actually hold his on in conversations about things beyond just stock prices. So many of them men in this business were just dangerously boring, but Nate…
Not to mention the fact that he was smoking hot. The kind of smoking hot that had even me, in my long-lost post-break-up state, eyeing the pictures that were posted on the company website with a decent amount of thirst in my system. He was slim and lean, chilling in a shirt and jeans in one of the pictures on the site that was clearly intended to make Helios look like an accessible place to work. He had close-cropped dark hair that seemed to shine the colour of deep, dark chocolate in the light, and a sharp, pointed jaw with just a hint of stubble that I knew was there as a style choice and not just because he had forgotten his razor that morning.
I arrived up outside his office and took a deep breath, and realized that I was crushing the papers a little in my hand. I could do this. It was just an errand. Just in and out and I could go back downstairs to work and there would be nothing more to say about any of this. Done and dusted. I lifted my knuckles, but before I could knock, the door opened.
“Oh!” I squeaked, my voice higher than it had ever naturally been in my life before. “Oh. Hi.”
“Hi,” He replied, looking down at me – he was only a few inches from my face, so close that I could see that his eyes were bright blue and so pretty I found myself a little lost in them for a moment. They seemed at odds with the rest of his look, so powerful and masculine, but something about the contrast really worked for me. And for him. I realized I was still just staring up at him and that he was looking down at me with his eyebrows slightly raised, waiting for me to say or do something. I remembered the papers in my hand, holding them up as though they were the password into his office.
“I have these,” I blurted out. “Freda said I should come up and drop them off?”
“Right, okay,�
�� He stepped aside and gestured for me to go in. “Go grab a seat. I’ll be with you in a second.”
I sat down in his office and looked around as he vanished off somewhere – inside, it was exactly how I’d pictured it, sleek and minimal and looking less like a place where he spent most of his day and more like a room streamlined to maximum efficiency. You didn’t get as far as he had in the business world, I guessed, but having a whole lot of pictures of your kids on your desk. I peered around to see if I could spot anything that hinted towards a light side, but there was nothing. Just hard edges and gleaming metal and expensive technology.
He returned and I jumped slightly as he closed the door behind him; he took his seat opposite and reached across the desk to grab the papers straight from my hands. Our skin touched, just for the briefest moment, and I felt this shiver run all the way up my spine, prickling every hair on my body as it went. I blinked. I needed to keep my shit together. This might be the only opportunity I had to have him in a room by myself and I wanted to make a good impression. But my body was drawn to him in a way I had never felt with anyone before – maybe the power, maybe the success, or maybe just the way he looked so damn good in that navy suit that had clearly been cut to his body. Maybe a combination of all of the above.
“You’re the one who came in from college, right?” He remarked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, I’m just here for a few weeks,” I nodded, and found that there as a heat working it’s way up my neck. Seriously? Now? Now was the time I had to start blushing like an asshole?
“Nice,” he nodded, and a furrow appeared in his brow as he began to look over the papers. “Did you crunch the numbers on all of this?”
“Sure did,” I replied proudly. I knew I’d done a good job.
“Great,” he scanned the pages and seemed to come up satisfied, and then slowly raised his gaze to meet mine once more. “How long did you say you were here for, again?”
“Just a month”, I replied, smiling despite myself. “And then I’ve finished up with college altogether.”
“Think you’ll be looking for a job?” He remarked, and I felt my heart spin in my chest. Was he offering me something?
“We don’t have much going at the moment but I can certainly keep you on our records,” he filled in the blanks for me, as though he sensed my excitement and didn’t want me getting out of hand with it.
“Yeah, that would be great,” I nodded. “Thank you.”
I sat there as he went through the rest of the papers, and realized that I was unconsciously rubbing the spot of skin that he’d touched when he’d grabbed the papers from my hand. I looked up, and noticed that he was looking down at my hands with a small smile on his face. I stopped moving them at once. Had he guessed what that was about? I felt the heat grow more intense and hated myself for it. I was acting like a kid with a crush. Which, compared to him, I supposed I kind of was.
“So how are you finding it here?” He asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands, looking at me with this calmness and assuredness that I wished I could project the same way he was.
“Yeah, I like it,” I nodded. “I was just…I didn’t expect to get the opportunity, really. I’m still kind of in shock…”
“Why didn’t you expect to get it?”
“I guess I just assumed that there was someone else who’d be better suited to this than me,” I admitted, not knowing where this was coming from but glad I had it out. Why was I telling this to the head of the company? I should be exuding confidence at every chance I got, not sitting there like a nervous little kid.
