by Lindsey Hart
He nearly grinned when Chantara pushed open his office door without knocking. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him with the evil eye. That girl was a force to be reckoned with. He was glad that Callie had someone like Chantara in her corner.
“I know what you’re doing, Matt Hilbert. It’s not going to work. I am not going to tell you anything. Anything at all. I’m here to help you catch up on your emails and all that, but you are not going to get anything else out of me.”
He stared at her flatly, so composed that he could see the very second she began to doubt herself and her outburst. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He could see he wasn’t going to get answers out of Chantara right away. Neither of the women knew that he knew that they were more than work acquaintances. He’d have to work her up to it, cajole and maybe even plead and then, after all of that, he’d convince her that he genuinely cared about Callie. Because he did.
And then, hopefully, because it truly was his only hope unless he wanted to break into HR and steal Callie’s file and find her address, Chantara would tell him where her best friend lived.
CHAPTER 16
Callie
Life without a job turned out to be not so great. There wasn’t ever really a time in her life when Callie didn’t have somewhere to go. She’d always given proper notice, her two weeks, and then gone straight to a new job.
She felt horrible, listless, lacking energy. She couldn’t get out of bed and then when she did, there was nothing to get up for. She dreaded the fact that it could take weeks to find another job. She’d already spent two days with her laptop open on the kitchen table, checking the job sites every few hours. Not that there was much else to do.
Finally, mid-afternoon, Callie forced herself into the shower. She emerged feeling slightly better, but no more hopeful. The apartment was quiet. Way too quiet. Whoever thought sitting around home all day was a good idea- well- it wasn’t her. She couldn’t imagine this being her life.
Everyone else was at work. Her family. Chantara. All her other friends. Short of going out and doing a few errands, meaning aimless shopping, which she couldn’t really afford to do without a job, there wasn’t much to do but turn on the TV and stare at the screen blankly or pick up a book and read it without really reading anything at all.
Since the whole getting out of the house seemed like a better idea, and she had a full tank of gas, Callie was just picking up her car keys when the buzzer sounded through the apartment.
She jumped, nearly sending her laptop flying off the kitchen table. It’s the middle of the day. It’s probably just someone with the wrong apartment number. That happened occasionally. It wouldn’t be Chantara. There was no way she could lose her key. It was attached to the same ring as her car keys. It wouldn’t be anyone else she knew or even the mailman since he always just put a slip in the box and never bothered with ringing anyone to deliver packages. People in the building complained about that all the time.
Callie waited, her keys in her hand, her purse on her shoulder. She was sure that whoever was down there would figure out they had the wrong number and the buzzer wouldn’t sound again. She was wrong. The buzzing ripped through the apartment, shrill and annoying, three more times.
“What the hell?” Callie muttered under her breath. “Seriously? Take the hint already.” Whoever was down there clearly wasn’t in tune with her mutterings, because the buzzer rang another four times. “Unbelievable!”
Callie stalked over to the intercom panel and pressed the TALK button down hard, so hard, that her index finger stung. “Hello there,” she said in a tightly controlled voice. It would do no good to scream into the thing. “I think you have the wrong apartment.”
There was a second’s pause, then a deep voice drifted over the speaker, crackly because the thing was a piece of shit, but unmistakable. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I have the right one.”
Callie nearly fell over. “Matt,” she breathed before she thought better of it. She realized she was still pressing the button down and he could hear her.
“Yeah,” the answer drifted back. There was a hell of a lot of snapping and crackling mixed along with his heavy breath.
“What- what are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”
“Are you going to let me come up? I just want to talk.”
“No. Not a chance. How did you get my address? If HR gave it to you, I swear that I’m going to file a-”
“They didn’t. It was Chantara who gave it to me.”
“What?” She nearly died of shock. There was no way in hell her best friend would have given Matt Hilbert their address, not knowing fully well that Callie never wanted to see him again. He’s lying. “Look, I don’t know how you really got my address, but I don’t want to see you. I thought that was pretty clear.”
“Quitting your job isn’t the answer.” There was more static and crackle. “Will you please just let me in? If you don’t, I’ll stand our here for the rest of the afternoon ringing your buzzer.”
Callie considered how angry the neighbors would be if that happened. The walls were paper thin and there was no doubt they could hear the buzzing. She knew it wouldn’t be long before someone was banging at her door asking why it was so hard to obtain a few minutes of peace and quiet.
“I’ll call the cops if you do that.”
“No, you won’t.” Even past the static, she heard the smile in his voice. It annoyed her that he sounded like he was laughing at her.
“I will! I’m going to call them right now.”
“No, you won’t. Now, will you please just let me in so we can talk? Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for and then I’ll leave.”
Callie hesitated. She didn’t want Matt there. She didn’t want to see him again or talk to him again. Liar. Yes, I do. I want to see him more than anything. She hated that. She hated that it did something to her stomach to recall his face, that her skin burned with the feel of a touch she’d never forget, that her lips tingled and her legs suddenly felt like water and her stomach hollowed out and that throbbing was back in all the wrong places. He’s dangerous. This isn’t right. It was never right. She knew that, but she’d done it anyway. Now, I have to clean up the mess. She thought she’d done her damage control by resigning from her job, but clearly not.
