by J. Dorothy
“Cam wants to meet, to talk over the details of your contract. Said he’d call you tomorrow,” Dad mentions casually as he gets up and moves to the fridge.
My heartbeat escalates again. Within the space of two seconds everything just got a whole lot harder.
Get a grip Bailey Ryan. You’ll just have to dig out the largest pair of big girl pants you can find.
THiRTeeN
______________________________________
So I’ve scheduled an appointment with Dr Phi, aka, Gerry for tonight. She’s just text back saying she’s all mine for the evening. Which is good thing because this time it might take all evening. It’s getting harder, but it’s actually been helping. Like the shackles of the past two years are slowly loosening.
Right now, my legs are jiggling again. I’m sitting outside the new office buildings in town. They knocked the old ones down for the movie. I think the production company paid the bill, and the council have taken up the second floor, but the first floor is a bit of a mystery. Cam text to meet him here at ten and it’s a quarter to. I’m never usually early, but I couldn’t wait any longer, I already changed outfits five times. The closet in my room looks like a tsunami hit it full throttle. I couldn’t decide between business attire or casual elegance. In the aftermath, I don’t think I achieved either. More like shabby, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I press my hands over my pink, knee length, skirt, matched or unmatched with a long sleeved purple sweater and white scarf, topped off with black stockings and black pumps. I check my watch wondering if I could still make it home to change and I'm about to leap toward dad's truck, when Cam turns the corner.
Damn it!
He’s reading a text on his cell and carrying a small white paper bag, must be his late breakfast. He hasn’t seen me, which gives me five seconds to check him out. A luxury I haven’t indulged in yet, and I make sure to enjoy my time. He looks unbelievable and I want to kick myself again and again for leaving him.
Freshly shaven, his gorgeous brown locks look like they’ve had a trim, and the blue suit he’s wearing takes my breath away. I’ve never seen him dressed like this. I mean there was prom, but he only wore a jacket over his jeans and shirt. That was then. And this is now. The suit looks expensive, he doesn’t have a tie on, but he pulls the business look off famously. I wonder why he’s all dressed up, I can’t be that important to warrant a suit. My cheeks flush and I actually fan myself. Holy cow, if I’m this worked up from the mere sight of him, I’m going to be in a whole world of trouble talking to him.
I really wish I’d changed into something more appropriate. I feel like a complete idiot and I’m pretty sure I look like one. I contemplate walking away, when Cam looks up and straight at me. He nods, and my legs start shaking more. I fidget with my sleeves and wait for him to approach. He picks up his pace and puts his cell away, his eyes on me the whole time. God, those baby blues are beautiful.
“Hey,” he says, and I want to kiss him so bad. I bite my willing lips and stand up.
“Hi,” I squeak out, just showing how much more of an idiot I can be. I can’t believe I’m this nervous around Cam. I was never nervous around him. He was always my comfortable place. My home. Now it’s all so weird and so wrong.
“Um … we should go in,” he says and gestures for me to follow him as he holds the large glass door open.
I frown. Unsure why we’re meeting here. Then I wonder if this is where Dreik works and we’re going to get all the paperwork and files sorted. I’ve never met Dreik before, only heard Dad swear whenever he mentions him. This could get tricky. I follow Cam as he strides down the corridor of the first floor, there are doors every few paces and a few people hurry past, looking busy, arms laden with folders or briefcases. I guess there is a business life in the town, amazing what you miss when you’re not looking.
We arrive at the last door on the left and I stop and stare at the gold writing on the door. Ryan & Graham Building Services. Wow, that packs a punch when I see Cam and my Dad’s names side by side. I immediately imagine mine and Cam’s name side by side. Once a probable reality now it’s more like a bad ending to a twisted fairy tale.
