Her Perfect Affair

by Priscilla Oliveras

  “¡Nunca!” Lilí punctuated her “never” with a sharp jerk of her head.

  “That’s what Father Yosef said,” Rosa murmured.

  “Well, that’s one thing the old man and I agree on.”

  “Ay, don’t be disrespectful!” Rosa admonished her younger sister.

  Lilí waved off Rosa’s words with a scowl. “Whatever.”

  “I don’t see what this has to do with you and Jeremy.” Yaz crooked an elbow on the back of the sofa, resting her head against her fist.

  “Stepping in to try and fill Mami’s shoes, at first anyway, was like my penance. After a while, it became second nature. Doing for others gave me comfort. But, there were times when I resented the expectation that I would always take care of everything.” Rosa leaned forward to set her tea on the coffee table, too stressed to care about finishing it. “I don’t want Jeremy to get to a point where he feels a similar resentment toward me, or our baby. You know, because him sticking around is expected. Instead of what he really wants.”

  “That’s jumping to a pretty big conclusion, don’t you think?” Yaz asked.

  Rosa shrugged listlessly. She was tired of worrying. Tired of being afraid he might not want to be with her. So tired of the mental what-if game. “I don’t know. It’s just, I need him to be sure this is what he wants. That it’s not an obligation.”

  “What about you? Are you sure?” Yaz’s softy spoken question had Rosa’s heart swelling with a sort of pleasure-pain.

  She was sure that she missed being with him. Seeing his smile when she came down first thing in the morning. She missed the comfort of sitting on the couch reading quietly together or watching a show on TV. Their interesting conversations and how he valued her input. The way he took care of her and his determination to be a good person. Both traits she identified with and were important to her.

  And she really missed the rush of desire, the heady wantonness that consumed her only in his arms.

  Was she sure she wanted to be with him?

  Tears clogging her throat, Rosa nodded.

  “Then why did you make him leave?” Lilí asked.

  “Because, well, I’m not . . .” Overwhelmed by the uncertainty of whether or not she’d made a mistake, Rosa buried her face in her hands.

  “What is it?” Yaz combed her fingers through Rosa’s hair, the gesture a comfort from her childhood when Mami and Papi would do the same.

  Lilí came around to the other side of the couch, pushing Rosa over so she sat sandwiched between her sisters.

  “I know I’ve asked you this before, but I need you to be truthful,” Lilí said, her tone oddly firm, no-nonsense. “Did Jeremy do something to hurt you?”

  “Estás loca?” Yaz cried.

  “No, I’m not crazy, I heard raised voices in Rosa’s room. When Jeremy came downstairs he was pissed. Or maybe hurt. Hell, I’m not sure because I raced upstairs to check on Rosa.”

  “So they had an argument. What couple doesn’t?”

  “Right, but you never know what goes on behind closed doors.”

  “Ay, no seas tan exajerada.”

  “I’m not exaggerating,” Lilí insisted.

  “Stop,” Rosa grumbled. “Enough already.”

  Their bickering mimicked her own internal wrangling, and she was exhausted by it all. With a bone-weary sigh, she fell back against the leather sofa cushions.

  “No, Jeremy did not hurt me. I sent him away because I want him to really think things through. If he isn’t sure. If he’s only with me because he feels responsible.” Shivers of fear and regret shook her shoulders. “I couldn’t live with myself. And besides, I told you two already, and I said the same to Father Yosef. I have to prove to myself that I’ll be okay as a single parent. Regardless of what others in our community might think.”

  “Good for you!” Lilí wrapped her arms around Rosa and gave her a tight squeeze. “I haven’t said this enough, but I’m proud of you, girl. I love you!”

  Rosa gave her little sister a tremulous smile. She placed a protective hand on her belly. “If I can’t stand up for myself and my baby, what kind of mamá would I be, right?”

