I folded the note and set it by the coffee maker. I put on my shoes and grabbed my coat and purse and headed out of the house. It was a few blocks before I saw a cab, since he lived in a residential area. I gave the cabbie my address and headed back into the city. On the drive, I stared out the window at the passing buildings, thinking about how dumb I’d been to get myself involved with a man that I knew I couldn’t have a future with. Rob wouldn’t have lasted long anyway, I told myself. He lived in a different world, and I wouldn’t have fit in with the richies I was sure he was surrounded by all of the time.
When the cabbie pulled up in front of the apartment complex, I sighed, wishing I could go back to the country and just hide away. I paid the driver and headed up to my apartment, dropping my things right inside of my door and locking myself in for the night. I dragged my feet back to my bedroom and fell into the covers, pulling my knees up and finally giving into the emotions that were so heavily beating at my chest. Tears immediately started to flow, and I just let them, needing the release.
I cried myself to sleep that night, wishing things had been different, wishing I hadn’t already fallen in love.
Chapter Sixteen
Two Weeks Later
Rob
My kitchen had a familiar sense of peace that I loved so much about my house. It was a place where I could feel like I was far from city life, far from the hustle and bustle that I hated so much. That morning, though, I was particularly grumpy. I stood at the counter preparing my coffee, grimacing at the city scape off in the distance out the window. The letter Tiffany had written me was still sitting where I had found it, in the middle of the island counter. I turned and stared down at it, getting that funky feeling in my stomach that I’d gotten the first time I had read it.
I reached for the letter, trying to will myself not to read it, not to torture myself anymore. It was a fight that I had every single morning and I lost every single morning, until today.
I stopped and tilted my head, looking at the handwriting. I couldn’t do this to myself anymore. I grabbed the paper and tossed it in the trash bin before grabbing my bag and heading out to the car waiting out front for me. My thought process was that if I got rid of the paper, then I would get rid of the memories, but I was dead wrong. The entire ride to work, I sat looking out the window, thinking about Tiffany. I replayed the last weeks over and over in my head, trying to figure out what I could have done differently. It was the same old song and dance, me feeling like I had done something wrong, trying to figure out how I could build a time machine to go back and change it.
I had thought it about it so much and lost so much sleep over the whole thing that it almost felt like it happened a million years ago. That weekend was like a distant memory, almost like a dream where I spent an amazing weekend with Tiffany. Even though it seemed so long ago, she was still on my mind pretty much all of the time. I was starting to drive myself crazy with the thoughts. I just wanted to fix it, or move, one or the other. I had struggled and fought my way through every single day since the last night that I had spent with her. It was a constant movie playing in my head, but I couldn’t fast forward, and I couldn’t stop the tape.
I was starting to think that I was losing my mind, barely eating, barely sleeping, just going through the motions of life like I had nothing else going for me. I was still the same guy that was a part owner in one of the biggest marketing firms in the world, but I felt like half of a man. That day that she left was one of the worst I had experienced in a long time.
I had woken up that morning, feeling fresh, renewed, ready to see her beautiful face, but she was gone. I checked the house, but she had taken everything of hers and just bolted. I had been so sound asleep from not getting rest that last week that I hadn’t had any clue when she actually left. The only remnants of her were in my mind and sitting on the kitchen counter for me to find when I shuffled downstairs.
That letter was burned into my brain; I could recite it without even looking. It had knocked me right off of my feet, and without any warning. I’d thought that when she came home with me, it was the start of something new and exciting, but instead, it was just the end.
I had a knot in my stomach that just wouldn’t go away. I could throw the letter in the trash, but I couldn’t throw my brain away. I didn’t know what to do, and I hadn’t been back to the bar she worked at since that night. Part of me was sad, but the other part of me was livid. I was angry at myself, not at her. I was disappointed that I’d trusted her, I’d trusted a woman that I barely knew and just jumped right into things without thinking.
I knew that we had different lives, and I knew about her goals for the future, but that didn’t deter me. Apparently, though, I was in that all by myself. She made it perfectly clear in her letter that she didn’t think that we were right for each other. She didn’t think that we would ever have a chance of working out.
The car pulled up in front of the office building and I got out, jogging to the front doors, since it was starting to drizzle. I got inside and shook the water off of me before walking over and climbing into the elevator. I leaned against the wall and continued my thoughts. I couldn’t figure out what Tiffany could possibly have wanted that I couldn’t offer her. I had the world at my fingertips and anything that she wanted could have been hers. I would have been able to help her make her dreams come true, dreams that didn’t seem that far off from my own.
I got out of the elevator in a bit of a huff, going straight to the lounge and pouring myself a cup of coffee. Rainy days always made me tired and apparently, they put me in a bad mood as well. I turned the corner and headed to my office, smiling falsely at my secretary.
“I just want to remind you,” she said, before I could walk in the office. “You have lunch today with Troy.”
“Oh, joy,” I sighed.
“You all right?” she asked.
“Fine,” I said. “It’s just the rain.”
