Do Not Respond

by M R Field

  “Pretty good, actually. I have the best tour guides.” Odette waves at him before I turn the phone to focus solely on Anja. A muffled “fuck” is heard before his throat clears.

  “Oh, hey … Anja. How’re you doing?”

  “Great, actually.” She takes a sip of her drink, looking him up and down. “You seem to be looking great, too.” For an added touch, she winks, and even that causes a muttered groan.

  “That’s great, really gr-great,” he stammers. “Well, I better go and wee, I mean weed the garden for mum. Was great chatting to you.”

  “Anytime,” she returns, and we burst out laughing. I turn the screen for all of us to watch him flee the room, while the other screen shakes from Judy’s laughter.

  “That’ll teach him to ignore my calls,” Judy remarks, and we burst out laughing again.

  “He’s delicious.” Anja smirks, and I nudge her with my shoulder.

  “He’s normally the opposite of that,” I say.

  “I’d love to photograph him,” she says wistfully. “He has a great jawline.”

  “He’s not the best cook, but I’m working on that,” Judy throws in, and my chest fills with warmth.

  “You do that, Judy. Raising those boys right.” I wink, and her face softens.

  “Call my son, honey. He misses you.” My eyes strain against the sudden tears, so all I can do is nod.

  “Okay, Judes. We’ll catch ya later!” Odette sings, and we all wave at the screen and say our farewells. Odette puts her phone away and gets back to her lunch.

  “Shopping soon, then pizza and a two-four,” Anja chirps in, and I look at her. “Beer,” she explains.

  “Sounds great,” Odette says. “Hopefully, I won’t have any work dramas so I can join you.”

  “I will personally tell my brother you are occupied,” Anja says.

  “Nice try, but you know how he gets.” Odette frowns, and I lift my spoon to finish my soup. “Moody bosses are the worst.”

  “I miss mine,” I whisper.

  ***

  My feet ache, and my back is sore. Holy hell, Anja can shop like a powerhouse. The beer feels cold in my fingers, and I’m tempted to run it along the arch of my foot where I ache the most. My head spins a little from drinking, leaving me with a warm buzz. Thank God, we’re back at their apartment.

  “I don’t think we’re right for each other,” I slur, raising the beer to my lips.

  “Now I’ve heard it all,” Odette grumbles.

  “No, I mean it.” I shift to face Odette, who’s seated beside me, thumbing through her emails. “Wouldn’t he have called? He bugged me daily while I was home. He hasn’t contacted me once since I got here. That’s not…,” I hiccup, “…love.”

  “I swear to God, Letty.…” Odette’s face turns and gets closer to mine.

  “Hey, you’re blurry. Back up,” I snap. She shifts in her seat, bending her knee to lean on it to face me.

  “If you don’t stop mooching over this and fucking call him, I’m going to put on every single Nicholas Sparks movie. Every single one. We will watch them all, and you will be destroyed by the end of it. We’ll start and we’ll end with The Notebook.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” I sit up, clutching the back of the couch.

  “Oh, I would. So knock this shit off. I’ll admit I was angry at him, but Parker and I have been talking. Cole’s absolutely shattered and sorry. If he didn’t get what hurt you, that would be the issue, but he does.”

  “Why do I feel like everyone is talking about me behind my back?” I sigh.

  “Because we care, you idiot. You might be talking to dad again, but we’re all going to talk whether you like it or not,” she adds, and I roll my eyes. Ouch. That hurts. Her phone beeps, and she mumbles something before putting it on the table next to the couch. “Weekends should be mine. Not spent filling out spreadsheets for things I can do Monday.”

  “I think your phone has gone off more times today than mine would in a week.”

  “That’s how it goes,” she groans as her phone beeps again.

  “He’s a needy bastard.” I lift my beer to my lips. “Your phone ever get turned off?”

  “Nope. It sees more action that I have my entire life,” she jokes, and I lean down and grab it, slapping her hands away as I press the “off” button.

  “Right, there’s that. You can say your battery is flat and you didn’t have a charger.”

  “Letty! He lives in this building. He knows I’m home and will know I’m lying.”