  * * *

  Jeremy washed his hands in the men’s restroom near the IT office at Taylor & Millward late Wednesday afternoon. The tired, scruffy-faced reflection staring back at him was a good indication of the long hours and late nights he and Henderson had put in since last week. They’d painstakingly scoured the firm’s computer system, searching for the vulnerable point through which the hackers had gained entry.

  Initially they had figured out that the HR files had been breached. That’s what had led to the identity theft issues the two men from the holiday party had mentioned.

  Jeremy and Henderson’s concerns had morphed into bigger ones when they’d realized private client information might have been compromised. If that had happened, it would be a huge hit for the firm and their clients’ trust in them.

  After all his searching, Jeremy felt confident they’d dodged that bullet. Good or bad, only their employee database had been targeted.

  He dried his hands, tossing the paper towel into the trash bin across the tile floor in a fairly decent imitation of a basketball star. Scoring the shot wasn’t much cause for celebration, but he’d successfully solved the firm’s problem and that did warrant one. The thrill of challenging his computer skills and besting the hacker energized his tired body.

  Leaving the restroom, he headed down the empty hall toward Henderson’s office. This late in the evening, all of the HR and service staff housed on the third floor had left, the hum of chatter and business earlier in the day now silenced.

  As he approached the door, he heard Henderson speaking to someone and assumed the older man had received a phone call. Jeremy pivoted into the office and halted when he caught sight of Sherman bending over the glossy black conference table to peer at the computer Jeremy had been using over the past week.

  “Uh, hi. Didn’t expect to see you,” Jeremy said.

  It was actually the first time he’d seen his dad since Jeremy had started working with Henderson. Sherman had stayed away, getting updates via phone. A couple of times, Henderson had ventured up to the sixth-floor partner offices, but Jeremy had stayed behind.

  Supposedly his dad was trying to give him some space. At least, that’s what his mom had said when Jeremy had finally decided to pick up his cell the third or fourth time she’d called.

  Sherman straightened at Jeremy’s greeting. With his feet set in a wide stance, hands on his hips, he made a commanding figure. Even this late in the day, his light blue button-down shirt remained wrinkle-free and crisp, his navy and yellow striped tie still knotted tightly, as if he’d just arrived at the office instead of having clocked probably twelve hours already.

  “Henderson called with the good news,” Sherman announced, a satisfied grin spreading his lips. “I figured it warranted a thank-you in person. You’ve done an incredible job for us.”

  He held out his hand, and Jeremy shook it, pleased by his father’s praise.

  “It was good teamwork,” Jeremy answered, tilting his head toward Henderson, who stood in front of the window overlooking the darkened city skyline.

  The older man’s grey hair was rumpled, his shirtsleeves haphazardly rolled up. His tie had been tossed aside around one when they’d ordered Chinese food for lunch.

  Now that Jeremy stopped to get a good look at Henderson, he noticed the haggard tiredness emphasizing the older man’s craggy features. The last few days had whipped him as hard as they’d whipped Jeremy.

  “You’re not fooling anyone, kid. I provided some assistance, but you identified the problem.” Henderson pointed a stubby finger at Jeremy. “I already told Sherman, I wound up behind the eight ball on this.”

  “Hey, I just happened to be in the right place at the right time to hear the right information.” Holding his arms out at his sides, Jeremy gave a little shrug, loath to take all the credit. “I got lucky.”
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  Henderson shook his head, crossing the grey carpeted floor to reach for his phone when it vibrated on his desk. “I’d say we got lucky. No question about it, you saved our asses, kid.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  The older man exchanged a look with Sherman before pocketing his phone. “Funny you should say that. I’m going to step out, give my wife a quick call to let her know I’m alive while you two gentlemen talk. It would be great to hear good news when I come back.”

  Sherman nodded at Henderson as the man strode past him on his way out.

  Jeremy glanced between the two of them, wondering what he’d missed during his short bathroom break.

  “Son—no, scratch that. This is business. I don’t want any misunderstandings about where this is coming from.” Sherman swiped a hand in the air as if erasing a whiteboard in front of him. “Jeremy, over the weekend while we discussed this fiasco, Henderson shared an idea with me. One that I believe holds strong merit.”

