Unexpectedly Yours

by Shea, Rebecca

  He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Promise, baby.” I love when he calls me this, and hearing anyone else called baby would normally make me gag, but from Drew, I love it.

  * * *

  “Why are you walking funny, Grace?” Aaron asks, laughing as we weave through the crowded sidewalk. I swear this man is like a fourteen-year-old boy.

  “I’m not.” I smack his arm hard as we walk down Twenty-third Street.

  He flinches in mock pain but glances at me out of the corner of his eye with a coy grin.

  “Leave her alone,” Drew admonishes him tiredly, like an old dad.

  Aaron laughs, knowing damn well why Drew wanted two hours with me before we left.

  “You could have just said you needed some alone time,” he points out, raising his fingers into air quotes.

  Drew narrows his eyes at his brother. “Do you want to see New York City, or would you like a beat down right here on the corner?” But it’s hard for Aaron to take him seriously when Drew’s tone is light and joking and both men start laughing, elbowing and nudging each other like brothers do.

  “While a beat down sounds fun, I prefer when that happens in the bedroom, in the form of sex, and from a woman, not my brother,” Aaron lambasts and Drew shakes his head. “Plus, I’m still recovering from the last one.” He points to his eye. The purple has faded, and you’d never even know he had a black eye unless he pointed it out.

  “We should’ve taken the car.” Drew sighs, holding my hand as we cross the street.

  “Nonsense! Real New Yorkers walk.” I loop my arm through his and lean into him. The weather is turning cooler. Fall is definitely upon us. We still have some warm days, but the cooler, rainy weather tells me those won’t be around for much longer.

  “Where are we going?” Aaron scans all the buildings as we pass them.

  “Ever heard of Serendipity?” Drew asks.

  Both Aaron and I look at him.

  “Like the movie?” I ask.

  Drew nods.

  “Never heard of it,” Aaron says. “But if Gracie has, you know it’s some chick flick.”

  I elbow him in the ribs, and he busts out laughing again. I love that we’re all in a good mood and enjoying each other’s company. “We’re really going there?” I ask, almost hopping with excitement. I’ve always wanted to go there, but I never found it reasonable to splurge on something like this for myself.

  “Really,” Drew answers. I pull my arm from his and clap my hands like an excited little girl, and Drew frowns at me. “I’m surprised you haven’t been there yet.”

  I bite my lip, once again feeling the divide between us. Me the poor girl and Drew the wealthy CEO. “I haven’t been to many places in Manhattan. I spend most of my time in Brooklyn,” I remind him.

  “Well then, this will be an experience for all of us.” He pulls my arm back into his and we continue our stroll. It takes us an hour to get to the Upper East Side since we walked, but we got to show Aaron all the New York City sights along the way. We walk past Rockefeller Center, the Empire State Building, and so many other points of interest I’d been hoping to see. I’ve been to Times Square a million times. Aaron was fascinated by it in the daytime, but it’s truly spectacular at night. He also pointed out every Broadway show he wanted to see, which surprised me. He doesn’t seem like the Broadway kind of guy…not that I would know. I can’t afford a Broadway show, even the cheap tickets you can buy hours before the show starts.

  At Serendipity, we get a table and I peruse the menu full of delicious treats. The only thing I want is a frozen hot chocolate. The guys can’t decide between sundaes and banana splits. Watching their decision-making process is amusing.

  “Bananas are healthy,” Aaron tries to rationalize, “but then I want the frozen hot chocolate too.”

  “So get them both,” Drew says, his face still buried in the menu, like it’s no big deal and people just eat two desserts all the time. “I’m doing a caramel hot fudge sundae,” he announces and tosses the menu in the center of the table.

  “Fuck it. I’m doing both,” Aaron finally says, tossing his menu on top of Drew’s.

  We all sit quietly for a moment while we rest and wait for our dessert before Drew breaks the silence.

  He clears his throat and folds his hands on his lap before looking at Aaron. “When are you headed back to L.A.?”