  “I don’t care. What a prick you have for your boss and landlord. Fun times.”

  “I can barely hold the excitement of you talking to him,” she mutters sarcastically.

  “Where’s the pizza?” I growl, looking over to the door. “Anja said she’d be back with it soon.”

  “You seen her?” Odette pipes up. “Guys fall over themselves to talk to her. She’s probably whacked a few of them on the head with our pizza to keep them away.”

  “We need to get Parker over here,” I concede. I stand up to stretch my back, ignoring the ache in my feet. A kick-arse outfit is worth this pain, I tell myself. I twist my hips a few more times before the sound of knocking at the door gets my attention.

  “That’s probably her. She’ll have her hands full.” Odette goes to rise from the couch, but I hold my hand out.

  “Chill. I’ve got this.”

  “Fine, I’ll go use the bathroom really quickly.” She leaves the room, and I turn, heading over to the door, opening it while yelling, “Pizza biatch is back! Come to mam—.”

  The words die on my tongue as the most striking man stands before me. Dressed in a three-piece grey suit, he stares back at me in confusion, a touch of anger in his eyes.

  “Who are you?” he snaps, and I recognise him. He has the same eyes and mouth as his sister, Anja. He has dark chocolate eyes and smooth dark skin. This man is sex on legs, but from the expression he is giving me right now, he’s also lethal.

  “I’m Letty, Odette’s sister.”

  “Well, then perhaps you can tell me where your sister is? She’s not answering her phone.”

  I walk past the door to stand directly in front of him as my liquid courage starts to build. “Actually—,” I move to completely block him from seeing inside the house, “—I’m afraid her phone is in Timbuktu until further notice. As in, Monday.”

  “I sent her some important emails. It’s vital that—.”

  “Nope. Sorry. I stopped caring about two minutes ago.” I look him up and down and frown. Of course the hot ones have to be arseholes.

  “I’m sorry?” His voice breaks into my thoughts, and I continue, “I’m spending time with my sister who works long hours for you. It didn’t matter what time I called her when I was across the Pacific, she’d be working for you. We’re having beers and pizza, and if you didn’t have that stick up your arse, I’d invite you in. I know you own the building and all, but tonight it’s chicks, not dicks.”

  “Now, wait a minute—.”

  “Ugh! What is with bossy bosses? You think if you snap your fingers we’ll come running? That just because you fuck like stallions that you can boss your way in? No way!”

  “I would never! I have a girlfr—,” he snaps, but I hold my beer-filled hand up.

  “No excuse for being a bossy dickhead, then. You can be nice and remember she’s a person with feelings, and not a robot.”

  His brows crease in confusion, and I can’t get over how hot he is. She’s working for Mr. GQ.

  “My sister is amazing. Maybe if she had time to go out and find a sex stallion, she wouldn’t look so stressed all the time.”

  “I don’t really think this is appropriate.…”

  “But I’m sure her vibrator has a work out.” I tilt my head and look at him. “You’re pretty hot. Just a shame you’re bossy. You’d be great to fantasise about.”

  “Letty, who’s at the door?” Odette calls out, and I shift the door, stopping dickface bossr />
  from looking in.

  “Oh, it’s your dickhead boss. Just telling him it’s a chicks-only night. Dicks are left at the

  door. He wants you to check your phone, and I said nope,” I admit happily. Girl power rules!

  “Oh, my God! Get away from the door.” Her feet rustle across the floor as she races across the room. Why is she sounding so stressed? I sip my beer and frown. Where’s the vodka? That’s so much better than this.

  “Anja isn’t here, Micah. Sorry. I’ll get to those emails right away.”

  “You will fucking not!” I shout. “We’re having a girls’ night!”

  She takes the door from my fingers and pushes it to slam, when Anja appears with the pizza.

  “Hey, Micah. You staying for pizza?” she offers, but Odette quickly opens the door more to grab Anja’s arm and drag her inside.

  “No, he isn’t. I’ve got work to do,” Odette says.

  Anja frowns, and I glare at Micah before the door slams in his face.