  Jeremy eyed his father, uncertain where the conversation was headed.

  He’d spent the better part of a week holed up in this office, Henderson by his side. They’d discussed their work and Jeremy’s double master’s in computers and business. Henderson had shared plenty of stories about his wife and two grown kids; Jeremy had sidestepped questions about his personal life, unsure how the hell to explain what was going on between him and Rosa.

  As he thought back over his conversations with Henderson, he didn’t recall the older man mentioning talking to Sherman about anything other than updates on the hacking.

  “I don’t think I know what idea you’re talking about,” he told his dad.

  “Well, it’s more like a recommendation,” Sherman qualified.

  He pulled out two of the black leather rolling chairs side by side at the conference table, motioning for Jeremy to join him.

  “It’s been a while since you’ve darkened the halls of Taylor & Millward, hasn’t it?” Sherman asked.

  Since he’d left for grad school eight years ago. Holiday visits didn’t really necessitate stopping by the firm, and that’s mainly when Jeremy had come back to Chicago.

  He nodded in response, uncomfortable with the direction this conversation could take. Even though he knew it was long overdue.

  “I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t looked back at that time, wondering if I put too much pressure on you in some way.” Sherman scratched his chin, his tone contemplative.

  “Dad, this is all on me. My hang-ups. Not yours.”

  “Yeah, it didn’t take me long to realize that.”

  Jeremy huffed out a laugh at his dad’s sarcastic tone.

  Sherman leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked at his waist. “Here’s the thing. All your mom and I expect from you and your brother is that you work hard, earn the respect of others, and make a positive difference.”

  Jeremy’s chest tightened with the pressure of wanting to live up to Sherman’s expectations.

  “In whatever career you choose,” his dad added.

  “I know.”

  And he did. Now.

  Time and distance had helped, but in large part his change of perspective was thanks to Rosa.

  Missing Chicago and his family had precipitated his decision to request an office transfer a year ago. Even then, though, he’d been deluding himself that simply moving back was enough. Until Rosa had challenged him to figure things out—for himself, not just for her and the baby—he hadn’t fully accepted that the onus was on him to take the first step if he wanted to make amends with his dad.

  A step like requesting unplanned vacation from work so he could devote all his time to the problem at Taylor & Millward. Helping a place, and the people, he’d distanced himself from all those years ago. All because of foolish pride and embarrassment.

  “Am I happy you transferred back to Chicago? Yeah, I am.” Sherman bobbed his head, his office chair moving in tiny bounces with the motion.

  “Am I thrilled you’re here?” He jabbed his pointer finger onto the conference tabletop, emphasizing his last word. “In our offices, proving outright the value of your skills and expertise? As a founding partner of this firm, you better believe I’m thrilled.

  “But as your father . . .” He leaned forward, grabbing Jeremy’s knee in a firm grip. Sherman’s piercing stare, the one that had famously swayed juries and judges, ensnared Jeremy, refusing to let him look away. “As your father, I am damn proud of you, son.”

  All the air rushed out of Jeremy, his body going slack as sweet relief flowed over him. It didn’t matter that he was almost thirty, he could be seventeen or seventy and he’d still get choked up hearing those words from Sherman.

  Resting an elbow on the table, he kneaded the knotted muscles in his neck and swallowed past the baseball-sized lump in his throat. “That . . . that really means a lot to me.”

  “It’s the truth. It’s always been the truth.”

  Only Jeremy had been too young and immature, and then too far away, living halfway across the country, to mend the broken connection with his dad.

  They sat in a companionable silence, the weight of guilt finally lifting off Jeremy’s shoulders.

  After a while, Sherman thumped his fist on Jeremy’s knee, then sat back in his chair. “You’re probably wondering how that correlates to Henderson’s recommendation.”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, he didn’t mention anything to me.”

  “I asked him not to until this situation had been diffused. Truthfully, Mark’s had one foot out the door to retirement for several years now.”

  “It’ll be tough to replace him.”

