Left Behind (Lost & Found #1)

by C. L. Stacey

  A look of regret flashes in her eyes when the meltdown she’s having finally registers with her. “Goddammit!” She lets out a frustrated cry, turning away from me when her tears threaten to flow all over again.

  It lasts only for a brief moment, just until she somehow locates an emotion-off switch. She takes in two deep breaths before turning to face me again. “I’m done here,” she says, completely normal.

  What the hell?

  “If you need me at all for any upcoming events, call me or the office and make an appointment. Thank you, it’s been a pleasure working with you.” Lexi then gathers all her things and leaves me standing there alone, dazed and confused.

  “What? Wait,” I say, far from finished. She doesn’t stop. “Lexi, wait…”

  “Goodbye, Jackson.”

  What the fucking hell?!

  One conversation. That’s all it took for me to set us back. All the progress we’d made, just out the fucking window.

  If ever there was a moment I felt like kicking myself in the head, it’s now. Maybe I should walk out into the living room and pay Daniel to do it for me.

  Dammit…

  All I wanted to do when I saw her step off that elevator today was make her feel better. But all I did was make it worse.

  What was I thinking? She doesn’t need me. She barely knows me.

  My hands grip around the edge of the island, and I sink my head between my shoulders as I replay our conversation out in my head. What the hell was I thinking? I ask myself again, too frustrated to think about anything else.

  I know exactly what I was thinking. ‘Hey, there’s someone who’s as sad as I feel today.’ I thought that maybe if we shared our pain, it would somehow make it more bearable.

  I’m sick of being sad.

  I’m sick of being alone.

  I’m sick of being sad alone…

  A knock comes from behind me, and I spin around in hopes that Lexi has come back to talk, but I’m disappointed when I find Daniel instead.

  “Sir, is everything okay in here?” he asks worriedly. “I heard shouting…”

  “Can you do me a favor?” I ask.

  “Of course, Mr. Anderson. What do you need?”

  “Kick me in the head.”

  Daniel looks back at me like I’ve just kicked him in the head. “Sir?”

  I shake my head, still pissed at myself, and I run a hand roughly over my mouth. “Everything’s fine, Daniel.”

  He doesn’t buy that for a second. “What can I do for you, Mr. Anderson?” he asks, readily awaiting my order.

  I release the marble counter and right my posture, then I shove my hands into my pockets, and I roll my head back to sigh up at the ceiling.

  An emotion-off switch would be nice…

  I’m about to lose my mind.

  I’ll never be able to sleep tonight, thanks to my mistake. Not until I fix it.

  Leave her alone, the words loop through my mind.

  But I don’t want to.

  Returning my hand to the counter, I turn toward Daniel, slowly tapping the tips of my fingers against the cool surface. I don’t say anything yet, because I’m afraid of what I’m currently thinking; the mere thought of my next move scares even me.

  I’m not thinking clearly.

  It’s a really, really bad idea.

  Daniel looks around uncomfortably when he can’t bear the awkward silence.

  “Have the car ready to go in about an hour, would you?” I say.

  Daniel’s gaze returns to mine, and he looks worried.

  He should be.

  I’m about to cross another line.

  My phone rings for what seems like the millionth time today, but I’m curious when I hear it isn’t any of the special tones I’ve assigned to each member of my family.

  On good chance of it being a business call from Stephanie, I pick my phone up from the couch and check the screen.

  I blink when I think I’ve read the name wrong, but still, the same name flashes across the screen.

  Of all the people to expect, I didn’t expect to see Jackson’s name.

  Things spun way out of control earlier. I didn’t think he’d risk speaking to me again today.

  Jackson has absolutely nothing to do with this shitty day, I feel horrible for going off on him the way I did. I’ve just been on edge between the endless amount of calls and messages from my friends and family that I just completely lost it on him.

  Regardless of what today is, my behavior was inexcusable. He didn’t deserve to be treated that way; I was way out of line. I owe him an apology, a really freaking good one.

  Will he be mad? He will be mad. Most definitely he will. Why wouldn’t he be? I yelled at him for reasons completely unknown to him.

  I inhale deeply, once for courage, and the second with a tiny prayer. “Hello?” I answer, keeping my voice nice and even.

  “Lexi, it’s Jackson.”

  I roll my eyes on a small laugh. “Yes, I know, I have your number saved on my phone.”

  “Oh, right,” he says.

  “What’s up?”

  “I am parked downstairs, will you please come down?”

  My eyes widen in shock. “You’re what?!” I look around. Which I realize is stupid. He’s obviously not in my condo.

  “I’m downstairs in the parking garage,” he repeats coolly. “I’m on my way out to dinner, and I’d like for you to accompany me.”

  There’s no question anywhere in that request. It’s more of an order. He’s more polite with me than he is with others, but it’s still an order.

  I get that he feels bad about what happened earlier, but I’m in no mood to be out and about in public. I feel like shit. I just want to stay home and mope like I always do on this day.

  “Umm…” I linger on, trying to buy myself some time.

  “You eat, don’t you?”

  “I do, but…”

  “I don’t want to eat alone, Lexi. All I’m asking for is your company.” Two sentences worth two tons in guilt slam hard against my chest, making it impossible for me to turn him down.

