The Office Rival: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Kat T. Masen

  Twelve

  The plan to visit my parents came to a screeching halt when Jason called to inform me that the apartment has sold. It happened late Sunday, and I missed his call while taking the longest nap that ever existed. Fatigue is a bitch. My new routine gym effort was proving difficult as was my ability to curb my coffee cravings. Tea is coffee’s bitch.

  Yes, I am that tired.

  I contemplate calling him back, but I’m weak and extremely aroused. The stupid what-to-expect-when-you’re-expecting books were spot on. My hormones have turned into a sorority of college boys all trying to get me to succumb to a wild orgy. I knew if I talked to Jason, I would invite him over one last time and take him on the kitchen bench, armed with a tub of maple syrup.

  Cravings are also a bitch.

  But texting can only get you so far, so I swallow my pride, hormones, and all the other crap and call him.

  “Long time no speak,” he greets warmly.

  My body involuntarily sinks into my bed at the sound of his voice. I miss him, I miss his voice. I can almost smell him over the phone.

  “So, it’s sold? I’ll sure miss this place.”

  “The buyers are a young couple. Nice enough. Anyway, they want to move in next month.”

  Add more stress to my growing ball of stress twine. “That’s quick. I’m half packed. I guess it shouldn’t be a problem,” I respond calmly.

  There is an awkward silence, and I hear a shuffle over the phone. “So how have you been?”

  “Good,” I reply. “And you?”

  “Yeah, good. I’m seeing someone,” he admits quietly.

  “I figured. You’re something special, and it was only a matter of time.” I smile into the receiver.

  He laughs, and it’s familiar and comforting. “And you?”

  I had thought about telling him about the baby but decided against it. It doesn’t matter anyway. He has moved on. Sooner or later, he will find out, but for now, I’m downright exhausted and can’t find the energy to have that long-winded conversation which will probably end up with me in tears.

  “No, still single. Just working and stuff.”

  We talk for another hour about work, family, and life. It’s like visiting an old friend, and during the conversation, it becomes even clearer to me we made the right decision. He hasn’t changed one bit, but that’s Jason. Happy to live in the same bubble, just screwing someone else instead of me.

  In my mad rush to find somewhere to live, Vicky comes to my rescue. She has a friend living not too far away who has a room available. Her name is Kate, and she’s renting the apartment from a friend. I call her first thing on Monday and have a long chat about the room and apartment. She’s super nice, and even with her British accent, I sometimes have no clue what she’s saying.

  We agree to meet at her apartment later in the afternoon so she can show me around.

  “So that’s the kitchen, and just over on the right will be your room.”

  Kate opens the door to a sunlit room with a view of a small park. It’s furnished with a double bed and dark wooden dresser that match the floors. There’s a walk-in closet that’s the perfect size to fit all my clothes, not that I have many now since I morphed into a hippopotamus.

  “It’s gorgeous. But I wouldn’t be here for long, Kate. With the baby and all, I’ll need to find my own place.”

  “That’s totally fine. The room’s always been vacant. The only time it gets used is when my friends from L.A. fly over, but even then, the lot of them prefer to stay at the Waldorf, so they can have a gander at the cute bellhops.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what gander means, but I laughed anyway because the bellhops are indeed cute.

  We sit in the kitchen and talk for a bit, getting to know each other. Kate is from Manchester and moved here permanently a few years back. She is head of a division in her company and is completely career-obsessed, which she blames for her lack of relationships.

  “So, no boyfriend?” I grin, taking a sip of my tea.

  “Uh… I wouldn’t call it that. It’s complicated.”

  “It could be worse… look at me.”

  Kate states she’s dying to know my story, and given that we’re roommates now, I tell her the truth. All of it, holding nothing back.

  “Wow! All my friends are married with kids or getting married, except for Vicky. Vicky is a hoot. Did she tell you about our weekend in Atlantic City?”

  “That was you?” I laugh.