She nodded her head and gave me a funny look as I walked in the office and shut the door behind me. If I could have cancelled the entire day, I would have, but I had too much to do. The morning was going by just how it had been going for the last two weeks, slow, and without much productivity at all. Most of the time, I spent the day staring out the window, either thinking about Tiffany, or not thinking at all. I was walking around like a damn zombie, unsure of what to even do with myself.
The new marketing program that we had released a couple of weeks back was doing fantastic. The other owners were ecstatic at the kind of clientele it was bringing through the door. I should have been excited, but I didn’t have any emotion or feeling toward it in the least. There was normal maintenance to be done on the project, updates that needed to be taken care of, and that fell on me. That, as you can imagine, was bad, since I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes.
I sighed and turned my chair toward the windows in the office, staring over at the building across the street. It was a typical office building with people milling around, going about their lives, talking to one another. I sat there staring into space, my mind wandering back and forth between memories and questions. I couldn’t help but wonder what Tiffany was doing at that moment. Was she thinking about me? Was she even upset that things between us had ended? Had she ever, even when we were at the bed and breakfast, thought that things could work between the two of us?
The thoughts were driving me absolutely crazy, and even more so, the idea of not having her in my life was making me insane. I didn’t know what to do to get her off of my mind. I had tried working out, going out to the bars, even flirting with other women, but I sucked at it, and I wasn’t interested in them in the least. I kept comparing every smile, every giggle, and every swish of their hair to Tiffany, which I knew was more than unhealthy. When none of that worked, I gave in for a couple of days and just simmered in my own shit.
I needed a release, something that would help me relax and come to terms with what was. I thought
about another trip, maybe somewhere warm and tropical like the Bahamas, or even somewhere I could explore, like Peru. I knew, though, with all of the work that was piling up on me, that there was no way that I could just up and leave on go on some adventure. I had promised that I would be there, that I would take care of things for the guys, and that was what I was determined to do, even if I went nuts in the meantime.
When lunchtime rolled around, I grudgingly left the building, dealing with the shitty rain and my own shitty attitude. I met Troy at his favorite Greek restaurant and sat quietly at the table, only half-listening to him as he talked. I knew I should be livelier, but I didn’t think I had it in me anymore.
“So, the marketing project was a huge success,” he said. “We were looking at numbers the other day and from the time it released until now, our client base has gone up ten percent. Ten freaking percent. That is goddamn huge, brother.”
“Mmhm,” I said, looking down at my plate.
“I’m also planning on getting man boobs put in over the weekend,” he said.
“Okay,” I replied, not listening.
“Rob,” he said, jolting me out of my trance.
“Huh?”
“Dude, what is going on with you?” he asked. “You just told me it was okay to get man boobs.”
“Uh, yeah, don’t do that, sorry.”
“I’ve known you a long time, man,” he said. “And I can tell when you’re not the same. What is going on with you?”
“Jesus,” I said, finally exploding. “I went away a month ago—you remember that trip out of town I took, for the weekend?—and I met this amazing girl who also happened to be the bartender I talked to for five years. We had this crazy connection and spent all this time together. When I got back, I couldn’t see her for a few days, but when I did, well, it was like fucking fireworks. She came home with me and spent the night. It was amazing. But then I woke up to a damn Dear John letter sitting on my kitchen counter. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.”
“Wow, man,” he said with a surprised look. “I didn’t know you had met someone. That’s fantastic.”
“It would be if she hadn’t run off into the sunset,” I groaned.
“Dude, you are overthinking this, and you’re making yourself miserable,” he said. “You have to make the grand gesture. The big one, the one that shows her that you really care about her. That no matter what her excuse is, you’re not giving up on the idea of the two of you being together. Don’t be stalkerish, of course, but make the big move. What’s the worst that can happen? She shuts you down for good? At least you can move on at that point, and who knows, you may find yourself actually happy for once.”
I sat there at the table, listening to him, thinking about what he was saying. He was right. If I was going to move forward, I had to do something about this. I couldn’t just sit around anymore feeling sorry for myself and wasting away in the dark recesses of my office. I needed to take life by the horns and show her that she couldn’t be any more wrong. We were supposed to be together. I knew it. I could feel it in my bones, and she needed to see I was dead serious about it.
Chapter Seventeen
Tiffany
I sat down on the couch and put my feet up on the table. I wasn’t used to being home during Happy Hour. My boss had just called me and told me I didn’t need to come in that night, that he would see me the following week. It felt weird having nothing to do, almost like I was doing something wrong by not being crazy busy with work, trying to save as much money as I could. It was the first time that he had ever called me out, and I thought it was really strange. Part of me wanted to protest, but the other part of me figured I could use an extra day to try to get the funk I was feeling out of my chest.
I was constantly walking around with this weight on me, and more than just the normal “I live in New York City,” weight, too. It was deep-seated, and sometimes I had a hard time even lifting my feet up to take another step forward.
