Thankfully, before he could say anything else or I made a further fool of myself, the elevator doors chimed open on his floor.
“Have a good day, Ms. Reynolds,” he said, turning to face me and holding the elevator doors open as he did yesterday. This time he did something different. His eyes carried from mine down the length of my body, leaving a blazing line of fire in their wake.
Holy hell. My breath hitched when he got to my lower torso, flipping a switch in between my legs and making it pulse immediately. I couldn’t help it. He certainly affected me…and he knew it.
“We all go out after work on Tuesdays; do you wanna come?” Sami asked, approaching my desk at a little after three in the afternoon.
She couldn’t have asked at a better time. I was exhausted, my feet killing me, and I had a headache on the verge of exploding in my head. I needed a drink…badly.
I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Love to.”
She laughed, picking up on my exhaustion. “Connie working you to the bone today?”
“Oh, ya know, she only had me running around the city with my head chopped off for most of the day, but whatever,” I joked sarcastically even though it was true. At one point I had to pick up her dry cleaning down the street only to have to bring it across town to a hotel where she was attending a dinner tonight and then hurry back to the office with her lunch.
“Sounds like Connie,” she chuckled. “I’ll come get you before I leave,” she added, still sounding amused before walking away.
With an end in sight and somewhere to actually go after work besides home to hang around by myself, I hurried back to what I was working on, making sure to have everything done by five.
An hour later, I was startled by my personal cell phone buzzing in my purse. I looked around, making sure no one could see as I retrieved it. I wasn’t sure if there was a rule for using a personal cell phone during work and I didn’t want to give Connie any ammunition. My stomach just about hit the floor when I saw who the missed text was from.
Trevor.
I had been so busy the last couple days with work that I hadn’t really thought about Trevor or our break up. I had brushed it under the table, assuming that I wasn’t going to hear from him since it’d been three days now, but I was mistaken.
The anxiety was soaring my veins as I unlocked the screen. I even contemplated not looking, but how cowardly would that be? Probably even more than breaking up with him in a letter. I owed him this. After all I’d done to him, I at least owed him the respect of seeing what he had to say and responding.
Trevor: You didn’t leave your new address. I have all your shit still here.
My heart clenched at his obvious anger and hurt towards me. Trevor was never one to argue. He was reasonable, caring, and very loving, but when he was mad, you knew it. He was a big, athletic guy but the picture of a big teddy bear, especially when he was all gushy and madly in love with someone. And I trampled all over it. I took advantage of his love and faithfulness, and tore his heart to shreds…in a letter.
I was awful. Horrid. Selfish. I knew this, it wasn’t a secret, but I had to do it. I had to leave. I had dreams. Goals. Trevor loved Cortland. He loved the small town feel, he loved everyone knowing his name, greeting him as he walked down the street. That wasn’t me; that wasn’t what I pictured myself doing in five or ten years. This, living in a big city, in the middle of the hustle and bustle…that was me.
I had to leave. I would’ve regretted staying. Yes, maybe I could’ve left a different way; I could’ve sat down and explained it all, but I suck at goodbyes. I don’t like disappointing people, and I sure as hell don’t like seeing it written all over their faces. Having to be here right away was my excuse; it was the perfect excuse to up and leave with little warning and no time to explain. Pure and simple: I ran.
I sat there for a moment, thinking about how to respond. Do I try to explain? Tell him again why I had to leave? That it wasn’t him, it was me? Ugh. That’s the worst cliché break up line, but it was true; my leaving was for my selfish reasons only, it had nothing to do with him. Though, if everything was cookie cutter perfect, and I was exuberantly happy, I wouldn’t have had reason to leave, I would have wanted to stay…
“You look very lost in thought. Should I come back at a different time?” a deep masculine voice startled me.
