Later that week in the office, I snapped at everybody. Corinne cringed every time she walked into my office to drop off a paper, and I didn’t blame her. I was sick of her, William, Grace, Bobby, and everybody else I had to see. The next time somebody knocked on my door, I growled a loud, “What?”
Bobby.
“Did your promotion come with a pissy attitude?” he asked as he stepped in.
I took a deep breath and put down my pen so I could massage my temple. When I knew I wouldn’t snap, I dropped my hands and looked at him.
“What’s up?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really,” I said, letting out a breath. The last thing I needed was to talk about it. I went from being upset at myself for letting her go, to being pissed off at her for going and going with him. Him. The guy who had treated her like shit, cheated on her, let himself be seen in public with other women, and then there was the ice cream parlor thing . . . I just . . . I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t.
“Okay. You want to go watch the game, have a drink? Maybe it’ll help you sort your shit out.”
“I’m fine,” I growled. “Nothing to sort out.”
“Dude. Everyone in the office is fucking scared to talk to you right now. This has been going on for a week. You really don’t think we realize you have a problem?”
My hands formed fists. I ground my teeth together to keep myself from lashing out. The moment I felt my heart tighten and thought of the heart attack scare my dad went through a couple years ago, I realized I couldn’t do this anymore.
“I have to go talk to Will,” I said, standing from my chair and heading toward his office. I knocked once, twice, and raised a hand to knock once more before he shouted for me to come in. He was sitting on the other side of his desk with his eyes closed, the lights dimmed down as he listened to one of those relaxation podcasts he’d been into as of late. He’d even gone as far as to email one of the links to me, which I deleted without opening.
“Hey. What can I do for you?” he asked, straightening in his chair and pushing down on his phone to shut the Zen bitch up.
I took a deep breath and sat down across from him. This man had given me the opportunity of a lifetime twice now. First, when I came to him looking for a job in divorce law and he took a chance the moment I sat down and went over the reasons why I thought I’d be a good fit in his firm. Second, when he named me partner. Partner. My fucking name had just been painted on the outside of the goddamn building. Alessi, Cohen, and Reuben, Esq. I wasn’t ashamed to admit tears were almost shed when I saw that. And there I was, about to let it all go. Or most likely let it all go, because if he told me I needed to quit, I’d do it and start from scratch at a different firm. The thought alone made me want to throw up, but the thought of my life without Nicole in it was unacceptable.
“I’m in love with your daughter,” I said, surprising myself. That wasn’t the way I wanted to start the conversation, and from the way his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, I could tell I took him by surprise as well. He cleared his throat, blinking.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I’m in love with your daughter,” I repeated. “I’m in love with her, and I don’t know when it happened, but I do know I should have passed her case along to someone else when we were well underway with it. It was wrong of me, and I’m willing to take responsibility for all of it.”
Will stayed quiet for a long moment, just staring at me. He was going to ask me to pack up my shit and leave. I knew this, because he was giving me the same look he gave Roger Petit when he fired him in front of the entire staff.
“Does she know?”
I swallowed, nodding, and then shook my head. “Not . . . no. I don’t know. She should know. It’s obvious.”
At this, his mouth twitched. “Obvious to whom?”
“Everyone, apparently,” I said, shrugging.
He put a finger up as if telling me to hold on, and pressed the intercom button on the office phone. “Corinne, will you come to my office?”
I frowned. Maybe he would tell her to pack up my shit for me. At least then I wouldn’t have to do all the work. That may be a good idea. But then she wouldn’t know where to put what and she’d probably mix up my boxes and I’d have to work double. Fuck.
“Yes, sir,” she said behind me. I didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her.
She probably still had the mustard stain on her ivory top anyway, and my eyes would get glued to that and she’d think I was staring at her tits and get the wrong impression.
“Come here for a second,” he said, signaling for her to come in. I finally looked up at her when she stood beside me, and sure enough, the mustard stain was still there. “Have you heard anybody say that Victor is acting a little . . . off lately?”
I examined the side of her face. Her cheeks flushed. She shot me an embarrassed look before looking at Will again. “You mean, more off than usual?”
My mouth dropped. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged, cringing. “Just . . . you’ve been in a bad mood.”
“Says who?” I asked.
“Everyone,” William answered. “Everybody here has made mention about your mood, and it started the day after your promotion went through.” He looked at Corinne. “Thank you. You may go now.”
She scurried off. I narrowed my eyes at the betrayer as she left the room.
“That’s bullshit,” I argued.
“It’s not, and now you come in here telling me that you may have feelings for my daughter,” he said, raising an eyebrow as if to say what the hell am I supposed to think?
“I don’t think I have feelings for her, William. I fucking know it. If I didn’t know it, I wouldn’t be sitting here telling you, and if I wasn’t absolutely certain I was in love with her, I wouldn’t risk my job.”
I decided that if I was going to get fired or demoted, I was going to go out with a fucking bang.
And that’s pretty much how my two-hour meeting, later known as The Big Debate with William started . . .