“Fine,” she ground out. “Five minutes and that’s it. If you aren’t gone by then, I’m locking myself in the bathroom and I really will call the police.”
“Alright. Deal. I’ll start timing myself the minute I walk through the door. No, wait. That’s hardly going to work. I’ll set the timer on my phone from the minute we start talking because you need to hear what I have to say.”
Callie really doubted that she really did need or want to hear what Matt was going to tell her, but her finger moved, pressing the button that released the front door lock. He’s probably just going to come up here and try and convince me that what I did with him wasn’t a mistake. Or that I don’t need to feel ashamed about it. Maybe no one has ever left him before. Maybe he just wants to have the last word. If that was true, she could deal with that. Even if he tried to come up and change her mind, she could deal with it, because she knew that there was no changing her mind. She might want to have a repeat of that night with Matt, minus the end when she told him things she shouldn’t have, but it was never going to happen. The sex might be good, but that didn’t mean anything. Well, it shouldn’t at any rate.
She flew around the apartment, straightening things up for the few minutes it took Matt to walk up four flights of stairs and knock on the door. There were still dirty dishes in the sink and the kitchen was a mess, but she couldn’t do anything about that. At least the living room was kind of clean. She’d steer him there.
Callie pulled open the door, annoyed that Matt wasn’t even breathing hard after that long walk up. He wouldn’t have taken the elevator. She knew that because the damn thing was out of service at the moment with no
signs of being fixed despite the hazard it caused for those living on the upper floors.
“I was just about to go out,” she admitted. “So, you had better really only take five minutes.”
“Going to another job interview?” He looked her up and down and she burned under the intensity of his gaze.
“No,” she mumbled. “Not in jeans and a sweater I’m not.”
“You never know. Some people don’t require a formal setting or attire.”
“Still. I would at least wear black pants. Even if they were yoga pants.”
Matt got this funny look on his face and she realized he was probably imagining her in yoga pants, which would undoubtedly be tight and outline the curves of her ass and the shape of her legs. I’m an idiot.
“Anyway…” Matt stepped in. He glanced around and slipped out of black leather shoes that were so expensive they probably cost more than her share of the monthly rent.
“Yeah, I know it’s not a nice place. You don’t need to tell me that or comment on the overall shittiness of it or how much worse it is than your place or how shocking to find out it is that you had relations with someone who is clearly so out of your income bracket.”
A wry smile slowly spread across Matt’s face. Lord, he’s handsome. Far too handsome. Why does he have to look so good? She didn’t dare breathe in. She knew exactly what he’d smell like. God, she knew what he tasted like. Everything had changed between them. I’ve had him inside me. It just proved she was right in quitting her job. There was no way she could work with him after what they’d done.
“I wasn’t going to,” he assured her. “If you’re done trying to push me away, there is something I really want to tell you.”
“If you came here to try and convince me to take my job back, that’s not going to work.”
“Nope. Not here for that either. HR is already trying to find a replacement. I don’t think they’d give you your job back even if you asked nicely.”
“Oh.” Callie felt strangely deflated. She hadn’t been hoping for her job back, but it hurt, when it really shouldn’t, to hear just how loud and clear that door slammed in her face.
“Can I sit down? Will you offer me a glass of water?”
“No. I- you can sit, but I’m not giving you a drink. I don’t work for you anymore. I don’t have to wait on your every need.”
He nodded. “Alright. That’s settled.” It was unnerving to see that though he kept a straight face, his eyes sparkled like he was laughing at her on the inside.
Callie turned and led him past the kitchen with the overflowing sink of dirty dishes, hoping he didn’t look in, to the living room. She pointed at the couch, which was a sectional she and Chantara got for free. The bonded leather had peeled away in spots, so they’d devised a system of old quilts to cover it. Through careful tucking and continuous adjustment, the blankets stayed in place. It actually looked kind of cool, in a really shabby sort of way. At least the thing was comfortable.
Matt sunk down without a second glance at it. He didn’t look around the living room, at the vintage oil paintings or the area rug or the small TV and beat up stand. He didn’t stare at the coffee table, which had been repainted but was badly in need of another coat. He waited until Callie sat, a safe distance away. His gaze remained fixed on her.
She wanted to squirm under the heat of his stormy eyes, but she didn’t. She remained seated, back straight, hands tucked between her legs.
“So, set that timer.” She didn’t know why she was being rude. It’s a defense mechanism.
“I don’t need to set it.”
“Yes, you do. You said you would.”
“I know, I said I would, but I don’t need to. What I have to say won’t take me five minutes.”
“Alright, spit it out then.” She held his gaze, even though she wanted to look away, at anything else, anywhere else. Her stomach hollowed to the point where it felt like she might have eaten bricks for breakfast. Or glass. Or a damn lead pipe.