  My eyes drop to the outfit I have on. There’s just no way I’m going out like this—

  A knock on the door rips me from my thoughts. I exhale a heavy breath, aggravated with whichever one of my family members is standing on the other side of my door.

  “Hold, please. Someone’s at my door,” I say to him as I swing it open.

  No.

  I freeze. I blink. Once, twice…

  Jackson offers me a small, guilty smile. “Hello.”

  “Hold, please. Someone’s at my door,” she says, but I don’t tell her it’s me because there’s a good chance she won’t open up if she knows.

  The door swings wide open, and I’m taken aback by what I see.

  I’m so used to seeing her in her work attire that I can’t help mask my surprise when I see her in casual loungewear.

  The color of her bright orange tank top burns my eyes a little. The waistband of her black yoga leggings folds down, showing a pattern of black and matching orange stripes that wrap all the way around. The stretchy black material stops just past her knees, and that’s when I notice her bare feet, clean and manicured.

  No wonder she seems a little shorter than usual, she loses a few inches without her usual heels.

  My gaze slowly lifts again before landing on her face. She doesn’t look pissed, but she doesn’t necessarily appear elated to see me either. Not that I expected her to. I was actually expecting her to be upset with me, so this is one for the win column.

  I notice the messy bun resting on the top of her head, and I smile because it’s cute. It makes her look younger.

  “Hello,” I greet her first.

  “Mr. Anderson…”

  “Jackson,” I correct her.

  She catches her slip just as soon as I point it out. “Jackson,” she quickly revises her greeting. “Um…” She looks around then takes a step toward me, poking her head out the do
or to look for someone. When she finds that I’m alone, she sticks her head back inside. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

  “After you left the way you did, I was worried you’d skip dinner and just hole yourself up at home…”

  “That is the plan,” she confirms my suspicions.

  “That is why I’m here,” I say. “I’m here to take you out.”

  She responds to my dinner proposal with an unexpected giggle, waving her hand up and down the length of her body. “Thank you for the offer, but as you can see, I’m not dressed to go out.”

  “Perfectly fine. I’ll wait.” I let myself into her home without waiting for an invitation.

  I’m relieved to hear the door click shut behind me instead of finding myself back on the other side of it.

  She’s going to let me stay, that’s another one for the win column.

  I turn back around to face her, my eyes slowly scanning her place as I do.

  When I finally meet her gaze, her arms cross low in front of her body, like she’s suddenly embarrassed of her appearance. “As you witnessed for yourself earlier, I’m a little too hostile to be let out in public today. I’ll only embarrass you.”

  “You can never embarrass me.”

  She’s running out of excuses, and I can see her begin to fret about it. I get that she thinks she wants to be alone, but I know for a fact she doesn’t—no one ever truly wants to be alone. I’m not taking no for an answer. No is not an acceptable option.

  “I’m really not in the mood to be in the middle of a crowded place right now, Jackson. I’m sorry. Maybe another time, just not today,” she lets me down gently.

  Disappointment fills my chest, but I do my best not to show it as I nod my head. “You’re not up for crowds, but are you up for the company of one?” I ask, hopeful.

  “I’m not the best company right now,” she insists with a shake of her head.

  That’s not true. She’s the best company, even on her worst days.

  “Company is company. It beats eating alone,” I say, and her expression changes to one of understanding. “You can say no…”

  She laughs at that. “Where would that get me? Would you take no for an answer?”

  “No, probably not.”

  Lexi rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling when she walks past me. “Come on in,” she says with defeat.

  I WIN.

  I feel proud of myself when receiving a formal invitation into her home. I half-expected to fail.

  “Thank you,” I say as I follow behind her.

  I’m impressed with what I see. Her place is nice, and clean, very clean. I’m surprised when I notice the black hardwood floors all throughout the home. I’ve never actually seen it done before, but it seems more my style than hers.

  “Black floors?” I tease, smiling to myself when I hear her chuckle.

  She leads us into her living room, and I take it all in. The light, mint-colored accent rug with a chevron pattern stands out nicely against the dark flooring. Decorative throw pillows, different in size and color, are neatly arranged across a wide grey sectional, giving it a very warm, inviting feel.

  “Go on, have a seat,” she offers, her voice bringing me back.

  “You live beautifully,” I compliment.

  “Thank you.” A proud smile spreads across her face. “My grandmother left this place to me when she passed.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  With a wave of her hand, Lexi brushes it off. “She lived a very fulfilled life, don’t worry. Please.” She gestures toward the couch. “Sit.”

  I do as I’m told, shrugging out of my jacket on my way to the section lined against the wall, but I stop short when Lexi extends her hand to me. “Here, let me take that for you,” she offers.

  “Thank you.” I hand it over.

  Sure, I’m her client, and maybe that’s why she’s being so hospitable, but I welcome her kind gesture with a smile.

  Wait a minute. Scratch that. Because it fades quickly when she eyes my jacket as if it’s something I’d taken from a bum off the street.

