Room Service

by Chance Carter

  “Tell me about these circumstances in Punta Cana,” she said, giving me a steely stare that warned I wouldn’t be able to weasel my way out of this one.

  I wanted to tell her anyway. She might not totally understand, being an outsider and all, but she was the only one who understood me.

  I spilled the whole story, starting with Baldric’s lobby once-over, to my snappy conversation with Max on the way home. When I was finished, I chugged down half my beer, like telling the story had been akin to running a marathon.

  “That’s insane!” she declared. “What has he said since you got home?”

  I shrugged, “Nothing actually. I haven’t called him, he hasn’t called me.”

  “That seems a bit strange. I mean, I completely believe you and all, but isn’t Max normally a little more...”

  She trailed off, and I took the opportunity to fill in the blanks for her.

  “Thoughtful? Kind? Pleasant?”

  Willow laughed. “Yup. All of those things.”

  “He is, usually,” I said with a sigh, slumping forward in my seat. The beer was doing its trick. My stomach felt bubbly and light, even if my heart still weighed heavily in my chest.

  “I’m still trying to figure him out, to be honest,” I admitted. “I know how he likes his coffee, where he buys his pants, even which side of the bed he prefers to sleep on. I’ve met his mother, seen childhood photos of him, and now we’ve been on vacation together. Sometimes it seems like we’re close, like a couple should be.”

  Willow’s blue eyes filled with worry. “But other times?”

  I winced, as if the answer caused me physical pain. “Other times it’s like I’m just his personal assistant, who he also gets to bang. It feels one-sided, you know? I feel like I’m playing the part of girlfriend and assistant, which makes it confusing when I need to interpret his feedback as either boss or boyfriend.”

  Willow nodded understandingly, reaching across to lay a hand over the top mine. “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, delicately extracting my hand from under hers. “Cause the thing is...”

  Could I say it? Could I finally say it out loud and just be out with it?

  “I’m... I’m in love with him, Willow.”

  She didn’t look even mildly surprised. “Figured as much.”

  “Can you at least pretend to think this is kind of a big deal?” I asked, bitterly.

  Willow’s eyebrows shot up and she practically leapt over the table to console me, bracelets jangling. “No! No! That’s not what I mean. Of course, this is a big deal.”

  I had to push her away, guiding her back to her side of the table.

  “This is a huge deal,” she continued. “I genuinely empathize with you. It’s just that I’ve known about your feelings for Max for a while—since before you and Max were even a thing, and then as soon as you guys slept together it was like a light turned on behind your eyes. I’ve basically been waiting for you to realize it yourself for a long time.”

  I sent her a wry smile. “Any insight on how he feels about me?”

  Willow’s angelic face took on a somber expression, one that did little to inspire hope in me.

  “I don’t know him like I know you,” she said. “Besides, I haven’t spent much time with him. Only he will be able to tell you that. Unless he talks to that dumbass Jeremy as much as you talk to me.”

  I laughed, picturing Jeremy and Max having girl talk over espresso in Max’s office. In my mind, Jeremy was an expert listener, patiently nodding as Max spilled bucket loads of feelings onto him.

  Not a chance.

  “Jury’s out, I suppose,” I said. “But it seems a bit pointless. I obviously would love for him to love me, but we’re too different. There’s too much standing in the way. Max has got a very particular idea in his head of how his life is going to go, and a wife and kids isn’t part of it. He’ll break up with me eventually. I can feel it. So, what am I even doing with him?”

  Willow leaned back and crossed her arms, clearly thinking. I took another sip of my beer while I waited, feeling ten times lighter. It wasn’t just the effects of the alcohol, either. I’d been holding this in for a long time. Max was the only person I saw regularly, and it wasn’t like I could talk this over with him.

  Hey, babe, are you going to dump me in two years citing your inability to commit? Cheers.

  No thank you.

  Willow released a sigh, and took a drink of beer before fixing me with an apologetic smile. “I think you should make a clean break.”

  “You do?”

  She nodded. “You’ve got enough experience now that you could probably find another, similar job. Your feelings for him are wonderful, but like you said—even if he reciprocated to the fullest, you’re going different places in life. It might just be easier to end it now. That being said, this has got to be your decision.”

  “I know,” I said, nodding. “I appreciate the input though. I’ve been going mad from the beginning with this set of anxieties. I feel like there’s an axe hanging over our heads.”

  “Let’s not think about that anymore,” she suggested, raising her glass. “At least not for tonight. Tonight, we’ll have a couple more drinks, giggle like school girls, and do anything but think about being adults.”

  I laughed. “Cheers to that.”

  My one last, parting adult thought as we descended into a night of revelry, was this—leaving Max would be torture. No doubt about it. But wouldn’t it be worse in the long run if I stayed around trying to pull water from a stone?

  Chapter 28

  Max

  It was my first day back at the office, and it was just as I’d dreaded it would be. Phone calls and emails had been trickling all day. Most were disgruntled investors, and it took some time to calm each of them down. Nevertheless, calm them I did. In fact, I made an art out of it.