I didn’t need to look up to see who it was—I’d remember that voice any day, but I did, and saw the gaze that made my insides come alive…elevator guy. “I…um, no. Just checking my phone,” I told him, fumbling with words at first, surprised to see him standing before me. I quickly recovered, becoming confident midsentence. “Can I help you with something?” I asked, slipping my phone into my purse and back into the drawer, keeping my eyes on him as I spoke.
He grinned. Of course he grinned. It was a part of his demeanor and almost defined his appearance. And what a magnificent grin it was. “I had to leave some documents for Connie to sign, and then I saw you.” His eyes travelled around the perimeter of my face, to my lips, then back to my eyes, rendering me speechless. He was checking me out again, which wasn’t anything crazy (many guys have), but with him it was different. He turned something on inside. Excitement. Pride…Lust.
I swallowed hard and inhaled through my nose, regaining my bearings before speaking. “I’m her assistant.”
“Yes, I see,” he pointed out nonchalantly. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other then.”
“Do you work for her, too?”
He laughed a gut-consumed one, sending chills up my spine. It was hot; deep and smooth, but heavy and full…sexy. Gathering himself, he answered, “I’m sure she would love to think that, but no. We’re partners. Actually, siblings.”
Uncontrollably, my eyes widened, shocked. I wasn’t expecting him to say that. At all. Siblings? I had a crush on my boss’s brother. Fantastic. If there wasn’t a warning flag hanging over his head before, there was now. And the clench in my stomach confirmed that. He was off limits, wrapped in caution tape; I could only look—touching or anything of that nature was not permitted.
“I’m sure you’ve already figured out who the nice one is, though,” he added with a wink.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I protested, dripping with sarcasm and maybe sounding just a pinch flirtatious.
His eyes narrowed and teeth bit his lower lip, studying me again. It was nerve-wracking and a bit uncomfortable. Normally, I would ask what he was doing or why he was staring at me like that, but I couldn’t. I was consumed.
He broke the silence first. “Do you have plans tonight?”
I almost answered no, but remembered I did. Thankfully, I did have plans. “I do, actually.”
“A date?”
“Nooo…” I said slowly, looking at him, puzzled, while playing with my necklace. The question was kind of blunt and a bit forward. I didn’t know the man from Adam yet he was already touching base with my personal life. It was kind of rude for him to ask, but for some reason felt kind of flattering too. “I’m going out with some people from work.”
His mouth opened slightly and he nodded his head like a light went off inside. “Ah yes, Tipsy Tuesday. How could I have forgotten?”
“Tipsy Tuesday?” I questioned. “I didn’t know it had a title.”
“Oh. Well, you’ve been misinformed. It’s a company tradition amongst all of you. Our employees have been doing it for years. Be warned, there’s Thirsty Thursday, too.”
“All of you?” I asked with a raised brow. I didn’t miss that affirmation.
He chuckled. “My apologies. I meant nothing by it.” He grinned, running his opened hand down his chest, smoothing down his tie. “Executive mistake.”
I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “Uh huh,” I said, trying to act tough and irritated. But who was I trying to kid, he was too gorgeous, and that grin…I couldn’t help but smile.
Acting relieved, he ran his hand across his fore
head. “Phew. That would have really blown it for me if you didn’t.”
Blown it for him? Mr. Executive Elevator Guy is interested? No! He can’t. We can’t. He’s my boss’s brother. My boss’s very good looking brother that happens to smell amazing, but nonetheless, he’s Connie’s brother and I’m pretty sure Connie might actually breathe fire. The last thing I want to do is piss her off.
Avoiding his grin and keeping things professional, I switched the topic. “Do you want me to give those to Connie for you?” I asked, glancing down at the manila folder in his hand, remembering he needed to have Connie sign some documents for him.
“Oh, uh, no,” he snapped out of his stare and answered, exposing the name tag clasped to his belt.
Miles Blackwell. Not Walters. Hmm, I wondered why they had different last names. Is Connie married? I didn’t remember seeing a wedding band on her finger. Maybe divorced? I definitely could understand that.