“I came to tell you, that what you told me a few nights ago… you need to forgive yourself. You won’t be able to let it go until you do. Even if you move on, it doesn’t mean you have to forget. It doesn’t mean you have to stop loving- what you lost. You can be happy if you give yourself permission to. It wasn’t your fault. You need to believe that and embrace it. I know why you told me. It was because you never thought you’d see me again. You felt safe in that. I know you haven’t told many other people. So that’s the only thing I can figure. It wasn’t that you trusted me. It’s that you wanted to get it out because you thought it would make you feel better. My guess is it didn’t. Because you need to forgive yourself and you need to give yourself permission to be happy and embrace life.”
Callie had no idea what she looked like on the outside, but she knew she was a damn mess on the inside. Inside her head, she was screaming. She was screaming and wailing. She was drowning. Drowning in grief. Drowning in guilt. The fact that Matt got it so bang on, what she’d done, astounded her. She was ashamed to admit that she thought he was just some spoiled rich kid who liked to fuck pretty women, who of course fell all over him because he was attractive and had money. And occasionally, he liked to take down his secretaries, because that also somehow fit with the MO. I was wrong. I was so wrong.
Instead of admitting it though, it was easier to lash out. It was easier to drive him away. Callie blinked back the tears burning up the underside of her eyelids. She swallowed past the massive lump in her throat.
“What do you know about embracing life? You’ve had everything handed to you. Everything was easy for you. Women, people, they were just conquests. Yeah. I know about you. I know about your reputation. I was warned off. Don’t think I ever took it seriously. I knew you wouldn’t stick around. I wanted to keep it professional, but you wouldn’t let me, and you got what you wanted. I think that’s probably enough, isn’t it? You don’t have to feel bad for me. You don’t have to show up here like some fucking knight on a white horse and tell me everything is going to be okay. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that obvious, so I’ll make it clear now. I’m fine. I’m going to be fine. Telling you did help me that night and I am moving on.”
Matt never broke eye contact. He stared at her and the seconds ticked by in painful, horribly awkward silence. “Okay.” He stood slowly.
Callie didn’t dare move. She barely dared to even breathe. She wanted to take back her angry outburst. What she wanted to do was cry. She wanted to release that flood of tears that she’d never truly let herself cry. Not over the loss of her child. Not over Ben leaving her the night before their wedding. Not over her family. She wanted to let go and just weep like everyone else. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t okay. That she doubted she’d ever be okay. She wanted to tell him she was sorry and that she knew he was just trying to help. He’s the first person I’ve wanted to tell. The realization shook her. She hadn’t just told Matt that night because she was never going to see him again. I wanted to tell him. She couldn’t even begin to process what that meant. Especially since Matt was already halfway across the living room.
She thought about him leaving like that, silent, just slip into those expensive shoes and let himself out and that she’d never see him again. The pain that blossomed in her chest was violent and not completely expected. When she actually allowed herself to feel, it really did hurt.
Matt turned and their eyes locked. Can he tell? Can he tell how much I really don’t want him to leave? She’d never tell him. She’d never let him know. In her experience, opening yourself up always meant getting hurt. Trusting someone always meant being betrayed.
“You know, Callie, not everyone is like Ben.”
He left her with those words, softly spoken, but they echoed through the apartment like a yell. Just like the sound of the door quietly closing at the entrance was as loud as a clap of thunder.
CHAPTER 17
Matt
As soon
as Matt walked into work the next morning, he knew he was in for it. Chantara sat ready and waiting behind the desk that used to be Callie’s. She eyed him up under half-closed lids as he walked by, scowling fiercely. The minute he made it into his office, she darted in behind him.
“Literally what the hell? I gave you Callie’s address because you said you wanted to make things better. You told me that you cared about her.”
Matt sighed. He hefted his bag onto the desk. He didn’t sit. He thought it was better if he remained standing so Chantara couldn’t look down and rain insults on him. Not that he didn’t deserve it. Because he fucking did.
“Look,” he tried to explain. “I’ve been playing it over and over in my head. I… I thought if I spoke to her that things would be okay.”
Even to him, his words sounded pathetic. What he thought was that they’d reach a resolution, tearful on her part, where she said he was right, thanked him for his insight and agreed to see him again. I’m an idiot. He cursed himself for actually expecting it to happen, as though thinking it would make it true. What transpired was obviously not the scenario he’d played out in his head. He’d only made things worse.
“And obviously it wasn’t. I came home last night, and she had locked herself in her room. She said she didn’t want to talk, but I could hear her crying. I know you went there yesterday, as soon as I finally gave in and gave you the address. She never came out once. I’ve never seen her do anything like that, not even when Ben left.”
That choice bit of information hit Matt right in the chest. He felt more than winded, he was floored. “I- I’m sorry. I really did try to talk to her. I wasn’t mean or anything.”
“You and your kind have a different way of being mean.” Chantara glared at him fiercely.
“My- my- kind?” he stammered.