  I remember the story vividly. Vicky and a friend had met these guys at the craps table, and they weren’t shy about letting them know they wanted to spoil them for the whole weekend. They were taken to the fanciest restaurants and showered with lavish gifts. Then when it came time for the intimate dinner in the hotel room, Vicky and Kate both did a runner and checked into another hotel. They even bought wigs in case they ran into them.

  When they got to the airport, the men happened to be there and were super pissed. The only thing that saved Vicky and Kate was that the airport security detained the men because of the large amount of cash they were carrying. The girls got on their flight, lucky to get away from them.

  “That was me, all right. It was totally hilarious. No partying for you, though. So, if you don’t mind me asking, where’s baby daddy now?”

  “Around, somewhere. As I said, we don’t really communicate well.”

  “So, is he still getting married? What kinda bird would wanna get hitched after hearing that news?”

  “The kinda bird who must really love him, I guess.”

  Kate pulls the keys out of her purse and removes a spare from the key ring. “Here you go. Feel free to move your stuff in whenever. I’ll be working late most nights this week because my boss is in town. Maybe you can join us for dinner one night?”

  “Sure.” I smile back in return.

  With that problem sorted, I focus on packing up my apartment and tying up some loose ends at work before I leave to visit my folks. Haden booked a flight the day after mine and will be staying only for the weekend. He tried to book a motel, but my mother insisted he could sleep in the guestroom. He thought it was very nice of her, but deep down, I knew it was her way of watching him and asking a thousand questions. She reminds me every day that he’s the father, and this is who my child will look up to.

  Great, my child will wrestle boars.

  The day before I’m scheduled to leave, I am met by an unusual surprise. As I’m just about to grab a quick lunch, I look up and see Eloise standing at my cubicle. Wearing a pale pink knitted top and a gray pencil skirt, she stands proudly in her high patent pumps. Her long blonde hair is parted to one side, and even I have to admit, she is drop-dead gorgeous.

  “Hi, Presley. I don’t mean to intrude. I was hoping you were free for lunch?”

  Keeping my expression fixed, I smile forcefully and nod my head in agreeance. I wondered if this had been Haden’s idea—get the mother of his child and future wife to bond in order to make his role in all of this easier. I would give her an hour, at most. Then find some pregnant excuse to leave.

  We head to some ‘healthy living’ restaurant not too far from the office. Salads aren’t really on my agenda, considering all I can think about is a big fat juicy hamburger and a bowl of syrup on the side. Nevertheless, I order a warm chicken salad. Eloise orders a soup that looks like mushed lawn.

  “Haden told me everything,” she opens up. “It was quite a shock, and definitely took me some time to take it all in.”

  I remain quiet, not sure where she’s going with this.

  “I love Haden. Meeting him was like fate, you know? Everything was just perfect, and he’s just so… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.”

  Maybe she can’t explain it, but it is written all over her face—that constant glow of happiness, the eyes dancing in delight, the smile that cannot be erased. She’s in love, and here I sit without a man in my life and the very real possibility I will never find love because I’ll be a single moth
er.

  “We want to help you, both Haden and me. I know he has difficulty showing it, but he’s a kind person, Presley. You just have to be patient with him,” she says softly.

  “Eloise, despite what happened, I don’t know him aside from my dealings with him in our office. You have to understand that I need to be able to trust both of you with my child.”

  “But it’s Haden’s child, too,” she reminds me.

  “Yes,” I admit. “But I’m carrying this baby. I’m the primary parent.”

  “So that’s another thing. We’d like to talk about putting together a schedule. You know, what days and weekends we can have the baby.”

  My warm chicken salad might as well have been a bowl of jagged-edged rocks. Swallowing a mouthful, the sharp edges painfully slide down along with my overwhelming desire to tell them to fuck off. The baby is still inside me, and we’re planning out schedules?