  Surprisingly, there were a few calls from other high ranking members of the business community who’d heard about what happened and wanted to congratulate me. The first time I answered one of those calls was a shock. Apparently, Baldric Hammond had a reputation among certain groups for being a complete sleaze, and a few women in particular wanted to pay their respects to the man who’d jumped at the opportunity to put Hammond down. Not that I was taking credit as some sort of vigilante for women’s rights, or anything.

  It did make me even more glad that I’d hit him, though I’d never once regretted it. If my mother was upset, she could blame her own goddamn flair for the dramatic. And her hot head.

  As for the rest? I was dealing with it one step at a time.

  The news of the prospective sale hadn’t reached investors until after the scandalous events of Punta Cana, so the stock didn’t take much of a beating. I felt like my desk had been turned into a complaint hotline more than anything else, except everybody wanted to comment or complain about me personally and not Goodman-Westfield as a company.

  All the same, I deserved it. I took full responsibility for my actions, and would spend the entire week mopping up this mess if I had to. It wasn’t my fault that the guy was a complete dick, which made it all seem a little unfair, but at least I got to remember the sweet look of horror on Baldric’s face the moment his nose cracked.

  I’d be remembering that with glee for a long time.

  I was too busy throughout the day to talk to Emma, and I didn’t know what to say to her in the first place. An apology was in order—that much I knew. But then what? I had all these feelings swirling under my skin, so close to the surface, yet too far away for me to identify.

  The intensity of emotions I’d felt on that trip were beyond anything I’d grown to expect in these kinds of relationships. Or any relationship. The fury, the fear, the worry. And something a helluva lot warmer than any of those.

  I almost wished I could talk it through with someone, to map it all out visually like I normally did with big ideas and questions in business, but the person I normally did that wit
h was sitting outside my office quietly hating my guts. She was the only one I wanted to talk to about this, or about anything, really. She’d become my rock and now that I’d screwed that up, I didn’t know what to do.

  Around midday there was a lull as people went off to lunch meetings and the like. Normally, this would be around the time Emma ordered us lunch, but I was still surprised when she buzzed to tell me she was on her way in.

  I sat up straighter in my chair and adjusted my tie just as she walked through the door. She was carrying a folded piece of paper, and at first I thought it was a new take out menu to add to our collection. The paper wasn’t glossy though, like one would expect, and as she handed it to me she looked away.

  “What’s this?” I took it and unfolded it. After reading the first two lines, I dropped it onto my desk. “You’re quitting?”

  Emma pulled her lower lip between her teeth and her brow creased.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Technically resigning. I’ve already started drafting a job posting for the website and I’ve contacted a couple recruiters.”

  “Emma...” I rose, walking around to her side of the desk.

  She backed away, which stopped me in my place. Each step she took backward felt like something being ripped from my chest.

  “I’ve made my decision, Max.” She lifted her gaze to mine and held it unwaveringly.

  “Let’s talk—”

  The door banged open and Jeremy stormed in. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  It didn’t end, did it?

  “Jeremy, if you woul—”

  “Yes, I would like to come in and sit down and talk about this, thank you very much, Max.”

  I stared past him at Emma, who was quietly slipping out of the room. She shut the door behind her, leaving me alone with a headache on legs.

  “You’re getting upset over nothing,” I said. “I’ve been handling it all morning. It’s not as big a deal as it seems.”

  “Not as big a deal as it seems?” Jeremy hissed. “The only reason I didn’t come down here earlier to tan your hide is because I’ve been on the phone with Hammond’s lawyers all day, convincing them not to press charges.”

  “It’s not my fault he can’t take a punch.”

  I knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as I said it, but seriously—what kind of coward presses charges for a punch he rightfully deserved?

  “What has gotten into you?” Jeremy asked. He plunked down into the chair across from my desk as I sighed and took my own.

  “You sound like my mother.”

  “She and I do get along rather well. I wouldn’t be so surprised.”

  He picked a pencil out of my holder and snapped it in half, staring me dead in the eye. He then dropped the pieces to the floor. Now he was just being belligerent.

  “Tell me what the hell could possibly have influenced you to punch and—as his lawyers are saying—nearly kill a man who only hours before you’d been close to sealing a highly profitable business deal with.”

  “Nearly killed?” I asked incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Even Lance took a punch better than this guy.”

  “Yes, nearly killed. Apparently if you hit a man the right way you can jam parts of his nose up into his brain. They sent over a diagram. It was disgusting.” Jeremy rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you telling me that punching people is a habit you’ve gotten into lately? Are you trying to start some sort of rich boy fight club?” He dropped his lawyerly act for a minute and grinned. “If so, why haven’t I been invited?”

  “Because there is no rich boy fight club,” I groaned. “And even if there were, I doubt they’d invite you.”

  “They’d be missing out then.” Jeremy began twirling a paperclip in circles against my desk, and his eyes grew more serious. “Come on now, Max, why don’t you tell me what’s really got your panties in a twist here? Why can’t you stop punching people?”

  “You make it sound like I’ve got a chronic problem. I’ve only hit two people.”

  “While that may be true, the condensed nature of the assaults indicates that there’s a deeper problem. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on.”