  “And, I think that’s enough beer for you.…” Odette plucks the bottle from my hand, causing me to jump and try to get it back.

  “I wasn’t finished with that!” I whine, but she ignores me, stomping over to the sink and dumping it beside it.

  “I don’t even want to know what you said to him, I just … can’t.” She grabs the plates, and I follow Anja to the couch.

  “Micah’s a big boy,” Anja chimes in, and I chuckle. We sit, and Odette practically throws slices of pizza on our laps.

  “He’s massive! He also looks fine in a suit. You never told me your boss was sex on legs.” I adjust the slices to stop them from sliding off my plate.

  “Letty, please.” Odette’s eyes flick back to Anja and then to me. “He’s my boss.”

  “His girlfriend is a complete bitch,” Anja admits. “I really wish he’d end it with her. She’s so vapid.” Her phone chimes in her lap, and her mouth curves into a smile. “Don’t worry about that work. Micah said you should spend time with your interesting sister.”

  “He sooo likes you,” I tease.

  “No, he’s my boss, sweetie. My very taken boss. I’m not interested in dating—anyone. I hang out with smelly soccer players, remember? That’s the last thing I need.”

  “I know what you need,” Anja chirps, and I laugh.

  “Yeah, it’s probably hidden in her drawer—ouch!” I rub my arm where Odette whacked me, while she shakes her head.

  “I enjoyed the patches of radio silence when you and Cole were smitten. It meant you didn’t have time to meddle.”

  I lift a piece of pizza to my lips, but my movement halts. My chest feels tight just thinking of him. I bite into the piece slowly and chew silently. A wave of yearning assaults my nerves.

  “You okay?” Anja nudges me with her foot, and I nod. I reach over to the coffee table and grab my phone. Before I can stop myself, I type out an email, this time with a different destination. My thoughts are no longer jumbled as clarity strikes me like a bolt of lightning.

  To: clawson@innovationdesigns.com.au

  From: lchase@innovationdesigns.com.au

  Subject: Please respond

  Date: Tues 14/10/19 8:15pm

  We’re broken, and despite what everyone is telling me, I don’t know if I want us fixed. But it doesn’t stop me from missing you.

  Cole

  The cold water runs across my back, but it does nothing to soothe the burn. I fill my palm and splash my face, trying to keep the heat at bay, as the shower pours around me. The ache isn’t from cycling to work, more so from being here most nights this week, slumped over the desk and reading her emails. They’ve become an obsession.

  Those fucking emails. I am a piece of shit. They are the quickest way to rub in how much of an absolute arsehole I am. Hours and hours spent poring over her emails made every word as brutal as her honesty. I relived each moment. I can see every fucking thing I did to her from a different perspective. I can’t believe I spoke to her so harshly. I’ve always known I was a prick, but I didn’t realise I was so destructive. Hearing it from her side is brutal.

  I rub my chest, feeling the water cascade around me. She let me in her heart when she should’ve pushed me away with a shovel to the face. I need to apologise for so many more things. How the hell do I hope to get her back? I don’t deserve her. Where do I even start? I don’t have Odette’s address. She’s flatly refused to talk to me.

  “I can’t get over how he hardly lets me talk at work functions. It’s like he’s embarrassed to let me speak. I’m not an airhead, but I feel like one.” No, you were never an airhead. Those were competitors, and I was a jealous sod who didn’t want them to try and poach you.

  “Why does he have to be so damn mean? Does he think wearing a tie is a reason to be an arsehole? Who wears fluro pink? No wonder he’s single.” Fair call. I didn’t care what I wore, all I wanted to do was get to work to see her.

  “He said he hated me. How can someone you’ve known your whole life turn like that?” I was an idiot. A selfish, stupid fool.

  “I was invisible for all those years, yet he took up my whole world.” You were never invisible. You were luminous. You were never an eclipse.

  Fuck. I am never getting her back.

  I step out of the shower and dry off, the edges of fatigue slowly creeping in, but I shake my head to wake myself up a bit. I am wrecked. Getting dressed, I hear murmurs outside the door, and instinct tells me to stop what I’m doing and listen.

