“Yeah…”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
I shook my head. “I told him I wanted nothing to do with him, but he showed up at my apartment tonight to talk to me again. I told him to fuck off.” I looked forward and drank from my champagne, needing the booze more than before. “I feel so stupid for not knowing. And I feel sick that I was the other woman. I hate liars and cheaters, and his excuse is that they have two kids and it’s just hard… It made me hate him. Like, hate him, hate him. Sometimes, you meet really good people in the world, like Cleo and you guys, and then you meet someone like that, and you question everything.”
He was quiet, looking down slightly, his mood visibly dark. His buoyant attitude and perpetual playfulness were a thing of the past now. He let the silence continue and didn’t say a word.
“Anyway, it’s over now.”
He stayed quiet, not moving at all.
I started to feel self-conscious, like he did think less of me. “Cleo told me I didn’t know…so I need to let it go.”
“You know what I think?” He lifted his head abruptly then downed the rest of his champagne. “I think you dodged a bullet for a couple reasons. One, he’s a piece of shit. And two, marriage is overrated—as that asshole just proved. I think the world would be a better place if fewer people got married. People keep on thinking it’s all butterflies and fucking rainbows, but it’s a test of character and strength, and most people don’t have what it takes. They’re weak. Fucking weak.”
His personality had flipped like he was bipolar, turning into a guy I didn’t even recognize. There was so much anger, so much rage, that it seemed like he was talking about something else altogether. All I could do was stare because I didn’t know what else to do. What the hell did I say to that?
He tossed his glass in the trash, where it shattered audibly. “Be thankful that you were the other woman rather than the wife who gets cheated on. Because if you get married, that’s exactly what you’ll be.”
8
Sicily
I didn’t want to waste any time mourning the loss of a man I didn’t even know in the first place, but it felt odd to immediately jump back into the dating pool, especially when I wasn’t really into it. Living in Manhattan gave me access to a lot of single guys my age, and while they were interesting professionals, they were mostly douchebags. They were superficial, arrogant, conceited. Vince was the first real connection I’d made with someone, but did that really count when I didn’t know him at all?
When I didn’t know he had a wife and two sons?
I wasn’t in a hurry to settle down and pop out a couple kids, but having that lifestyle was my dream. I wanted to fall in love with a good man and grow our family. I wanted my belly to get bigger with the life we created together. He had that…and didn’t want it? There was nothing more childish than someone who took everything they had for granted.
Ugh, I hated him.
But I really didn’t feel like dating again. It wasn’t fair to them.
It wasn’t fair to me.
I decided to be alone for a while, just focus on work, and spend my evenings enjoying the new wine club I signed up for. They sent you three bottles every single week. With my higher salary, I decided to splurge a little.
On Monday, I went to work in the morning, and I noticed Cleo’s husband walk through the door that the doormen held open for him. He gave a quick greeting, wearing his sweater and jeans, and headed to the private car waiting for him. He had a naturally brooding expression, and it was surprising that someone so cold could be with a woman so warm. But when I did see him interact with her directly, he seemed to be a whole different person.
I walked inside and headed to the office. Everyone was gathered in the rear conference room, going over assignments for the morning and the rest of the week. Cleo used the whiteboard to make notes, to outline what was a priority and everything else that was important but not paramount.
We’d just hosted a party full of politicians, but it was like it had never happened now. We were on to the next thing.
Once the meeting was concluded, we returned to our desks.
Dex walked over to his desk and grabbed his device that was sitting there. He opened it and scrolled through his work app, checking his notes for his assignments that were uploaded in real time. He was still a little cold, like his outburst on Friday evening still ate at him.
I came to his side. “Have plans for the holidays?”
As if he didn’t realize I’d been there for a while, he quickly turned his head. There was a slight look of annoyance, but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with me. It quickly passed, and he gave me his charming smile, only half-mast. “Just eating and sleeping. Then eating again…and going back to sleep.”
“Wow, that sounds nice.”
“What about you?”
“My parents live in Connecticut, so I’ll head out there for a couple days.” I’d gushed about Vince to my mom, and now I’d have to tell her she would never meet him. I wasn’t sure if I would tell her about the married part because that was just humiliating.
“Will you be eating and sleeping…and eating and sleeping?”
“Yeah, my dad and I usually take a nap on the couch while Mom does the cleaning.”
“Niiiiice.” He gave me a thumbs-up. When he turned away, his expression totally changed. “Oh no. We’ve got the Big Bitch incoming.”
“Big Bitch?” I looked up to see a man in a suit approaching us. He was average size and height, so I didn’t know where the “big” label came from. But he did look pretty angry. He came to the desk and practically huffed and puffed.
“Good morning, Mr. Taylor.” Dex acted like Big Bitch was nothing but pleasant. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing.” He literally raised his hand and held it up to Dex, as if to cover him so he wouldn’t have to look at him. “You.” He stared me down, vicious. “You’re the new punk, right?”