The truth was, I still hadn’t gotten over Rob, not in the least. I was the one who’d let go of whatever we had. I was the one who had pumped the brakes and tried to think logically about everything. No matter whose fault it was, though, it didn’t seem to make things any easier on me. I still felt like I’d gotten dumped, and the world was a lot less exciting than it had been just a month before. I didn’t even care that it was raining; it felt like it fit my mood perfectly. I was completely not myself.
He hadn’t called or texted at all since that night, not that I really expected him to. I had dumped him, and not even in a nice way, but in a cowardly way. I had left a Dear John letter for him on his kitchen counter and dipped out before he could even realize that I was gone. I felt like I had led him on, but that seriously wasn’t what I had meant to do. I just hadn’t realized that I needed to end things until after we had slept together at his house in the city. Maybe that was what did it, or maybe it was just the reality of the whole thing. Either way, I felt like I had a broken heart.
No matter how many times he ran through my head, or how many moments I just wanted to call him, I knew that I had made the right choice, though. There was no way that we would have actually been a good couple. There was also no way that my goals for the future would have panned out by being in a relationship with a man like Rob, a man with billions of dollars, responsibilities and commitments in the city, and a life built around that.
I groaned, throwing my head back against the couch cushion, thinking about how miserable I felt on the inside. I really wanted to feel normal again, but I didn’t even really remember what normal felt like. The best thing I could do for myself was take a shower, turn on some chick flicks, and just dive into my sappy mood. Maybe by the time the sun came out again, I would start feeling better. I had nothing else to do that day, so I might as well make it a day of bumming around. I sighed and pulled myself from the couch, heading for the shower. Before I could get there, though, there was a knock on my door.
I groaned and dragged myself back across the apartment, figuring it was either someone with the wrong apartment number, or someone selling something. Either way, I was not in the mood. However, when I opened the door, I was surprised to see a man standing there in full chauffeur garb, taking off his hat and smiling at me.
“Miss Tiffany,” he said. “Your presence is requested. If you could follow me, I will take you to your suitor.”
“Uh,” I said, just staring at him.
“No need to pack anything,” he said. “Everything will be provided for you.”
“You do realize you’re a strange man in a big city, asking me to get into a car with you,” I pointed out.
“Right,” he chuckled. “He thought you would feel that way.”
“Who?” I asked, watching him pull out a note and hand it to me.
“Tiffany, it’s all right. Please trust me and just go along for the ride,” the note said. “XOXO, Rob.”
Holy crap, the letter was from Rob, and he wanted me to go wherever this guy wanted to take me! I shook my head and held up my finger, needing a moment. I was slightly thrown off by what was going on, but there was really no way for me to change that. I couldn’t deny, there was a part of me, a rather big one, that was excited to see Rob again. No matter the reason for the breakup, I really did miss him, which was crazy to me. Who missed someone they’d spent just a few days with?
A few minutes later, I sat in the back of the car as the chauffeur pulled out into traffic. I was a bit nervous, but my excitement to see where we were going was starting to take over. Knowing Rob, it was going to be somewhere that blew me away or impressed me in some way. If it were any other guy, I would figure he was taking me to dinner at a fancy restaurant or going to the theatre to take in some culture and get on my good side, but not Rob. He knew I wasn’t impressed with those things.
“You can sit back and relax,” the driver said, looking in the rear-view mirror. “We have a four-hour drive ahead of us. There are refreshments in the
mini bar in front of you, if you get thirsty.”
“Thank you,” I said, looking down at the bottle of whiskey.
I actually thought about it for a second, figuring whiskey would be a fantastic way to kill four hours. However, my less sporadic and wild side talked me out of it, figuring whatever was going to happen, I needed to keep my wits about me, and didn’t need to show up completely wasted. I didn’t protest the drive, figuring I had already agreed, so I might as well just sit back and enjoy myself.
I turned and watched out the window as we made our way through the city and out to the outskirts. I watched the suburbs slowly turn into a more country-like setting, I recognizing the route we were taking, and for good reason. I had taken it myself a dozen or more times since I lived in New York City. We passed a sign with the miles to the different towns written on them, and as they came and went, I started to realize that I knew exactly where we were going. We were headed back to the park where we’d first properly met. It was the scene of the crime, where everything had started to get crazy between the two of us. At least it was somewhere calming, and a place I felt comfortable.
I took in a deep breath and looked around the car, finding a nice fuzzy blanket folded in the seat next to me. He had really thought of everything, which I had to admit, was impressive. I grabbed the blanket and covered myself up, leaning my head against the window. I could feel my heart begin to pitter patter at the thought of what awaited me when we finally got to the park. I knew Rob was going to be there, but what else? What had he planned for us?
The drive was nice, and the further away from the city we got, the less it rained outside. By the time we were almost there, the sun was shining brightly overhead. The driver pulled into the bed and breakfast parking lot and helped me out of the car. Mary was standing on the porch, smiling, so I headed up and gave her a hug.
The Art of Seduction Page 9