  His gaze was nothing short of piercing. Jeremy rarely found himself in a court room, but I didn’t have to see him at work to know his interrogation skills were second to none. I’d admitted more to him over the course of my life than anyone else. As well as being an excellent lawyer, he also knew how I ticked.

  “You seem like you already have an idea,” I muttered. “Why don’t you just tell me your theory and I can correct you if you’re wrong.”

  Jeremy stopped the spinning paperclip and leaned forward in his seat. “If I tell you what I’m thinking, do you promise not to knock my lights out?”

  “I promise.”

  He sat back. “You, my friend, are in love.”

  That wasn’t the answer I’d been expecting. I thought he might say something about my mother, or how overworked I’d been recently. I didn’t think he would suggest that it was love at play, because I hadn’t quite figured that out for myself yet.

  When I stayed silent another moment, Jeremy’s lips twitched into a triumphant smirk. “I knew it! So, who was the first guy, huh? Baldric wanted something rude, I know that much, but what got you throwing jabs in the first place?”

  His enthusiasm was mildly irritating. At this point I would have preferred him chastising me like everybody had. I wasn’t sure I was ready to discuss something as personal and raw as love, especially since I hadn’t even settled into the realization myself. As far as I knew, I had feelings for Emma, but I’d never bothered to classify them further than that. Did I love her? Was it possible?

  My heart warmed.

  I did love her and it was possible.

  It was a big problem on top of an already complicated situation, but that didn’t mean I could just ignore my feelings.

  “The first one was her ex-boyfriend,” I said. “You could say he was also being rude.”

  “Ha! Love it.” Jeremy bent over and retrieved the broken pieces of pencil from the floor, letting them tumble back onto my desk. “Of course, that doesn’t help the whole Baldric situation, but I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

  “How did you guess?” I asked.

  If Jeremy had correctly guessed, did that mean Emma knew as well? My mother, maybe? Hell, did the whole office know and I was the last one to find out because I was useless?

  “You’ve never put anything ahead of your business before,” Jeremy said simply. “And quite frankly, you’re not normally so rash. I work very hard to get a reaction out of you sometimes so I was a bit peeved to hear you’ve been reacting like a motherfucker all over the place.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore,” I said somberly. “Emma quit not a quarter of an hour ago.”

  “She didn’t!”

  I nodded. “She did. I’ve got her resignation letter right here.” I tapped at the paper, and Jeremy reached over the desk to snatch it away. His eyes tracked along the lines as he read, then he passed the paper back.

  “It’s quite a cold resignation letter. Did you do something to upset her?”

  “Yes,” I said without thinking. I didn’t really want to get into my relationship troubles with Jeremy, but since there was nobody else I could talk to and he was a willing and enthusiastic listener, I began to explain the events of the past twenty-four hours and what I’d done to earn Emma’s disdain.

  Afterward, Jeremy shoved out his bottom lip and nodded slowly, indicating that he’d absorbed everything I tossed at him.

  “Well, you obviously can’t let her quit,” Jeremy said. “She means a lot to you and if she’s quitting just because of that fight, I think she can easily be brought around.”

  “I don’t know if she’s quitting just because of the fight.”

  He cocked his head. “Oh no? Why not?”

  “Because you barged in here just as
I was about to find out.”

  “Right, of course,” he replied, laughing. “You’ll have to forgive my insistence on doing my job to the best of my abilities. It makes me a real menace sometimes.”

  Sure, that was what we’d call it.

  “What are you going to do?” Jeremy asked. “I don’t think she’ll leave if you ask her not to. She’s crazy about you. Between you and me, I’ve even seen her on Pinterest looking at a bunch of wedding shit.”

  I laughed and thought about how mortified Emma would be if she knew that Jeremy had seen her.

  “That’s not for me specifically,” I told him. “She just really wants to get married and have the perfect wedding.”

  “One of those, eh?” Jeremy lit up with a wry smile. “So, what are you going to do about that? Aren’t you in some sort of anti-marriage crusaders club?”

  “Very funny,” I replied. “As for your actual question, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve never wanted to get married before, but I’ve also never cared for a woman like I care for Emma. She’s special to me.”

  “Special enough to marry?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, unsure of how to answer. At one point, I might’ve said that there was no woman in the world who could convince me that marriage was a good idea. When Emma came along many things had changed. She was something special, yet I still balked for whatever reason. I didn’t like marriage, and marriage didn’t like me.

  I sighed. “I need to talk to her. Is there anything else you need from me to sort all this shit out?”

  Jeremy’s face cracked into a blinding smile. “I didn’t need anything from you in the first place. I just wanted to see what your problem was.” He rose nimbly, buttoning his suit jacket as he headed to the door. “Good luck, my friend.”

  I gave him a short salute and followed his progress to the door. Once he was gone, I poised my finger over the intercom button and buzzed.

  Chapter 29

  Emma

  Jeremy flashed me a grin as he walked past, which I found more troubling than anything else. He’d been in such a mood when he originally stalked into Max’s office. What had gone on in there that had made him so smiley?