“You should be more confident in yourself,” he gestured down to the papers. “These are spot-on. And you’ve only been here…?”
“A week,” I replied. He raised his eyebrows.
“That long?” He remarked, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I thought I might have noticed you by now.”
I stared at him for a moment, and noted that he was clean-shaven this time, different from the pictures. I felt the sudden urge to reach out and run my fingers along his jawline, to feel if he was a little rough there. I looked down at my hands again. I was only here for a month, and it wasn’t like I had a future job on the line or anything. What was wrong with a little flirting straight back in his direction?
“Yeah, surprised you didn’t,” I looked back up at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly and broadened his smile, and I could tell he liked it when I talked back to him. He got to his feet, turning to look out the enormous window that looked down over the city. The tension is the air between us was crackling, so thick I could have cut through it.
“You could come by my place later if you like,” he remarked casually, as though it was nothing. I bristled slightly in my seat. Was he actually serious right now? I bit my lip and looked up at him, considering my options. It wouldn’t be the most professional thing in the world, but then, I was just off a hard-as-hell break-up and I could have used someone to work out some of my remaining tension on. Fuck it – he was hot, rich, successful, and flirting with me. Why not have a little fun for a change?
“Just to discuss these papers, I guess,” I replied, and he turned to me, noting the playful expression on my face. He shrugged.
“Of course,” he took his seat opposite me. “Strictly professional.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
His eyes flicked down to my lips for a moment.
“Shall we say seven?”
“Seven it it,” I got to my feet. “Where is it you stay?”
“I’ll get someone to pass the address on to you,” he replied, seeming a little surprised by how quickly I acquiesced to this. But then he must have been used to women taking this kind of route with him. He was…he was the whole package, after all. Who wouldn’t have said yes given the chance?
“I’ll see you later,” I flashed him a smile, still not quite able to believe that I was doing this. I got to my feet, and for a moment I was tempted to lean over the desk, to touch him, to inhale the scent of him one last time. But I knew I had to play it safe while we were at work.
“See you soon,” he replied, and I turned around and made extra-sure to swing my hips as I headed back down to the department downstairs. As soon as I was outside and the door was shut, I couldn’t help but shake my head to myself. I had never acted such a vixen in my life, never been drawn to someone the way I was to him – and suddenly, it struck me that that might have been what Freda was warning me about earlier.
Chapter Two
Okay. Okay. I could do this.
I stood outside his beautiful apartment building, and wondered once more what the hell I was doing here. This wasn’t me – I’d hardly had the chance to have fun, casual sex before, dating one guy through high school and then one more through college. I had had sex plenty of times before, but I’d never really craved it the way I was craving it at that moment. I had spent the evening getting myself ready and looking at pictures of him online, tracing the outline of his body with my eyes the way he had done to me earlier in the day. Was I really doing this? Was it a good idea?
I took a deep breath, inhaling a lungful of the cool evening air, and checked my watch again. I was there in plenty of time, never having been even remotely close to late in my life, and now that I was here the butterflies in my stomach were getting so intense I needed a minute to calm them down. But, despite my nerves, I was so excited to get up there and see what came of the rest of tonight. I just… there was something about it. I knew this was inappropriate, that I’d have scolded a girlfriend for doing what I was right now, but I needed to play things a little reckless for a change. With Matt, I had been so careful, trying to keep everything in line and not do one little thing that might land me in even the slightest hint of trouble, and that had blown right up in my face despite my best efforts. So why not see what came of being a little deviant once in a while? I felt seductive and reckless and hot as hell, dressed in a short black dress that I had picked up
for mine and Matt’s would-be anniversary. Now, all I wanted was for Nathan to rip it off of me.
I giggled to myself at the thought, and then figured that I was starting to look a little suspicious hanging out outside this apartment for so long. Taking a deep breath, I headed in, and pressed the buzzer to Nathan’s apartment. A few moments later, the intercom crackled to life.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Nia,” I greeted him, and realized all at once that I hadn’t told him my name before now. Maybe I should have played it more anonymous. The thought bubbled something to life in my stomach, the thought of hooking up with this guy without so much as giving him a name exciting a part of me I had never noticed before.
“Come on up,” he replied, that easy drawl fluttering around and around in my head. I grinned and danced from foot to foot as I waited for the elevator to get there and then climbed inside. I was so ready for this.
The elevator opened, to my surprise, straight on to his apartment, and my jaw dropped as I looked around the place. Imagine that office of his, except twice as expensive and spread out over a sprawling, gorgeous space lit with giant picture windows that looked down on to the city. A few sculptures were scattered here and there, giving the place some character, but he was nowhere to be found.