He allows me to pause then opens the door and once again gestures for me to go in. It’s small, well, compared to the offices in Chicago, they were three times this size. But I instantly fall in love with it. There is a large oak desk which sits next to the window looking onto the local park and gardens. There are a couple of filing cabinets and shelves filled with black folders. A pile of paperwork covers most of the desk and a state of the art computer with seventeen inch screen sits to the side. The walls are filled with photographs of various houses and renovated kitchens. I stop and marvel at the work Cam and Dad have been doing. Wow, business really has taken off for them in the past two years. I never realized how well Dad had been doing. I guess without me around he put his soul into his work. The love he has for it really shows and I wonder who the photographer is.
Cam takes off his jacket and sits behind the desk. “Take a seat, Bailey.”
I cringe. It’s like a statement, Bailey the girl who isn’t mine any more. Bailey, the girl who left and broke my heart.
I really, really, hate my name right now.
I take a seat and fidget some more. Cam puts the white bag on the desk and switches on the computer. “I have your contract ready. I just need to print it so you can sign it.”
He’s looking at the blank computer screen and not at me.
“Um … okay, thanks ... I mean thanks ... for this Cam ... it means a lot to my dad and ... to me.” I splutter out, in almost incoherent babble, nearly choking on those last two words.
Cam still doesn’t look at me, and moves the mouse around. “Yeah, well we’re in a bind and you coming home solved that for us. I know your Dad is really happy to take you on. So it was a no brainer really.”
Right. My thumping heart just picked up the pace. He’s obviously doing this for Dad and not for me.
He’s clicking the mouse, his eyes firmly set on the screen and he’s gone quiet. I look around the office, my legs are jiggling again. I don’t want to look at him anymore. I just want to get this over and done with, the longer I wait here with this big desk between us, the more it hurts. I’m not sure I can do this, but then I know Dad will be disappointed if I run away again.
I’m done with that tactic. Got me on the fast road to nowhere last time.
So I stay and jiggle and fidget. Then ‘Hurts So Good’ plays as a ringtone and I jolt at the sudden intrusion of the noise. Cam mutters under his breath and quickly reaches for his cell out of his jacket pocket. “What?” he says in a less than friendly way.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard Cam be so rude to anyone. Well, except me. That last phone call when we were ending it was the worst. He looks pissed at whatever the other person is saying.
“Yeah, just hang on.” He sighs and gets up, then glances at me. “I um … will be back in a minute.” He leaves quickly, shutting the door tight behind him.
I blow out a big breath. Glad for the break in tension. All my muscles are wound so tight, if you could tap into it I’d probably energize a wind-up toy for the next few days. Now with him gone, I look around more leisurely, taking it all in. The first thing that catches my eye is a little golden hammer in a glass case sitting on the window ledge. Cute. I read the inscription.
Huge congratulations. Smash it out of the park! Love you Cam, Mom.
I smile, knowing how much she adores her son. A faint smell of baking drifts from the paper bag on the desk, and I wonder why Cam hasn’t touched it yet. He has the biggest sweet tooth. Loves any kind of desert, and sugary snacks any time of the day.
I reach across and take a quick peek inside. It’s full of home baked chocolate cookies. I think how nice his mom is, to pack him a morning snack. Or maybe he told her he was meeting me, and she gave it to him to boost his patience. I close the bag, not enjoying that thought. I’m about to put it back when I see a
little drawn love heart with writing underneath.
Sweet treats for my Sweet Cheeks. Love J. xx
O.M.G. I think I just threw up a little, and I swallow the bitter taste, nearly gagging on it.
I don’t have time to recover though, as Cam jostles the door handle and I rush to put the bag back in place and sit down.
Now my blood is boiling. My fists clenched tight. First, she’s making him lunch, now chocolate cookies. Who made her Mrs Bakery 2013? Mrs Winters would have a fit. I have the sudden urge to release the golden hammer and smash her cookies into a zillion pieces. I’m fantasising about this as Cam sits back down.
Since I'm so agitated, I throw out a question I’ve had since I saw him this morning. “What’s with the suit, Cam?”
Crap! That came out all kinds of wrong. I sound like I’m criticising him. And now he’s looking at me like I’ve got two heads.
He continues to glare at me, before answering. “I’m meeting with a couple of reps from a Chicago firm, they approached us for a major building contract in the area.”