  “What’s wrong with that one?” Nigel asks.

  “Oh, she didn’t type fast enough,” Steve responds.

  “Or the redhead?” Brad prods.

  “She wasn’t punctual enough,” Steve huffs.

  “Or this one?”

  “Too tall.”

  “Not enough experience.”

  “But didn’t she have over a decade working in our industry?”

  “He said he was looking for a particular set of skills.”

  “Huh,” Nigel huffs. “What about this one?”

  “Gave him burnt coffee. Mine was all right,” Steve mutters.

  I step back. Fuck me. I’ve gone insane. Now my workmates probably think I’m a complete fucking disaster. I can’t bring myself to hire anybody. I’m going to fuck up my own company all over my pining, as I’m too proud to talk to the boys about what happened with Letty. Instead, I’ve revved up my attitude.

  “Fuck!” I hit my fingers against the basin and stare at my face in the mirror. I’m hollow without her. I look thinner, and my muscles are leaner in my forearms. I have used my bike like I’m training for a triathlon. I am gearing up for the biggest hurdle of my life—getting Letty back. All I need is a sign to go to her. I’m shit scared I’m going to screw it up even more if I approach without her permission. But after all those emails, the only sign I’m probably going to get is her pointing to the “exit” above the door—and maybe another bird from Odette. She’s stopped emailing this week, and I’m lost not knowing how she’s feeling.

  “The guy who is supposed to be mine is supposed to love me and be my whole world, not

  destroy it.”

  My jaw clenches, remembering that particular email. Letty is in Canada, still using her email to pour out her thoughts about us. About what I did to her, how I’m haunting her. I’m a self-deprecating arsehole. I need to be with her.

  I straighten my tie and tidy around me before turning the handle to head out into the office. Once again, Friday is upon us, and the boys are finishing up some sketches before our meeting. I stroll out and see the guys, who try hard to not look confused at me not being ready before now. Normally, they arrive a long time after I have.

  “Morning, guys.” I smile, head over to my desk, and turn on my laptop. My fingers itch to creep over to her desk and read more of her emails, but I can’t in front of them.

  “Hey, Cole,” Nige greets me, and Steve bids me a good morning. Theo is over on the communal desk sketching and gives me a n
od, his earbuds in his ears as he drafts.

  I load up my calendar and sigh, trying to make sense of appointments. I had double-booked a few clients last week, and thankfully Nige was quick on his feet to handle a few of them without me totally cluster-fucking it up.

  I am restless. I click on my email to deal with the matters of the day and freeze.

  An email to me from Letty. Is this her telling me to finally piss off? My fingers linger over the message, but Steve calls out to me.

  “Hey, Cole. I’m going to pop out to get a coffee and some lunch. You want anything?”

  I look at the clock on my desktop and cringe. I’ve managed to screw around all morning.

  “Yeah.” I reach in my back pocket and pull out a few notes. “I’d love a coffee and a focaccia of some sort.”

  He collects the money and gives me a “you poor bastard” smile. I return it by raising my eyebrows. What else can I do?

  The others follow him out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I pull back from checking the message. If it’s bad, there’s no way that I won’t explode and flee work. I need get my head back in the game and try not to think about it until the end of the day.

  Yeah, right. The email stares at me like a beacon, so I decide to triple-check the messages around it and unnecessarily contact clients, reconfirming their appointments and wishing them happy holidays. Christmas isn’t for another month, but the I’m struggling not to check her email. She deserves more than me being a jerk.

  After lunch, I shift to the main table but take my tablet with me, so I can keep the email close by. I begin sketching on the latest design, but I keep making mistakes. Nothing is going my way. I sigh and lift my tablet to login. I glance up at the clock and see it’s approaching four p.m. Fuck it. I can’t wait any longer.

  My heart hammers in my chest. But before my fingers strike the keys, I decide that no matter what her words are, this can’t be the end. We did not come this far for it to all be screwed up. I’m going to go to her. If she has to tell me to my face it’s over, then I’ll take it. But not before I get down on my knees and beg until my legs bleed.

  My finger doesn’t hesitate, striking down hard on the email.