  She reminds me of myself, and maybe if she weren’t his fiancée, I would think this is a good idea, especially since I plan everything out and even mentioned this to him. But I’m a hormonal monster. This baby is mine, and there is no chance in hell they will steal this baby away from me.

  “While your suggestions are appreciated, I’d like to discuss all this with Haden,” I say in my polite yet gritty voice.

  “I’m sorry.” She places her hand on mine, making me feel very uncomfortable. “This weekend will be great for both of you. Give you time to talk about plans and schedules.”

  “You won’t be joining us?” I ask, pretending to play dumb.

  “No, I have a dress fitting, plus my bachelorette night.” She smiles playfully.

  The looming wedding is a dark gray cloud hovering over me. None of it made sense, but it’s also none of my business. Haden obviously had his reasons for proposing marriage and nothing should stop him marrying someone he loves. But despite my ignorance of his upcoming nuptials, I’d be a fool to think it didn’t affect me. I found myself caring one minute, then not caring the next.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you were getting married so soon.”

  “Still six months away, but my schedule is so busy, and my best friend is getting married in two months, so it’s the only free weekend I have.”

  I look at my watch, praying the time is up, and thank my lucky stars it is.

  “Listen, I have to head back to work. It was really nice chatting with you, Eloise.”

  She places her hand on mine again, and this time I wait with patience. “No, thank you, Presley. Haden told me how nice you were and that we’d get along.”

  “I highly doubt that.” I chuckle while shaking my head. “He doesn’t think very highly of me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” She pulls back almost immediately, her perfectly-shaped brows furrowing in concern. “When we met in London, he never stopped talking about you. Sure, it was work-related, but it was your name that I heard and with admiration.”

  “Honestly, Eloise, you must be mistaken. Maybe he was talking about Dee. Haden and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

  “I know what I heard. Frankly, I thought you guys had dated by the way he spoke about you. I was even jealous for a while.” With a disturbingly fake laugh, she continues, “Anyway, timing was perfect for us. He met me, and look, we’re getting married.”

  Is this true? Shell-shocked by her comment, I pass it off as nothing, but my brain is going into overdrive.

  “Anyway, thanks for lunch, Eloise.”

  Back in the office, I stare at my screen in a daze. So much of what she told me doesn’t add up. Obviously, she knows Haden better than I do. Actually, I don’t know him at all, yet the conversation on the way he talked about me fills me with a desire to find out more.

  So what if he said nice things? It doesn’t mean anything.

  Remember, he said I meant nothing to him.

  Those were his exact words to Marcus.

  “Hey.” Haden is leaning against my partition, and the smell of his aftershave hits me. God, he smells so good. And why is that deep burgundy shirt accentuating his perfectly-toned forearms.

  “Oh, hey.”

  “Sorry I didn’t warn you about lunch. It was kind of sprung on me after many arguments.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry if it caused arguments.”

  “So, you’re leaving tomorrow?” He swiftly changes the subject.

  “Yeah, an early morning flight. So, I’ll pick you up Saturday morning from the airport?”

  He appears calm, but again that stare leaves me breathless. I need to remember he is nothing but the sperm donor in this equation. These stupid thoughts and feelings, they need to be buried along with my libido.

  “I’ve hired a car. I’ll just meet you at your parents’ in the morning,” he responds quietly. “I’ve got a meeting all afternoon, so I’ll see you then?”

  “Right.”

  He begins to walk away, and I let out the huge breath I’d been holding until he turns around, forcing me to suck it back in.

  “And, Presley…” Our eyes meet, and something catches me off guard, a force or pull making my stomach flutter or perhaps that was the baby. Whatever it is, I need to ignore it, or I’ll be in trouble. It’s a slippery slope once this shit starts.

  With a deep penetrating stare, his eyes narrow and his lips twitch nervously. “Have a safe flight.”

  Thirteen

  The second my feet land on my parents’ front porch, it’s a bittersweet moment. Having grown up in this house as a child, I am now standing here as a grown woman with child. Yeah, let’s blame the hormones again, but it is definitely worth a good cry.