Punk? Did this guy just call me a punk? “Yes, my name is Sicily.” I would normally respond to hostility with my own hostility, but that wasn’t my job. I was supposed to serve clients and de-escalate tense situations. But I might not have said anything even if I could because I was so surprised. Every interaction I’d had in this building had been positive, with my colleagues as well as the clients. Cleo mentioned there were a few assholes—and I guess he was one of them.
“Do you know how to read, Sicily?” he asked coldly, snarling at me like I’d stolen his wallet or something.
“I’d say so.” I kept my cool, but I had no idea what I’d done to piss this guy off.
“Then why the fuck is—”
“Mr. Taylor.” Dex dropped his tone, abandoning his composure altogether. “I apologize if our services didn’t meet your standards, but Sicily is new and learning the ropes, and surely you have some kindness in your heart to be understanding. No need to drop f-bombs to a lady.”
He lowered his hand and turned his attention on Dex, even more furious by the way he was spoken to. “Don’t even get me started on you, nerd. I don’t want your prying fingertips touching my shit again—”
“Tony.” Cleo appeared from the rear, walking forward and between Dex and me until she approached Big Bitch and stopped in front of him, a dot compared to this man who looked like he wanted to snap our necks. But she somehow felt like the tallest person in the room. “What seems to be the problem here?”
“I don’t want this punk in my condo.” He stared at Cleo and ignored us. “She’s too stupid to know where the dry cleaning goes, so I don’t want her touching any of my other shit. I only want you in my residence, alright? And this geek over here needs to learn—”
“Do not call him that.” Cleo didn’t raise her voice, but it felt like she was yelling. The rage was palpable in the air around her, in her clipped tone, in the fiery way she stared at Big Bitch like she wanted to knock him out. “Speak to my staff like that again, and you’ll be dismissed from the building—�
�
“I own my condo—”
“Well, I own the building.” Her hands went to her hips as she stared him down without a hint of hesitation. “You’re replaceable, Tony. We are not. Talk to Dex that way again, and I will run you out of this building with your tail tucked between your legs. Look at him wrong, and I swear to god you’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life.”
Damn.
“It is our joy to serve our clients and make their lives easier. We’re selfless and hardworking, and if you don’t recognize that, perhaps this relationship is no longer viable. You will be dismissed from the building, so I suggest you contact your real estate agent because you’re moving.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “You can’t do that—”
“Looks like I just did.” She turned around and sauntered off like she didn’t just cut off his balls and put them in her pocket.
He watched her walk away, his expression becoming more crestfallen. “Cleo, wait.” He tried to move past us.
Dex put his hand to Mr. Taylor’s chest to stop him. “The boss has spoken. Leave.”
He looked down at Dex like he might punch him, but he clearly took Cleo’s threat seriously because he turned around and marched off, giving a loud scream when he was near the entryway.
I stood there in shock. “This is all my fault…”
Dex kept his eyes on him until he was out of the building. “No, it’s not. He’s always been a difficult client. We rarely dismiss people, but it happens sometimes. His days were limited anyway.” He turned back to me. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for standing up for me.”
He gave a slight smile. “We have one another’s backs here.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” I looked to where Cleo had disappeared into her office. “She’s really protective. Like a mama bear.”
His smile increased. “Yeah, exactly like a mama bear.”
Over the next few weeks, I started to catch on.
I became more confident in my abilities, started to handle things on my own, established relationships with the clients that made me excited to see them again. Every single one of them was unique and different, having their own quirks and routines, but all of that was much easier to remember once I knew who they were.
I was putting away groceries in the kitchen of one of the residences, referring to the pictures I’d taken on my phone so I would know exactly where everything went because it was important to keep our clients organized. We consolidated things into the same box and took all the extra trash as a courtesy. If we got them more hair products, we threw away the old stuff and took the trash with us. We were supposed to be in and out without them knowing we were there at all—other than the fact that everything was perfect.
One of the difficult parts of the job was the fact that people didn’t really notice perfection. They got used to it. But if something was slightly off, they definitely noticed. So sometimes the feedback could be negative, like if the granola bars were in a different cupboard and it took them a couple minutes to find. They became annoyed at the time they wasted and didn’t hesitate to tell us that.
I was in the kitchen finishing up when I heard the front door open and close. I looked at the time and saw it was too early for Jeremy to be home, but it was unlikely to be Cleo or one of the girls. “Jeremy?”
His footsteps grew louder. “It’s me.”
“I’m just finishing up in the kitchen, and I’ll be out of your way. How was your day?” I started to move quicker, putting things away at increased speed so I could let him enjoy his home without my presence.
“No worries. I’m home early.” He set his satchel on the counter then stripped off his long coat. He was a man in his forties, mostly quiet, living alone after his wife left him to run off with a pool boy she met in Mexico. “Take your time.”
“Thanks.” I continued to work. “How was your day?”