“AND YOU JUST let him go?” I whispered, my heart and head pounding simultaneously.
“I had no choice,” my dad said.
I closed my eyes, sagging down to my living room floor. Bonnie climbed on my lap and nuzzled herself between my legs.
“He was okay with that?” I asked, running my fingers through Bonnie’s soft hair.
“He had no choice.”
Sadly, no choice seemed to be the only choice we had.
“Okay, Dad. I have to go. I’ll see you soon.”
“I’m sorry, pumpkin. I love you.”
“Yeah. Love you too.”
I hung up and tossed the phone on the couch behind me. I felt sick to my stomach. He’d acknowledged us? To my dad. Why would he do that? Why would he even . . . I didn’t understand it. Clearly he hadn’t told my dad because he wanted me. He’d told him because he wanted to come clean about having supposed feelings about me. Because he couldn’t live with himself, knowing it was something that was against the company policy and not telling my dad about it. But it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t because he wanted me.
I twisted and picked up my phone again, texting Estelle to thank her for inviting me to her party, but sending her my regrets for not being able to attend. Victor had sent me a text message while I was in Argentina. Three simple words that set my soul aflame.
I miss you.
I hadn’t responded because I was shocked he’d do that, especially with his paranoia of having things traced. I hadn’t called because what I wanted to say to him couldn’t be said over the phone.
My phone rang a few seconds after I’d tossed it.
Estelle.
I almost didn’t answer, but then figured it wouldn’t be fair to her. She seemed like a planner and probably had something specific for the attendees.
“Why aren’t you coming?” she asked.
�
��I just . . .” I sighed. I could lie, or I could just come out with it, and because I was a shit liar, I came out with it. “I think it will be awkward to see your brother. I need to see him, but I don’t think your party is the right setting.”
“Who cares about him? I invited you, not you and him together. You. Please come. I already made you a heart.”
I closed my eyes, feeling impending tears form behind my lids. “You made a kaleidoscope heart for me?”
She made me a heart, made of broken glass that represents broken hearts and pain and how beautiful the brokenness we carry inside makes us. Why did she have to be so nice? How could she have known how badly I needed something like that right now?
“Of course. You said you liked them,” she said.
I swallowed. “Okay. I’ll just pass by.”
“Yay. See you tomorrow. And remember, pirate.”
“I remember,” I said, smiling as we hung up.
I called Marcus and asked him to pick me up, not because of the media—as I hadn’t seen any—but because he was still on the payroll and I didn’t want to park anywhere. He showed up much sooner than expected.
“You must have been dying to see me again,” I said, opening the door.
He shook his head, but smiled a little. “If Gabriel didn’t pay me so well, I would have taken twenty minutes longer.”
I hid my smile by turning around and locking the door. “You’re getting better at jokes,” I said.
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment coming from you.”
“It’s a very big compliment coming from me. I’m the funniest person you know.”
“I worked for Martin Lawrence once,” he said as he turned on the car.
“Ah. So he will tell me who he’s worked for in the past.”
He shrugged and went back to silence while I sketched out some pirate outfits I thought I could make by tomorrow night. In the end, I decided to buy most of the materials already done, like a white frilly blouse and tall black boots. I’d figure out what I could do with the elastic, black chiffon, black lace fabric, black latex, and basically any black material I could find. After I bought what I needed and got back in the car, I started feeling nervous again. I was going to the party, and I was going to see Victor, and I hadn’t even spoken to him. I’d have to call him. Right? I’d text. He’d texted, so I’d text back. Tonight. Or maybe when I got home.
“Marcus, let’s say you were going to a party, and you knew a girl you used to . . . have something with was also going . . . would you take a date?”
“Maybe. Are you taking one?”
I blinked. “I’m not talking about myself.”
Marcus’s eyes slid toward me. “You’re asking for a friend?”
I pursed my lips. “You know, I didn’t ask Chrissy to come shopping with me because I thought we could use this time to do some quality bonding, but if you’d like me to call her . . .”
His eyes widened. “I wouldn’t.”
“She really seems to like you,” I said, smiling.
“No. I mean, I wouldn’t take a date,” he said, frowning.
“Oh.” I paused. “Well, he’s been seen with a lot of blondes lately.”
“You’ve also been seen with more than one man.”
“That’s different.”
Marcus shrugged.
“It’s different. I didn’t hook up with either of them. I kissed Brent because I was tipsy and Victor was pissing me off, and then I went with Gabriel because I had to,” I said defensively, and looked out the window when Marcus stayed quiet. “And I went to Argentina because I needed to get the hell away. I mean, who the fuck tells somebody’s dad they have feelings for his daughter after they get a promotion? I’m not taking responsibility for his stupidity. I kept our secret.”
Marcus parked in front of my house and left the car on. We stayed quiet for a long moment. It was so quiet, but all I could hear was noise. My dad’s conversation kept replaying in my head, the pictures of Victor flashed in and out in between . . .
