by Lara Swann
No. Don’t go there.
Maybe she was right about how to handle working together like this. Purely professional.
Even if I’m still damn curious about what she’s been up to these last ten years.
“Okay, sweetie, shall we find somewhere for you to play?”
I look down at my daughter, slinging the bag I brought with all the things she might need off my shoulder and setting it down to one side of my office.
“I want to help you, Daddy!”
I smile softly. Abbie has always been fascinated by whatever I might be doing. Maybe it’s because I’m raising her by myself, but I worry sometimes about where that sort of single-minded focus is really coming from.
“Well right now, Abbie, you can help me best by showing me what you were playing yesterday, hm? That’s what I want to know.”
“But…” She looks over at the desk with all the documents I didn’t get around to reading yesterday and the computer already started up casting white light over the whole thing - thank you for that Jessica. “Daddy, your work…”
“You’re more important than any of that, sweetie. Will you show me what you were doing yesterday?”
She looks at me, skeptical, and I feel guilty both about that and because despite every part of that being true - my little girl is far more important than my work - I also know that the reason I’m doing this is so that she’ll be content while I do switch my attention to my job.
“Okay then…”
She tips the bag upside down, upending all the contents all over the floor, but I let her despite the mess it makes. Hell, my office is probably too pristine half the time anyway - it’s nice to have something of my daughter about it, too.
She starts mumbling under her breath as she assembles various plastic animals and I try to join in, being interested and asking questions like the parent I want to be, all while trying not to glance at my watch or think about how much time I have left to prep for the next couple of meetings.
It half-works. I think.
Once she’s started to get lost in her game and imagination, I tell her quietly that I might just go and check my computer in case anyone needs me, and I’m relieved when she just mumbles something and waves her hand at me. I try not to be sad that she’s more used to this than she should be, and she probably expects it by now.
But for the moment she’s happy enough with her toys and I breathe a small sigh of relief as I seat myself behind my desk approximately two and a half hours later than I should have done, looking for all the things I might have missed in that time. Judging by the number of emails and missed calls I’ve got, as well as the notes that flash up on my screen every now and then from Jessica - sorted into urgent, important, information and minor lists - that’s quite a lot.
I glance over at Abbie, already wondering how I’m going to manage taking calls in here without disturbing either my daughter’s happy murmurings or the meeting itself. Not to mention what’ll happen for those two major meetings I have later on.
I think again of Jessica sat outside, of the way she talked to and looked at Abbie, and I wonder…
But I shake my head, determined not to ask her. For some reason, that feels like it crosses too many boundaries.
She’s my ex. And a secretary that’s too good to risk losing over something like this.
Abbie. My job. Jessica.
Not for the first time, I wonder which of the plates and priorities I’m juggling today are going to get screwed up by the others.
Chapter Four
Jessica
Kenneth has a daughter!
I’m trying to work, but every time I think I’m starting to get into the flow of things, that thought intrudes.
A daughter. A little girl.
Someone who at this very moment is right there in his office. Existing.
I don’t know why this blows my mind, but for some reason it does - especially after what I’ve seen of him over the last week. He’s not exactly the kind of guy I would call family-oriented.
But then…what would I know?
I’ve only seen him at work - and his reputation here is well known. Though, having worked this closely with him for a week, I’m not sure I’d quite say he’s as ruthless and demanding as the other secretaries I’ve worked with seem to think.
He’s focused, sure, and determined about it. I’m just not sure where the negativity around that comes from. I mean, he runs a company, what do they expect?
Even with my own bias against him, I have to reluctantly admit he hasn’t been that bad to work for. If anything, his obvious desire for efficiency and getting the job done seems to fit my need to be purely professional quite nicely. Since that first day, he hasn’t made any more comments about getting coffee or catching up either, and I’ve been enjoying the work.
Being his assistant puts me right in the center of ExVenture and there’s something invigorating about feeling like I’m in the beating heart of a company, with everything that forms a part of it going through and past and around me. Probably even more so than it touches him, since I’m the one that filters it. It’s a god-damn more interesting than being some Product Design exec’s secretary, that’s for sure.
But still…a daughter.
My god.
He has a child! Or…maybe even children?!
Oh wow…what if she’s not the only one? What if he goes home to…like…a wife and three kids running around or something?
I have to stop myself from giggling. Somehow, I just can’t imagine it.
Even if he was kind of different in front of his daughter. I mean, of course. I might not know much about them, but even I’d guess that children don’t like it when your voice is all professional and detached.
I shake my head and tell myself resolutely to stop thinking about it and focus on what I’m doing - but I can’t help it, for once my mind isn’t on my work.
I guess that’s probably okay, because with Abbie in there I doubt Kenneth is all too focused on his work either. I’m more than aware of the list of things that didn’t get done this morning, and while I tried to suggest possible people to delegate more than half of it to, it still leaves a lot to catch up on.