“Oh, right.”
Cam doesn’t offer any other information, and picks up a pencil and taps it on the desk. I know he’s annoyed with me. My mom might not have been able to read my dad, but I can usually read Cam. Even now. Well, at least that hasn’t changed. He drops the pencil, leans forward and bangs a few more keys on the computer, then sits back tapping his fingers watching the screen. How long does it take to print a contract for goodness sake? This is torture. If I didn't know better, I’d say Cam's enjoying making me squirm. They say revenge is sweet and I'm reminded of the sweet cheeks comments once more, making my blood boil again.
Finally the document spits out, and thanks to the laser printer it’s quick. Cam shuffles the papers into order and hands them to me. But he doesn't utter one word. Nothing.
“Um … thanks,” I say, for the sake of saying something. I do have my big girlie pants on today. I can be a grown up, even if he can't.
He stands and starts to button up his jacket. “Stay here, and read it if you want. Your Dad will be here soon, if you have any questions.”
Just like that, he’s leaving. Fantastic. I guess he wants all our communication to go through Dad, from here on in.
I clench my hands in my lap, seething inside. Well fine, that works for me buddy.
Cam checks his cell and adjusts his collar, suddenly looking a bit nervous. He really is adorable. I forget all my anger in an instant and I want it to tell him how nice he looks, to give him a confidence boost for the meeting he’s about to have. Then with a slam to my heart, I realize that isn't my job anymore. His cell dings, and he smiles wide at the text he’s getting. Crap, I bet it’s Miss Sweet Cheeks, herself. He doesn’t look at me and heads for the door.
Ooohhh, my boiling blood skyrockets.
I don’t think. I just leap across the desk and snatch the bag of cookies. And no, I don’t smash them, though the thought crosses my mind for the hundredth time, instead I throw them at him, and he turns and catches the bag inches from the floor.
“Don’t forget these … Sweet Cheeks,” I hiss out with a load of venom.
Cam opens his mouth as if surprised, then starts, “What the hell … these …”
But he doesn’t finish, because my cell rings, and I turn away from him to take it out of my purse and smile even wider than he did. It’s Bennett, and I want to give him a big kiss for the best timing ever. I suppress the urge to hug my cell, then the office door slams shut. Cam’s gone and I’m jolted out of my cell loving dream.
What the hell, indeed!
FouRTeeN
______________________________________
“It was awful.”
I’m sitting on my bed telling Gerry about my meeting with Cam.
“He hates me.”
Gerry folds her arms. “Bales, can you really blame him. I mean he was a complete mess when you left.”
No, I can’t blame him, and yes I get it, but …
“It still sucks. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work with him.”
“Your Dad's counting on you. He helped Cam get back on his feet, and now he wants to help you. I think Cam gets that, and that’s why he’s okay with it.”
Frustratingly she does make sense. Damn her. I shrug. “I guess.”
“Trust me, it’ll get less awkward. Who knows you might even go back to being friends. I mean you always were in each other’s pockets, even before you started dating.”
I shake my head. “That won’t ever happen. I'll never stop loving him, and yeah I want him to be happy, but I can’t be friends with him, not when he’s with someone else.”
Gerry nods. She gets it. She looks at me and gives me a small smile. “Fair enough. I still can’t believe he’s hooked up with Jennifer Jaimeson. She’s such a bitch.”
“Yeah, I know." I sigh and twist my lips. "Must be the cookies.”
Gerry lets out a big belly laugh, and I can't help but join in. Soon we're rolling around laughing so hard my stomach aches. It feels so good.
I finally stop and Gerry sits up again, both of us wiping the tears from our eyes.
“So, I know you’re here for me and my sorry life, but what about you. What’s the gist physicist?”
Gerry grins, and it’s a grin I haven’t seen for a long time. In fact the last time I saw that grin was when Russ Wilson asked her out. They ended up having a love affair for a few weeks, and Gerry had that silly grin on her face every day until it ended.
“Nothing. Nothing new.”
“Rubbish. Who is it?”