“Don’t take a date,” he said after a long time.
“Huh?”
“Don’t take a date to the party. Go by yourself. You’re a fun girl, you can party by yourself, can’t you?”
“Of course I can,” I scoffed. “I don’t need anybody’s help to have fun.” I paused. “Will you go with me?”
Marcus laughed. “Definitely not.”
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“That’s usually a good sign.”
I rolled my eyes, picked up my bags, and got out of the car. “Pick me up tomorrow at eight.”
As soon as I was in the house, I went to work, but when I took a break to feed Bonnie, I felt myself gravitating toward my phone. I typed quickly, before I could change my mind. He was probably out anyway. It was Friday night, after all.
Me: I miss you too.
I set the phone down as if it were burning me and walked away from it before I could do anything crazy, like call him. My phone buzzed a few seconds later.
V: Did you have a nice vacation?
Me: Yes.
He didn’t respond after that, and I developed a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I went back to my costume and tried to ignore the phone and the way it wasn’t buzzing.
Marcus knocked on my door at seven fifty, and I could tell he was having a hard time not looking at what I was wearing when I opened the door.
“It’s okay, you can check me out. I look hot,” I said. “Unless I look slutty, then I have to wear the other outfit.”
“You look fine.”
“Not slutty?”
He shrugged. “I thought you didn’t care if you looked slutty?”
This guy. I shook my head, grabbed my purse, and followed him to my car. Thankfully there was still no sign of photographers, but as we were about to drive off, there was a knock on my window that startled me. I looked and saw Brent standing outside.
“Hey,” I said, lowering the window.
“Hey. I haven’t seen you around. Are you back with Lane?”
Evidentially, I’d used Brent as my sounding board one too many times. Thankfully I never said Victor’s name, so I guess he thought my rants about men were all about Gabe. I tried not to laugh at that thought.
“No. Definitely not.”
“Oh, good to know,” he said with a smile. “Maybe we can have dinner one of these days.”
“Sure. I’m running late though, so I’ll have to get back to you.”
“Of course,” he said, stepping away from the car. We waved at each other and Marcus drove away.
“Good thing you didn’t invite him,” he said after.
“Funny.”
We were quiet on our way to the party, which was at Victor’s parents’ house. Even that made me nervous. I’d be seeing them again, and I really, really liked them. The funny thing was that this was reminding me of a divorce in itself. A divorce where instead of the dog, I wanted shared custody of his family. The gates were open for us to drive in without ringing the bell, and we were able to pull up to the door. I stayed in the car for a while, breathing in and out.
“Call me when you need me to pick you up,” Marcus said.
I took one last long breath before stepping out of the car and telling him that I would, then walked up the steps with the bottle of wine I’d brought along and rang the doorbell. My heart pounded and shook in my chest, and when Victor opened the door, I was pretty sure I was close to fainting. I swallowed, registering the look of surprise on his face, his gaze skimming over me slowly. I felt the charge everywhere, and realized that despite the time we’d been apart, nothing had managed to numb what I felt for him, let alone make it vanish.
“Hi,” I managed to say, clearing the croak in my throat.
“You look beautiful,” he replied. My heart leaped again. I was finding it impossible to breathe with the way he was looking at me.
“I . . . thank you. You look . . .” My eyes followed the len
gth of his body. He was wearing a legit pirate costume.
“Ridiculous,” he said. “I know.”
I smiled. “I was going to say hot.”
He tilted his head a bit and smiled. It was so sexy, and real, and unexpected, that it made my heart squeeze in pain. “I’m glad that wasn’t lost under this ridiculousness.”
I laughed as he stepped aside for me to walk in. The house was decked out in pirate paraphernalia. I felt like I was on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean. “You guys really know how to throw a party.”
“Yeah, my mom and sister have no life.”
“I heard that,” Estelle said, appearing from where I knew the dining room was. She looked like a sexy Captain Hook, with a hook on one arm and a parrot on her shoulder. She walked over to me and pulled me into a hug. “Hi. Oh my God. I love your costume; did you make it? I’m so glad you came.”
Victor’s lips twitched when she said that, and I found myself smiling as my stomach flip-flopped again. I wanted to stop looking at him, but I couldn’t. I knew I missed him, I guess I hadn’t realized just how much until I saw him again.
“I made most of it,” I said. “Pulled an all-nighter.”
“Vic, can you help me get this?” a woman said, and when she walked in wearing her own sexy pirate outfit, I recognized her as the blonde in one of the pictures I’d seen of him. My smile instantly vanished and I started to feel like I couldn’t breathe.
“Victor,” she said again, more demanding.
“Chill out, woman. I’m coming,” he responded, looking at me momentarily. “I’ll . . .” He walked away without finishing his sentence, and I didn’t even know what to feel. I just knew my heart felt like it was too big for my chest and would possibly climb up my throat and spill out of my mouth at any moment.
“They’re planning something for me,” Estelle said in a quiet voice. “They think they’re slick, those two.”
Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3) Page 25