I keep wondering how he’s getting on in there. What they’re both getting up to.
How the super-efficient, no-nonsense businessman is coping with a little girl to disrupt him. My mouth twitches at the idea, as I start thinking about what it would be like to be a fly on the wall in that room right now.
It really shouldn’t surprise me. If anything, I should have expected it - I mean, he’s twenty-eight, same as me.
This is the sort of age people start having kids, right? I know plenty of girls from back in school who are already married with a couple of little ones, and even one of my friends in my old events coordinator job is pregnant now.
Only…Abbie isn’t exactly a baby. So I guess he started a while ago.
So what, though? Why shouldn’t he?
Why do I keep thinking about this?!
I shake my head and even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help comparing.
In the last ten years he’s founded a billion-dollar company and he’s got a family.
What have you done, Jessica?
It’s a stupid question. It shouldn’t be comparable. No one could ever expect to have that sort of success - and it’s not like I ever wanted to start a business. I’m not even sure about a family, either. My experience of that so far has been…mixed…to say the least. Seems like there’s entirely too much risk of it all going wrong.
So it doesn’t matter. If I don’t want it, who cares that he got it? With someone else.
I’m happy. I have a good life. I’ve got a grandfather whose love has never been in doubt, a cat that tolerates me admirably and even shows occasional affection, and good friends. I might even have a job I’m starting to enjoy.
That’s always been enough.
It’s just…I guess you don’t expect t
o see someone you used to know making up-and-coming hotshot headlines.
Someone you used to date.
Someone you lost.
“At least you’re not a dick.” I mutter to myself. “You’re a decent person who doesn’t promise the world to someone and then abandon them completely. That’s more important.”
A small part of me wonders if that age-old resentment is starting to wear a little thin, but I cling to it anyway.
The last thing I need is to start getting confused about my feelings toward my new-boss-old-ex.
* * *
As the day continues without much actual work being done - from either of us, as far as I can tell - my attention keeps drifting in and out.
Both to the little girl I can hear chattering away to herself inside Kenneth’s office…but also to the desk drawer I’ve been steadfastly ignoring so far.
And what’s inside it.
The letter that came this morning.
The one that I saw just as I was leaving for work this morning - the one that almost made me late, as I stood there, my whole world feeling like it was spiraling out of control. I didn’t have time to work out what to do with it then - definitely not if I was going to open it, and even throwing it away would have been too much to deal with.
But part of me couldn’t just leave it, so I stuffed it in my bag and then the moment I arrived, I tossed it into the drawer and resolved not to think about it until the end of the day.
At first, Kenneth’s daughter was enough of a distraction to help with that - I almost forgot about it entirely - but settling back into work that’s not nearly as focused as I’m used to, it’s creeping back to the forefront of my mind.
It’s right there.
Unable to help myself, I pull the drawer out - just a little - and my eye catches on the familiar handwriting. The last time I saw it was seven years ago - and after that I never wanted to see it again - but I’d still recognize it anywhere. The cursive that I used to think was beautiful and perfect, just like the woman I imagined writing it, until I slowly grew to hate everything it represented.
Disappointment. Excuses. Apologies.
And eventually…total obliviousness.
I never thought I’d see it again, actually. It would probably be easier if I hadn’t.
Because now…now I have to work out what to do with it.
Unbidden, my hand slips forward, hovering over the familiar lettering, almost tracing my name at the top - until a loud exclamation from inside Kenneth’s office makes me jump. I snatch my hand out and slam the drawer shut before I can think, my heart beating hard in my ears as I look up in alarm.
I catch the moaning complaints from inside and then the deeper tone of Kenneth’s voice as he tries to appease his daughter, and take a deep breath myself.
Not now. Now isn’t the time to deal with this. It’s not the time to think about it.
I turn the key in the lock and put it firmly to one side. That letter can wait. It’s obviously waited seven years for her to write it - I don’t have to look at it now. Or ever, if I don’t want to.
No matter how much some small part of me still wants to know what it says.
I turn back to my work, noticing the distinct lack of email responses from Kenneth’s account and let myself think about the difficulties he’s having today instead. Somehow, knowing that he’s probably struggling too makes me feel slightly better.
From the slightly muffled voices, I think Kenneth is still talking to Abbie, and I start wondering how he’s going to manage supervising his daughter for the meetings I know he’s got coming up.
He keeps the door to his office open and I’ve heard him talking on the phone intermittently through the morning, while Abbie seemed to chatter pleasantly to herself in the background - but from the glances I keep sneaking over in that direction, I can tell the situation has been deteriorating for the last couple of hours.
I think Abbie is getting bored.