He walked over to his coffee machine and made himself a black coffee. “Ordinary.” He turned around and leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee as he looked at me, his eyes holding a distinct sadness, a gloss of depression. “Yours?”
“It’s been busy.”
“Every time I see one of you, you seem to be running a million miles an hour. It’s never a slow day.”
I chuckled. “We’re little elves even when it’s not Christmas.”
He didn’t release a chuckle and continued to drink his coffee.
I knew I shouldn’t comment on the cause of his sadness, but I felt so bad for him that I did. “I was dating this guy for a while, and it felt right. But a few weeks ago, he told me he was married. Had a family somewhere else. It was…brutal.”
He set down his coffee on the counter and stared at me a little harder. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, it’s rough. I feel stupid on top of it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I know how that is. That old saying, good guys finish last—it’s true. I had a lot of opportunities to cheat on my wife while I was traveling or working late in my office, but I never did. I was happily married, and I thought she was too. But here I am, in my forties, and my wife has decided to take our kids and move to Mexico, to retire with her new man with my money.”
I couldn’t stop the cringe from coming over my face. “Gosh, that’s terrible.”
“Yeah.” A sarcastic smile came onto his lips. “Everyone told me to get the prenup, but I was naïve. Won’t make that mistake again.”
I didn’t have a lot of money, so I had nothing to lose, but hearing all this negative feedback about marriage was scary. Maybe romance and commitment were dead.
“Most guys are the cheating kind, even if they say they aren’t. I’ve got a lot of friends and see a lot of guys in the office. They’ll look you in the eye and tell you they’ve always been faithful, but I’ve seen them snort cocaine off a woman’s asshole. Though there are men who would never do that. I’m one of them. But she left me anyway.” He turned to his mug again and took a drink.
“How long has it been?”
He shrugged. “About three months.”
“You know, I’m sure you could do something about the situation. She can’t just leave the country and take your kids with her.” I wasn’t a corporate lawyer, but I knew a couple things.
“I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “My lawyer says it won’t last, that she’ll be back in a couple months. And then she’ll be out of a job, have less money than she did before, and when I take her to court, I’ll have an even better chance. A part of me is also hoping she’ll come groveling back.”
“Would you take her back?” Would he ever be able to forgive her for what she did?
He dropped his gaze for a while and stared at the floor. “I love her. I was happiest when I was with her, she’s the mother of my kids…”
I couldn’t believe he said that, but it was somehow so touching. “Then maybe she’ll come back.”
He shrugged again before he grabbed his coffee. “Yeah. Maybe.”
I was walking down the hallway toward the elevator when a door opened and Dex stepped out. “I’ll see you later, Max.” He gave a wave before he shut the door behind him. By the change of his tone, it seemed like he was talking to a kid. He was in his signature jeans and t-shirt, his arms looking incredible like always.
“Hey.”
He turned to look at me as he locked the door behind him. “Hey.”
“Were you tutoring?”
“Yep.” He pocketed the keys and came to my side. “The kid is Ivy League material. I know he’ll ace that SAT and get his pick of schools.”
“You’re tutoring a genius like that?” I asked incredulously.
He walked beside me, his mouth widening into a grin. “Ouch.”
“Sorry,” I said with a laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Then how exactly did you mean it?” He stopped in front of the elevator but didn’t hit the button.
Neither did I. “I just can’t believe you’re hot and smart. I mean, how often does that happen?” I didn’t think twice about what I said because there was no way Dex was oblivious to all his qualities. He probably had his pick of any woman he wanted, anytime.
His grin widened, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “You think I’m hot?”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s not do this—”
“Not do what?”
“Where I pretend I don’t notice how handsome you are, and you pretend you aren’t aware of your looks. Let’s just cut the shit, alright. I also think Carrie is hot. It’s not rocket science to know someone is attractive.”
“Okay, hold up.” He raised his hand to silence me then held up a finger. “One, you think I’m hot.” He held up a second finger. “And two, you think Carrie is hot. What are you doing to me?”
I rolled my eyes again, knowing he was joking.
“I know Carrie pretty well, so I could probably talk you up to her if you want…”
“Shut up.” I turned to hit the button on the wall. “You know what I mean.”
“Come on, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”
I noticed that he didn’t suggest the two of us get together, and I felt a bit of disappointment there. He was charming and flirted sometimes, but he never seemed interested in doing something about it. “And you’re nice too. I’ve never met a hot guy who was also nice.”
He shrugged off the compliment before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess I’m a people person.”
“Evidently.” I listened to the mechanisms in the shaft as the elevator moved to where we were.
He didn’t seem to take my compliments seriously, like he understood I was just being candid and nice and not actually hitting on him. Someone like him should be cocky and self-absorbed, but he seemed totally different from the other guys I knew of his caliber. They preferred to talk about themselves all the time, but Dex had an actual conversation with you, and he seemed down-to-earth. “Where were you?”
The Doctor Who Has No Ambition (Soulless Book 9) Page 7