  “Yes, it will.” His expression contemplative, Sherman stared out the expansive window at the city skyline outlined in lights against the dark evening sky. “We convinced him to stay on as a stopgap while starting a search for his successor. The thing is, until a few days ago, there hasn’t been anyone he felt comfortable handing the reins over to.”

  Sherman shot Jeremy a sideways glance.

  Jeremy blinked in surprise. No way was his dad implying what Jeremy thought he was.

  “Mark’s old school, like me,” his dad continued, swiveling his chair to face Jeremy. “He recognizes that technology is changing faster than he can. Taylor & Millward doesn’t need a head of IT—we need a director of cyber security. Someone with his finger on the pulse of what’s cutting edge, with proven success and the résumé to back it up. Someone like you.”

  His head reeling, Jeremy stared back at his dad, unable to form coherent words. Long ago he’d given up on the idea of joining Sherman at the firm. Instead, he’d broken off and gone his own way. Ignoring the hole his decision had created in his life.

  Until Rosa had challenged him to deal with it.

  “I know you’ve got a good position with an eye on a promotion in your company. And you stepping in to help us now doesn’t mean you’re ready to jump on board. So I’m not asking you to give me an answer right away.”

  Sherman pushed his chair back to stand, then waited for Jeremy to do the same. “Simply, think about it. Talk with Mark. More importantly, talk it over with Rosa. This would be another big change for you, but it would keep you from going overseas.”

  Which meant he’d stay close to Rosa and the baby. A definite perk.

  “I’m . . . surprised,” Jeremy admitted, “but intrigued.”

  More than intrigued.

  Excitement hummed like a swarm of bees in his ears.

  “That’s good to hear.” Sherman clasped Jeremy’s hand in a firm grip. “There isn’t anyone else I’d trust more than you with this role, Jeremy. I say that as a partner, as well as your father.”

  A lightness he hadn’t felt around his dad in years lifted Jeremy’s spirit. “I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

  Sherman tugged him into a back-slapping hug.

  “Mark mentioned an early morning tomorrow to wrap up the security audit. Why don’t you get out of here for a bit?�
� his dad said. “Go home and get some rest. Or better yet, take a drive out to the suburbs.”

  Stepping back from his dad’s hug, Jeremy grinned at the subtext in his father’s suggestion. They both knew why the suburbs held so much appeal.

  Rosa.

  Man, he couldn’t wait to see her. Tell her about this opportunity that, without her encouragement, probably never would have presented itself.

  A drive to the suburbs, to the place and the amazing woman he had come to think of as home, was definitely in order.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Rosa’s already in bed,” Lilí said when she opened the door to the Fernandez house.

  Jeremy’s elation fizzled like a dud firework as he stepped into the foyer.

  Running on adrenaline fumes laced with excitement, he’d driven to Oakton on autopilot. His only thought: get home to Rosa and share the news.

  She’d understand why his heart pounded and his hands shook with nervous energy over Sherman’s offer. Because she was the only person he had truly confided in.

  Right now, all he wanted was to see her brown eyes sparkle with joy, her lips tugging up in her shy smile. He’d even take an “I told you so” if it came from her.

  Jeremy pushed up the edge of his winter coat sleeve to find the gold hands on his watch pointing to nine forty-seven. No wonder the upstairs windows were darkened.

  When he’d pulled up and noticed the television’s flickering light behind the living room curtains, he’d crossed his fingers that it meant Rosa was still up, maybe watching another documentary.

  “Did you not try calling her before you drove all the way out here?” Lilí asked.

  Jeremy shook his head as he unbuttoned his coat and shrugged out of it. “Thought I’d get here faster and surprise her.”

  Dumb move on his part.

  Surprise! She was already sleeping.

  Lilí turned the front lock, then spun on her black furry house slippers to face him. Arms crossed, she leaned back against the door. Sporting fuchsia fleece pajama bottoms and a black long-sleeved top with fuchsia polka dots, her face washed clean of makeup, she looked ready for bed herself.