by E. L. Todd
“I love you.”
My eyes flashed open and I leaned back, looking her in the face.
Her eyes were coated with tears. “Sorry it took me so long…”
Not caring about the people sitting in the coffee shop or the fact there was a couple directly next to us, I cupped her cheek and kissed her. The second our lips touched, my body ached in longing. Her lips were soft and full. I remembered the first time I kissed her, and every time after that. Our lips were warm and they burned my mouth with every kiss. When I felt too enthralled and out of control, I pulled away. “About time.”
Chapter Twelve
Roland
“Wait up!” I chased after Nora Pickle, the editor in chief of Knockout. “Just glance at my resume. Please.”
She walked across the lobby, her heels echoing on the floor. “Submit your resume to the human resources department—like everyone else.” She didn’t look at me as she walked.
“I’ve done that ten times,” I said. “No one will even read it.”
“Oh.” She sounded bored. She headed to the elevators.
“Look, I’ve been applying for a job for a year. I’ve applied to every open position available at your magazine. I never get a call back, and I think you’re missing out.”
“We’re missing out?” A slight smile was on her lips.
“Yeah.”
She hit the button and waited for the elevator to reach the lobby.
“I’m a really good writer. Just give me a chance.”
“Where did you go to school?” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared me down, her eyes containing her power.
“Uh…Harvard.” It was only half lying.
“You just graduated?” she asked.
“Uh…no.” Stop asking questions.
She narrowed her eyes. “How do you expect to land a full-time job when you’re still in school.”
“Because I’m not…”
She didn’t look happy. “You’re applying to one of the most respected magazines in the country, and you don’t even have a degree?” She stared at me like I was bug under her shoe. She wanted to stomp her heel down and splatter me.
“I know, but…just hear me out.”
The doors opened. “Good bye, Tim.”
“It’s Roland.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She stepped inside and hit the button.
I pulled out my resume. “Just take a look at it. There’s a flash drive attached to it that contains the books I’ve written.”
Her eyebrow shot up. “You’re a published writer?”
“Well…no.”
She sighed in disappointment and the doors started to close.
I held them open. “You once started where I was. I know you have a thousand people applying for the same job, and most of them are more qualified than I am. I get it. But I’m the person that chased you down every morning just for a chance to talk to you. So please, just look at my resume.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I will consider it.”
That was all I could ask for. I stepped back and let the doors close. When she out of my sight, I sighed in defeat. I’d been rejected from every respectable magazine in the city. If I didn’t find something soon, I’d have to try and find something else. Manhattan was already extremely competitive as it was, and not having a degree was making me slip through the crack. I feared I’d have to turn to my dad for help and admit I failed.
I headed home with slouched shoulders. I knew Nora wouldn’t call me. As soon as she walked into her office, she tossed my resume and the flash drive into the garbage. I didn’t realize life was this hard. How did my grandpa start a company out of his garage? How was anyone successful in this world?
When I walked inside, Mom and Dad were watching TV on the couch. His arm was over her shoulders and she rested her hand on his thigh. Their constant affection was so damn annoying.
Mom spotted me. “How was your day, Ro?”
“Crappy,” I muttered.
Dad nodded to his liquor cabinet. “There’s plenty in there.”
I poured myself a brandy because I needed something to take the edge off.
“Your father was just telling me that Skye is doing a great job at the company.”
“No way,” I said sarcastically. My sister was perfect at everything she did. Ever since we were little, she outshined me in everything. It was annoying.
“But don’t tell her that,” Dad said. “I don’t want her to get comfortable.”
Mom looked at him. “What are we going to do when you retire?”
“I figured we’d move to Italy for a year so we can take a break from our kids.” Dad gave me a knowing look.
“That sounds awesome,” I said. “Retire tomorrow.”
Mom chuckled. “Sean, you’re too young to retire. You would get bored in a few months.”
“Bored?” he asked. “You and I can travel the world.”
“But we’ve been everywhere,” she said.
“Don’t argue with him,” I said. “Just go.” I downed the brandy.
Dad watched me. “You want to talk about it?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
“The job hunt not going so well?” Mom asked.