I don’t blame her, either. An office isn’t exactly the most fun place for a little kid, especially if she’s not getting the attention and engagement she’s probably used to. Even with the toys he mentioned earlier…there’s only so long you can expect that to work.
When lunch comes around, I get a much better view of that as they walk past my desk.
Kenneth gives me a brief nod. “We’re going to head out to grab lunch and have a little walk.”
“Sure.” I say. He usually takes lunch at his desk or asks me to order something in, but I can definitely understand them both needing some fresh air today. “I’ll leave a few things on your desk for you to look at when you get back.”
“Thanks.”
It comes out clipped and disgruntled, and I don’t think he actually appreciates the thought of that at all, which I can understand right now. He still needs the documents and information though, especially for that meeting with the buyer from the health food store later today, and I’ve been reluctant to walk in and disturb them so far today.
He looks harried as he walks off - a deeper level of the stress he usually seems to carry around with him - and Abbie looks decidedly grumpy. It’s enough that I even start to feel a little sorry for him.
For Kenneth Stark. The boy who broke my heart, of all things.
I know I need to stop thinking of him like that. It’s probably not healthy - and he’s a man now, anyway. Not a boy anymore. He even has a child to prove it.
He’s not the same person…except that the part of me that stopped trusting people the moment he left reminds me that he is. That’s how people work. Everything that he was back then is still in there somewhere.
But that still doesn’t mean it’s helpful to keep mentally referring to him as the boy who broke my heart. Why would I even want that reminder?
It’s just…hard to stop. And maybe it’s good to remember all the reasons I have to dislike him. That way, I won’t accidentally start thinking about why I liked him in the first place. Then maybe the stupid fluttering I get in my stomach from time to time when he’s around will finally disappear. You would’ve thought a week would be long enough for that.
In the time it takes them to get back, I decide that I feel more sorry for her though.
It can’t be easy being dragged to your Dad’s work like this and mostly expected to entertain yourself.
At least she has a Dad, though. Some voice inside me insists. At least he seems to be trying.
I spend the whole time they’re out debating what I’m going to suggest when they get back.
It’s the only thing that seems to make sense, and if it hadn’t been that it’s Kenneth, I would have done so much earlier this morning.
When they walk back down the hall from the elevator, I can see Abbie tugging at Kenneth’s arm, dragging her feet as they approach, and I guess that the walk didn’t help as much as he was hoping for. The fed up expression on her face is the thing that finally decides me.
“Kenneth.” I say, before they have a chance to walk past. This time, he didn’t even stop to acknowledge me, too focused on everything else that’s going on at the moment.
He stops, looking back at me and I can see the mixture of exhaustion and concern in his expression. Damn it, another thing that makes him seem more decent than I want to give him credit back.
“You’ve got those meetings this afternoon.” I say, trying not to think too much about this.
I don’t know how I’m going to feel if he says ‘no’.
Instead, I turn my attention to Abbie and give her a small smile as I continue. “I was wondering if Abbie would like to spend some time out here with me, instead of waiting around in an empty office?”
He blinks, obviously surprised, and I try not to take that the wrong way. I’m more focused on Abbie anyway, who is looking uncertainly between me and her Dad. After the enthusiastic greeting she gave me this morning, I’m slightly disappointed, but it’s only to be expected if the morning has left her bored and irritable.
“You’ve spent all morning with your Dad.” I say, talking directly to her this time as I smile and hope I haven’t misread her earlier enthusiasm. “If you want, you could come and help me out here for a little bit, too.”
Her expression brightens at that and she tugs on Kenneth’s hand.
“Yes! Daddy, I want to help…umm…err...I want to help her.”
“Jessica.” I offer, giving her another little smile. “My name’s Jessica. And you’re Abbie, right?”
She nods, then looks back up at Kenneth.
“I want to help Jessica, Daddy.”
He’s still looking between us, obviously uncertain.
“You don’t have to…” He starts quietly.
“I’d like to.” I smile openly at them both, then look back at Abbie. “We’ll have some fun together, won’t we?”
She nods. “Yes! Daddy, pleease.”
He crouches down, looking at her seriously.
“You’d have to be very good for Jessica, sweetie.”
“I will!” She says happily and I’m surprised how good it feels to see that simple change in her now that she has something else to think about than spending the afternoon trying to amuse herself again. How good it feels to have caused it too.
“Don’t disturb her when she’s doing anything important, okay?”
“Okay.” She nods, with such a perfect replica of his serious tone that I almost want to laugh.
“Well, then…” He looks between us again and I can see the uncertainty is still there - but it’s mixed with relief, too. “I guess I’ll leave you both to it.”
She grins and steps up to my desk immediately, holding the edges and rising onto her tiptoes to peer at the papers I have lying here.
“Thanks, Jessica.” He adds as he stands up. “If you need anything, please do come and interrupt us.”