“I’ll just put them on her desk, thanks.”
With a tight grin, I nodded my head, and politely answered, “Okay.”
“Enjoy your evening, Ms. Reynolds,” he added before walking the few short feet to Connie’s door, going right in and placing the folder on her desk. I watched as he did; taking notice of his broad shoulders, smooth skin, and well-defined jaw. Although I couldn’t act upon my attraction, I could certainly admire; like an art gallery with portraits too expensive to buy or touch, everything still okay to look at.
When he left, he just simply smiled and continued down the hallway to the elevators. A heavy feeling filled my chest that he didn’t stop and chat some more, but that’s what needed to happen; friendly business etiquette. No matter how you saw it, though, it sucked. If I were to have a relationship with anyone here in New York, he would be the person I’d pick— professional, successful, and drop dead gorgeous. Just my luck, he had to be related to my boss. It didn’t seem to matter to him, but it did to me. I needed my job; I couldn’t afford to lose it.
At exactly five o’clock, Sami stood beside my desk, waiting for me to finish up my work for the day. Of course, Connie called at quarter of needing me to switch around a few things in her schedule for tomorrow. Sami said she probably did it on purpose. I wouldn’t put it past her, especially with the new knowledge that the executives were well aware of our Tuesday evening festivities.
“Alright. Done,” I told her, shutting down my computer and reaching for my purse in the drawer. As I touched the strap, I remembered I never responded to Trevor. Crap. My focus had shifted to Miles when I was about to reply.
“What’s wrong?” Sami asked, noticing my expression turning somber.
I hunched over with my elbow on my desk and head in my hand. “My ex…he texted me earlier, upset, and I forgot to reply. I feel like shit.”
“What does it matter? He’s your ex.”
If I didn’t feel like such an ass, I probably would have laughed. The way she said it was amusing, her attitude flippant. “I didn’t leave on the best terms,” I admitted and looked up at her, my face and heart aching with remorse. “I kind of just…left.”
“Like with no warning or anything?”
“Kinda…” I smirked. “I left a note.”
She laughed. “A note? How long were you guys together?”
“A little over three years,” I answered apprehensively, like a little kid afraid of telling the truth, my eyebrows scrunched and shoulders stiffly raised.
“Three years! And you broke up with him in a letter?”
Fuck. I should’ve just kept that to myself. I needed to make friends here, not knock them off one by one. “Yup,” I confirmed. Nothing like making myself look like a heartless bitch right out of the gate. “I know—lame, heartless, selfish…you name it, I know that’s what I am.”
“Well, I don’t know if you have to go to the extreme of calling yourself heartless, because you wouldn’t care if you really were. Selfish, on the other hand…” She left it at that, making me chuckle. She sighed, clapped her hands together, snapping me out of my pity party. “Alright, text that poor boy back and meet me down in lobby when you’re finished.”
I exhaled, relieved. She didn’t think any less of me after knowing my dirty little secret. Well, not enough to ditch me tonight anyway. Thank goodness. “K, I’ll be right down.” I smiled, opening the text back up to reply.
I decided not to get into any detail. He knew my reasoning, I put in the letter. There was no need to elaborate or to continue down a dead end road. Instead, I just answered his question and gave him my address.
Kayla: 1302 Broadway, Apt 12, Manhattan, New York 10006
I stared at the screen a moment before sending it. It would probably be the last text I ever sent to Trevor. We were officially over. Maybe I should delete his number for good measure. He was still such a good guy, though. I left so quickly that I left some things behind. He could’ve just thrown them away, but I won’t go back and forth with him. If he wanted to send them, then so be it, but as expected, he was sending the last of my belongings from our place because he was a good guy. With a deep breath and a hard swallow, I pressed send.
It was over.