“No-one. I’m all about work these days, forever the professional business woman.”
“Yeah, right. You love working in that shop, like you love the dentist.”
Gerry screws up her nose. She hates even the mere mention of the word dentist. She’s lucky she’s got perfect teeth and hasn’t had to visit often. She bats her eyelids in a mocking gesture. “I do love it. I love getting up early and listening to whining customers all day, oh and answering stupid prank calls, writing out invoices, and checking stores. It’s a full on blast!”
I shake my head. “You’re diverting. Now I know something’s up.”
She doesn’t respond, just picks at the loose threads on my quilted bedcover. I give her a shove and she shoves me back.
“Spill,” I command.
She folds her arms and glares at me. “This is supposed to be about you, remember. I’m not doing my job properly if the therapy turns tables.”
“Gerry, you do know this is pretend, right.” I smile and she punches my shoulder again.
“You’re such a pain in the ass.”
Then it clicks. The only other person who calls me that, and gets away with it, is Bennett.
I clap my hands together. “Oh, so great. So, so, great.”
“Great? What’s great you, big lunatic?” She immediately clamps her hand over her mouth, and then slowly lowers it, saying, “Now I’m really going to get fired.” She grins at my frown. “Calling you a lunatic, must be against all kinds of Dr Phil laws.
I laugh. “You are so busted, right now. Bennett. It’s Bennett isn’t it? Bennett. Bennett. Bennett.”
Gerry tries to hold it in, but she’s cracking. I keep saying his name until she slaps me. “Alright. Now shut up. I’ll tell you when therapy's over. But you first.”
I pout and fold my arms. Talking about her and Bennett is so much more interesting and fun. But she has that death stare, like she won’t give in, and she’s so much better at it than me.
I lean back against the wall and let out a breath. “Okay, let’s get it over with. At least I have incentive tonight.”
Gerry grins and I begin …
Eight months ago ...
My absolute favorite part of the day is coming home and pushing that button. What a luxury. I never thought of myself as a TV addict, until I didn’t have the option not to be one. It’s like a gaping hole in my existence has been filled. Like
a friend waiting for me to walk through the door. Sad, I know. But that’s what living alone does. Some people revel in it. Me, not so much. Bennett spends a heap of time here, but he can’t be here all the time, so TV fills the void.
Tonight there’s a marathon of Big Bang and I can’t wait. I have my snacks all worked out. The biggest bag of m&m’s, Cam and my favorite, and a huge bag of pretzels, with a gallon of coke to wash it all down. Talk about a sugar high. I’ll be bouncing off the walls tomorrow. But it’s for a special occasion. It’s my birthday today. Number twenty two. I got off working at the bar tonight, with a lame excuse about finishing an assignment. Which isn’t actually a lie, but I’ll leave off the study and indulge tonight. Gerry and Dad text today, which was nice. Dad said my check’s in the mail with my birthday card. I have my eye on this cute little dining room table and chairs in a thrift shop in the city. I’m hoping he sent me enough to buy that. The space in this apartment is about three times the size of the other one, and it looks barren with the measly furniture I moved across. The addition of a dining suite should fill up the space nicely.
I haven’t told anyone else it’s my birthday. Not even Bennett. Don’t know why. Feels kind of weird, waltzing around saying, Hey guys, guess who’s a birthday girl. Gag, not my scene at all. Bennett is busy anyway. Some gala event his Dad said he had to attend. He wanted to drag me along as his date, I declined nicely, with a: Hell no!
I check the clock only ten minutes to go. I race to change into my pajama pants, singlet top and fluffy pink socks. Then I get all the bowls ready with all my snacks and set them up next to a large, goblet like, glass of coke. Ah bliss. Or so I think, when there’s a knock at my door. Crap, who could it be? I don’t know anyone around here, only Mrs Feldon, and she keeps a polite distance. I grumble a few expletives as I rush to the bedroom and grab my coat. I don’t own a dressing gown, but don’t want to answer the door in my pajamas. I wish at times like this I had one of those little peep holes.