  Aaron flips his phone around in his hand and shrugs. “Was thinking about staying here for a while. Something about the New York vibe I kind of like.” He sets his phone down on the table and rubs the stubble on his chin, not making direct eye contact with Drew. I can tell he’s trying to feel Drew out on this topic and there’s an uncomfortable silence between them.

  Drew looks at me and then back to Aaron. “But the L.A. office needs you.”

  I cringe. They’ve been getting along and this sounds like he’s trying to get rid of him.

  “They really don’t, though,” Aaron replies, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “And maybe it’s time to expand into New York.” He leans back in his chair and looks pointedly at Drew. “Ashley has been basically running the L.A. office for the last year. It’d be a great promotion for her and an opportunity for me to focus on getting New York up and running.”

  Drew holds Aaron’s gaze, showing no emotion one way or the other. I swallow hard, shifting uncomfortably in my chair. Just as I’m about to interject to ease the tension, our server appears and delivers all of our desserts. I flash her an uneasy smile because she knows she just interrupted something. There’s a weird vibe in the air and I wish we could just go back to the chummy mood of five minutes ago.

  Drew picks up his spoon and stabs his caramel hot fudge sundae before scooping out a large bite and shoving it in his mouth. I nervously swirl the straw around my frozen hot chocolate, my stomach twisting in knots as I wait for him to say something, anything.

  Drew stabs the ice cream again before releasing the spoon. Leaving it in the large mound of dairy deliciousness, he leans back in his chair.

  “Realistically…” He pauses and I about vomit with anticipation. Things have been going so good between them that I don’t want a confrontation now. “It’s not a bad idea.” Drew picks up a napkin and wipes his mouth. “But we have to sit down and build out a business expansion plan.”

  My stomach jumps in excitement, and the corners of Aaron’s lips pull into a small smile. I feel like maybe the cloud has lifted, but Drew puts up a hand.

  “Before you move across the country, let’s figure out what our business needs are and see if it makes sense.”

  “That’s fair,” Aaron responds, picking up his own spoon and digging into his banana split.

  My stomach settles and I reach for my frozen hot chocolate, finally taking a drink. Drew catches my eye, winks at me, and my heart swells with happiness. This weekend feels a whole lot like new beginnings for all of us at this table and I couldn’t be happier.

  Nineteen

  It’s unreal how easily Gracie and I have fallen into a routine. We spent the rest of the weekend getting acquainted with the condo, exploring our new neighborhood, and even spending time with Aaron. He now refers to himself as “the third wheel” because he’s been out with us twice, once while we ran errands. He made a joke about us being a “threesome,” and I almost lost my fucking mind. Almost. I was able to laugh it off and that’s when I knew I was making progress, beginning to let go of some of the rage and betrayal I feel toward him. Baby steps.

  The beginning of this week has been hectic. The last three days, Gracie has been in and out of the office with client meetings and is now pitching to two new prospective clients. She’s stressed, but I’ve seen what she’s doing with her pitches, and with the support of her team, they are phenomenal. She’s truly one of the most talented account managers I’ve ever worked with. She’s wise beyond her years.

  I haven’t told her my plans to take her to California for the weekend, although I’ve asked Sue to clear her calendar
for Friday—which she’s graciously done—and Gracie either hasn’t noticed or hasn’t said anything yet.

  At three o’clock, after a full day of conference calls and meetings, I send an email to Grace asking her to please come to my office. She doesn’t respond, per usual, but about five minutes later, there’s a light knock on my office door.

  “Come in,” I say.

  Grace enters the office and cocks an eyebrow at me. “Mr. McPherson,” she says, glancing over her shoulder to see Sue typing away at her desk. “You requested a meeting with me?” A playful smile tugs at her lips.

  I grin. I love when she tries to be all professional in the office. “I did. Come in.” I gesture to the chair across my desk. She narrows her eyes at me in question, but she obeys and closes the office door before taking a seat.