Placing my cell back in my purse, I stood and took a cleansing breath. I was officially closing one door and opening the next. I wasn’t sure who or what that next door was, but my past was shut. Slipping the strap of my purse over my shoulder, I walked confidently to the elevators. I felt relieved; like a weight had been lifted off of me. I don’t know why just that simple text felt so refreshing, but it did. Maybe I’d been holding onto that relationship for too long; maybe this breakup was long overdue. Whatever the case may be, I knew I felt more alive…free. I had the job of a lifetime, I was living in the city I had always dreamt of living in, and now I had some semblance of closure with Trevor. Things were looking up, the wind was in my sails and I was sailing toward a new sunset.
***
Sami and I shared a taxi to the bar. Surprisingly, the one they go to every Tipsy Tuesday and Thirsty Thursday was just down the street from my apartment building. Very convenient. Though most bars and clubs in New York are very trendy and swanky, this one wasn’t. Thank goodness. After my day, I wasn’t up for swank—I wanted a beer and a shot, not a Cosmo.
McShane’s was warm and friendly, a hole-in-the-wall Irish Pub like the ones we went to in college. Maybe it was the name, I don’t know, but whatever is was, it certainly had a homey feel to it. I loved it.
Immediately upon entering, we heard people hollering Sami’s name, telling us to come join them at the bar. It was obvious that she knew a lot of people at ETV—I’d have to find out how long she’d been working there. Once we found a couple of open stools, I realized that I recognized at least some of the people; none that I had met, but definitely people I had seen around the building in the last couple of days. Sami was kind enough to introduce me to all of them.
“Can I get you a drink?” the bartender asked, coming up to me on the other side of the bar. I had been facing sideways, talking to one of the girls I had just met; Kelly, I think her name was.
He was very attractive, catching me off guard. He was the kind of guy I would’ve been all over not too long ago—tall, very muscular, short brown hair that matched his big brown eyes, and then there were his tattoos…they covered his arms, disappearing up into his fitted black tee. I cursed myself as I stared, wondering if every guy in New York was alluring. If so, I was going to have myself a problem, especially since my objective in coming here was career first, personal life second.
I didn’t notice the lapse in the time I spent checking him out until he snapped me out of it.
“Miss?” his deep voice rang out. “Can I get you something?”
“Uh, yeah, sorry,” I embarrassingly answered, pulling myself back together. These New York men were going to be the life of me. I mean the death of me. Crap. “I’ll just have a Mic Ultra, please,” I managed to order without stuttering.
He smiled before saying, “Y
ou got it,” and turning away to fetch it. It wasn’t until his back was facing me that I let out the breath I apparently had been holding.
“That’s Merrick.” Sami startled me, noticing my weak moment. “He’s our eye candy twice a week. Feel free to drool. We all do.”
“Does he have a girlfriend?” I found myself immediately asking.
She chuckled. “Nope. Well, not that we’re aware of. We don’t really know his story actually. The guys think he’s gay, but there’s no way.”
“Why?” I continued to speak without thinking. For some reason, my brain needed to know these answers and wasn’t letting me work them out in my head first.
“Because that would just ruin the dreams we have about him when we go home at night,” she joked, making us both laugh out loud just as he returned with my beer.
“How much do I owe ya?” I asked him, pulling out my wallet.
He put his hand up, stopping me. “First one is on the house. It’s kind of a welcoming thing we do.”
“Thanks,” I answered, smiling as I brought the bottle to my lips to take a swig. I saw him watching. I extended my hand after putting the bottle back down, realizing I never introduced myself. “Kayla,” I said. “I’m Kayla.”
“Merrick.” He shook my hand. It was firm, rugged, and big, making my hand look like a child’s in his. “Welcome to the crew.” He winked before gently resting my hand back down on the bar and moving away to help the other customers.
“Claimed another heart, did he?” Kelly said next to me. “Don’t worry. He has with us all. It’s inevitable; he’s one of the reasons why we always come back to this bar.”
Running From Forever Page 3