  I have nothing but sweet memories of this house. The pale-yellow paint and white shutters have remained the same throughout the years. The garden is covered in roses and carnations, my mom’s favorite, of course. The rockers are sitting on the porch, the same ones that belonged to my gramps and grammy. Carved in some fancy wood, they’ve been passed down through the generations. The warm air touches my skin, and just when I’m about to shed some more tears, my dad comes out carrying what looks like roadkill.

  “Here’s my little poodle!”

  I cringe at the nickname, stepping forward and walking into his arms. His overbearing hug and scent of wooden musk engulf me, and I burst into tears, once again.

  “I missed you, Dad,” I babble like a baby through my tears.

  “Aww, you got those damn hormones your mother did,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

  He lets go and takes a good look at me. I’m wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a shirt that has ‘Turkey Baking’ written on it. My belly is popping out. In fact, over the past week, it’s grown tremendously and can no longer be concealed no matter what I wear.

  “You’re looking beautiful, poodle. You got that glow to you.”

  “Step away, George, and let me see my daughter.”

  My mom is standing behind him. Much to my surprise, she is wearing a fluorescent pink yoga outfit. She hasn’t changed much since I saw her last with her bangs still cut like she’s rocking an ‘80s video clip, and it wouldn’t hurt her to wear a bra once in a while. Nevertheless on numerous occasions, I’ve been told we looked like sisters. Apparently, she has a youthful glow, or perhaps I look like an old soul. Let’s stick to the youthful glow story to boost my ego.

  “Come here, give me a hug.” She smiles.

  I step forward and embrace her. Leaning my head on her shoulder, I’m happy to admit that it’s good to come home. What I need is some quality time with my family. That, and to get ridiculously spoiled.

  “George, take her bags up to her room. Honey, you have to eat something. It’s not about you anymore. I know you city girls are into all these fad diets, but if you don’t eat and gain nutrients, the baby could be born with God knows what.”

  “Mom, I’ve been eating. And would it kill you to wear a bra?”

  “I read an article about how bras can increase your risk of breast cancer.
Your dad seems to enjoy it.”

  I wince at the mental image, shaking my head with disgust. “Oh my God! You didn’t just say that.”

  As I walk through the house, I see that nothing has changed apart from a ridiculous-looking exercise thingamajig in the living room. Hanging on the walls are several photographs of Gemma and me throughout our childhood. I take a moment to stand in the hallway and look at the pictures, so much fun and laughter hanging on this one wall. I rest my hands on my stomach and hope that one day my child will get to experience everything I did. That will most likely require me finding a husband and having more children. Do not have this conversation with yourself now, you sadistic fool.

  There is a picture of Jason and me sitting in a small frame amongst the others. I remember the day clearly—it was the first summer I brought him here to meet my family. We’re sitting in a boat, him behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist. Laughing out loud, I recall just afterward when we both fell into the lake accidentally. It’s a great memory, and so as not to get too caught up in nostalgia, I go in search of my mom.

  I settle into the kitchen as my mom prepares lunch for us. As we all sit to enjoy the meal, my mom takes this opportunity to lecture me on everything I should have done, should be doing, and basically how I should raise this kid until he or she is in college. Only my mom could have an entire conversation with herself while I devour the homemade pie in front of me. My dad polishes off three beers as she rambles on. By the end, we both stare at her until she realizes she’s been talking to herself.

  “Honestly, the two of you are like peas in a pod. Can’t get anyone to listen in this household,” she rattles off, moving toward the sink as she starts to wash up.

  My dad shrugs his shoulders and heads out the back door with his fishing hat on.

  Even at the sink, my mom continues to talk a mile a minute. I take my phone out of my pocket looking for some social media relief when I see a text on the front screen.

  Haden: Hope you got there safe. I’ve got my black belt packed.