  “Does this have anything to do with the vacation request for Friday that Eddie approved, and I didn’t submit?” She purses her lips and taps the arm of the chair with her hand in mock annoyance.

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t you think you should talk to me before using my vacation days? Maybe I was saving them for something—”

  “Like what? It was one day,” I point out, genuinely curious what she’d use her days for. In the human resources system, it shows she still has twenty days to schedule out and she’s allowed twenty-five days per year. It’s mid-September and she’s only used five days this year.

  She shrugs. “Maybe I was going to go home for Christmas.”

  “For the entire month?” I frown. “We’re closed the week between Christmas and New Year’s and you have twenty days of vacation left, Grace. I requested one day for you. Please humor me and use it.”

  She sighs loudly. “It’s going to look weird if we’re out of the office at the same time,” she whispers, as if anyone can hear her from inside my office with the door closed.

  “It’s a Friday. Do you know how many people take Fridays off? Half the damn office is gone on Fridays, Gracie.”

  She rolls her eyes at me but concedes. “Fine. What are we doing?”

  I get excited thinking about taking her to California. “It’s a surprise. Tonight, when we get home, though, you need to start packing a bag. We leave Friday morning. Pack casual. Jeans, long sleeve shirts, and a jacket.”

  “I don’t like surprises,” she reminds me.

  “Well, I do.” I wink at her. “Just trust me. You’re going to love this.” I hope.

  * * *

  Thursday passes by in a blur. The office was crazy, and I barely saw Gracie except for at home. Home. I love the sound of that. We’re falling into our routine there too. We try to cook but usually end up calling for delivery after one of us royally screws up our sad attempt at making a meal. Then we spend our nights watching TV, making love, sleeping, and then start our days all over again. It’s a routine I’m absolutely in love with. Just like I love her.

  Thankfully, it’s Friday, and I get to whisk Gracie away for a short weekend.

  “The airport!” she hollers and smacks my arm when Tony pulls up to the curb at JFK airport. “I’ve never been on a plane,” she admits, her fingers gripping my wrist. “I’m afraid of planes.”

  This admission stuns me. “How did you get to New York City from Montana?”

  “Bus.”

  I blink at her. “You rode a bus from Montana to New York City?” I ask, thinking she can’t be serious.

  She nods quickly. “Yep, took three days.”

  I’m amazed she had the willpower to ride a bus for three days. Then again, when resources are limited, I imagine you do what you have to do. This makes me love her even more and I want to spoil her with experiences that she’ll always remember, like her first plane ride.

  The back door opens, and Tony stands there waiting for us to get out. When he sees Gracie’s contemplative face, he begins unloading luggage from the trunk while I try to calm her.

  Squeezing her hand, I tell her, “It’s going to be fine. I’ll be in the seat next to you and nothing is going to happen, I promise.”

  “Drew.” Her voice is shaky as she drags a breath in through her nose and exhales.

  “Trust me.” I press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.” My meaning is much deeper than this flight.

  Her misty eyes lock onto mine and she nods, but I also hear her mumble under her breath, “You can’t control airplanes, asshole,” and I laugh. She hasn’t lost her spirit at least.

  With first class tickets, we breeze through security and get to our gate where Gracie shuffles from foot-to-foot. She’s so nervous, she can’t sit down. She stands at the window and watches the ground crew load luggage onto the plane while she chews on her thumbnail. She’s fascinated, watching as they also fuel the plane. She hasn’t noticed the electronic board that tells her we’re flying to San Francisco, or if she has, she hasn’t said anything.

  When the gate agent finally makes an announcement that first class can board, Gracie grabs my hand and shakes her head. “I can’t do this.” I can see the fear in her eyes.

  “You can,” I urge her.

  “Drew…” She sounds like she’s about to throw up.

  “Gracie.” I squeeze her hand. “Trust me.”

  “Okay,” she whispers and laces her fingers through mine.