  “What’s wrong? That’s new, I swear,” I say, my eyes still glued to her face as I point to it. She hasn’t looked up from the jacket yet, and seconds tick by while she says nothing. It’s clear she’s unhappy about something. I just don’t know what. “Does it smell or something, what’s wrong?” I ask, pushing to get an answer out of her.

  “I can’t believe it, you wear black behind my back?” she asks, her tone accusing.

  “Oh.” My eyes drop to my all-black outfit. I almost laugh. Almost. But I feel I know her well enough to know I’d only further piss her off if I did. “Yes,” I answer honestly, finding it unacceptable to lie to her in her own home.

  She shakes her head at me with disapproval. “Who do you think you are? Batman?” she snaps at me.

  I blink at her. “Bat-what? No! I’m sorry, it’s just… habit. Even after a few weeks of trying, I’m still having trouble wearing the colors of the rainbow!”

  I’ve made it worse.

  She shakes her head at me again. “You, my friend, are hopeless.” She follows with a heavy, frustrated sigh. “Why did you even hire me?”

  “That’s an excellent question,” I shoot back.

  I meant for the response to come off playful, but when I see her mouth drop open with a loud gasp, I immediately abort. “Kidding!” I blurt. “I’m, of course, kidding.”

  Something’s happening. Her cheeks flush an angry red, and I can practically see the steam shooting from her ears. “I quit!”

  “You what?”

  “Aha!” Lexi points a finger at me. “I’ve got jokes, too, Batman,” she spits, still half-mad.

  Finding humor in her obsession with linking me to Batman, I laugh. “Come on, now. Did you really think that I’d voluntarily put on a bubble-gum pink shirt, Lexi?”

  The grip she has around my jacket tightens when she lifts it toward my face. “If you want me to continue to keep our appointments, you will.”

  That is a sure threat, and a part of me believes her. From the very beginning, she hasn’t been too keen on the idea of having to come work for me.

  “And it’s not bubble-gum pink, it’s salmon!” she snaps.

  I shrug. “Pink is pink. I don’t do pink.”

  It’s understandable, her reaction to my transgression to her laws of fashion. She is right. I did hire her for a reason. She did her job well, and then I go and order more black behind her back. I deserve to be yelled at a little bit, I get it.

  “Hopeless!” she all but shouts the word at my face.

  I move to stand in her way when she tries to march away from me. “I’m sorry.”

  My jacket moves against her body when she crosses her arms over her chest. She tries to pull it off, but I can tell she wasn’t expecting my apology. Her eyes give her away.

  “I am sorry, Lexi,” I say with sincerity. “I won’t do it again.”

  “I appreciate the apology, but you are only half-forgiven,” she grumbles.

  A joke, or at least I think it is. I’m just glad to be able to help get her mind off of her problem, even if I only ended up redirecting that anger toward me.

  “So am I just never allowed to wear black again?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Set your rules, then. When am I allowed to wear black?”

  She thinks on this for a moment, but she doesn’t leave me hanging for long before she responds with, “When I see that you’re comfortable enough with my rainbow.” Then she sidesteps me, disappearing somewhere down the hall to hang my jacket up.

  The woman knows how to push my buttons, but I know I made the right call in coming here. I feel better already.

  Wanting to be around someone who regularly pisses you off may sound strange to most, but I like being around her. I find her quite charming, actually.

  She’s smart not to take any bullshit from me like the rest of the world does. She’s brutally honest
; it’s the first thing I decided I both liked and disliked about her. The fact that she isn’t afraid to speak her mind is refreshing.

  When Lexi has yet to return, I take advantage of my window of opportunity and decide to be a little nosy. My eyes take in the rest of what I didn’t get the chance to see.

  Every little thing from artwork to furniture worked together to make the place cozier, homier. I actually feel more comfortable here than I do at my own place.

  A wide black shelf sits just below her TV, the surface littered with picture frames of all different shapes and sizes. I am curious to see the people in Lexi’s life, but the distance makes it challenging to really make any of them out.

  My feet move on their own accord, carrying me to her sea of memories. I see that some of the photographs are of her as a child and some of her as a teenager, but none are recent, not from what I can tell.

  I bend at the knees to get a better look.

  Judging by a photo of her standing smack dab in the center of a huddled group, smiling from ear to ear in a black and blue uniform, I gather she was a cheerleader in high school. She looks so happy, and I’m well aware of the smile it brings to my face.

  I move down the line and see a couple of her with people I can only presume to be her grandparents—I highly doubt that she’d just go hanging out with old people for kicks, they have to be family.

  The rest are of her and two other kids, and there are a lot. It’s a series of them through the years, a boy and a girl.

  The girl, I presume, is Harper, and the boy, Kellan. I would ask for confirmation, but I don’t want to come off too nosy. Plus, Lexi did say she wanted a day free of questions, so I’ll save them for another day.

  My smile grows wider when I catch a Halloween photo in the corner. She looks really young in this one, can’t be much older than ten. I chuckle softly to myself at the sight of her and Harper in their Woody and Buzz Lightyear costumes. Kellan is dressed as Andy.

  When I hear her coming back down the hall, I rush back to the section of the couch I picked out earlier and pretend I wasn’t just stalking every cherished moment of her past.