  I have our boarding passes on my phone and get us through the gate with no issues. However, I have to all but drag her down the jetway to the plane. I’m thankful we’re in first class, so we don’t have to go as far. I guide her to the window seat, trapping her there. Thankfully, she’s too busy fidgeting with everything—her seatbelt, the window shade, and her tray table—to let her nerves get the better of her. Before takeoff, I order two glasses of wine, hoping it will help take the edge off her nerves.

  Fortunately, it does the trick. She’s as cool as a cucumber when the plane is lifting into the air, although she does have a death grip on my hand.

  “We’re good,” I tell her quietly. She nods, her attention focused out the window and the New York City skyline.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she muses.

  “It is.” Except I’m not looking at the skyline, I’m looking at her.

  * * *

  “San Francisco! Eek!” Gracie exclaims excitedly.

  I chuckle, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. My heart swells with her growing excitement.

  “Will you show me the Golden Gate Bridge?” she asks as we wait for our luggage at baggage claim.

  “It’s on the agenda,” I tell her, yanking her suitcase off the luggage carousel. I’ve arranged for a car to pick us up and take us to my apartment in downtown San Francisco for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll head to Napa before heading back to New York City on Sunday.

  Once we’ve collected our luggage and found our driver, we’re on our way into the city. As much as I love New York City, I’ve missed San Francisco. In a sense, I grew up here, learned everything about advertising here. I also experienced the most pain here, and it’s bittersweet to be back.

  Gracie smiles out the window as she takes in the sights of San Francisco. Thankfully, traffic is light, and it takes us less than a half hour to get to my building. The driver helps me unload our luggage and I manage to get it all over to the elevator. Gracie keeps trying to help, but I’ve got it under control. I want her to enjoy this weekend and not lift a finger. It’s about her relaxing. I can imagine she hasn’t had a vacation in years, if ever. I never broached the subject with her because I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

  Once we’re in my place, I breathe a sigh of relief. Tiffany did everything I asked of her. She had the cleaners come so the apartment is pristine, and the fridge is stocked with a few things to get us through tonight and tomorrow morning.

  “This apartment is gorgeous,” Gracie breathes, throwing herself down onto the leather couch. It’s the opposite of my New York City condo. Everything here is dark and masculine. Dark leather, dark cherry kitchen cabinets, cl
ean lines, and edgy décor. “But I like your New York City place better.” She smiles at me.

  “Our place,” I correct her, but she doesn’t acknowledge it, and I agree with her. Our place in New York is more her. It’s light and bright and homey. This apartment was the old me. Dark and cold. It amazes me how quickly I’ve been able to let go of San Francisco and embrace New York City and I know it’s because of Gracie.

  I pour us a couple glasses of wine and join her on the couch. I tell her all the San Francisco history I can drum up, and she asks a million questions until her eyes become so heavy, she falls asleep. I knew she was exhausted when we landed. I should put her to bed, but I can’t bring myself to just yet. Instead, I watch her, running my fingers lightly through her hair. She’s stunning, even when she’s sleeping. Her hands are curled under her cheek and she rests her head on the arm of the couch.

  As I slide my arms under her to carry her to the bedroom, she wakes, her eyes heavy with sleep. “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” I whisper, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m just really tired.” She yawns, stretches, then pushes herself up from the couch, following me to the bedroom. She strips down naked, dropping her clothes in a pile on the floor before sliding into the center of my king-sized bed and wrapping her entire body around a pillow. I do the same, sliding in behind her and wrapping myself around her.

  I wake to an empty bed and the sound of a toilet flushing. It’s still dark and I crack an eye open to see the clock. Three thirty-seven in the morning. I hear more sounds and the toilet flush again before I finally get up to see if Gracie is okay.

  “G,” I say, knocking on the bathroom door.

  “Go away,” she mumbles back, then the sounds of the toilet flushing again.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m dying.”

  I hear her spitting into the toilet, and my heart sinks for her. I think back to yesterday and wonder if she ate something bad. She had fish on the airplane.