“No…” I released a defeated sigh. “I’ve applied everywhere. I even hunted down the editors and tried to buy them with coffee and donuts. They won’t even give me a minute of their time.”
“It’s hard out there…” Mom said.
“I could talk to someone,” Dad offered. “I know a few—”
“No,” I snapped. “I don’t want your help.”
Mom spoke next. “Aunt Janice might—”
“I don’t want help from anyone.” I sat down and rested the class on my head, letting the ice cubes keep my skin cool.
Mom and Dad both watched me and dropped the subject.
“Well, you have something at the company if you change your mind,” Dad offered.
I didn’t want it.
***
A week later, I got a call.
“Hello?” I didn’t sound very enthused. It was a number I didn’t recognize, so I didn’t expect an interesting conversation.
“Is this Roland?” Her voice was hard and cold.
I recognized it. “This is he. Whom am I speaking with?”
“Nora.”
My heart stopped beating. I sat up and turned off the TV. “Hello, Nora. How are you?” I was glad I remembered my business manners.
“Do you really care?” She was such a stern woman. She didn’t give bullshit and she didn’t receive it.
“Actually, I do.”
“Or would you rather me skip to the purpose of this call?”
I stayed silent, unsure how to handle her abrasive personality.
“I’m inviting you to an interview.”
I almost gasped. “Really?”
“Yes. I assumed you would hunt me down until I changed my mind.”
“You’d be right,” I said coolly.
“Tomorrow at nine. If you’re even a minute later, don’t bother coming.”
“I won’t be,” I promised.
She hung up without saying goodbye.
I jumped up and yelled. Then I did a victory dance, jumping up and down on the couch.
Mom came down the stairs. “Why are you jumping on the couch?”
“I have a job interview!”
Her face lit up. “Really? Oh, that’s wonderful, Ro!” She came down the stairs then hugged me. “I knew you’d find something.”
“I hope I get it. I can’t stand living with you and Dad.”
She chuckled and didn’t take my words offensively. “We love having you in the house. We’ll be sad to see you go.”
“I won’t be.”
“Let’s go shopping,” she said. “You need to look spiffy.”
I hated shopping. It wasn’t my thing. But my mom was good at it. She bought all of my dad’s clothes and had them fitted. �
��Okay.”
***
I got to the office an hour early just in case disaster struck. I wore a Hugo Boss suit and tie. My shoes were brand new and my hair was styled. I looked like a million bucks. When I looked at myself in the mirror, it freaked me out how much I looked like my dad. It was eerie.
After I took elevator to the top floor, I found my way to her office. Her secretary sat in her desk in the entrance hall, talking on the phone. I kept one hand in my pocket while I walked and tried to act like I belonged there.
Her secretary looked at me. “Are you here for the interview?” She was still on the phone.
“Yes.”
“Sit.” She pointed at a chair.
I did as she asked and rested my ankle on my knee. Then I patiently waited. Thirty minutes went by and I sat absolutely still. I didn’t dare take out my phone just in case I was being watched. This might be the only interview I’ll ever get, and I couldn’t blow it.
The secretary stood up. “Nora will see you now.” She opened the door and waited for me to walk through.
I casually walked inside then heard the door close behind me. The office had floor-to-ceiling windows behind the desk. Her back faced the view of the park. A large mahogany desk took up most of the room. Bookshelves were on either side, and two armchairs faced the desk.
Nora finished making a note then looked up at me. “Sit.”
I approached her desk and extended my hand. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Sit,” she repeated. She didn’t take my hand.
I did as she asked and tried to ignore how harsh she was. I’d never met someone so cold and unwelcoming. But calling her out on her rudeness wouldn’t get me what I wanted.
“The reason—only reason—why I’m seeing you is because of this.” She held up my flash drive. Then she picked up my resume. “This, on the hand, is pure garbage.” She tossed it in the trash.
I didn’t know what to say so I rested my hands in my lap.
“Why didn’t you finish college? You only had a year left.” She spoke to me like she was interrogating me, not initiating a friendly conversation with me.
“I didn’t want to work in business.” I looked into her eyes while I spoke, refusing to let her intimidate me.
“You could have changed your major.” Annoyance was in her voice.
“I didn’t want to start over.”
“So you thought it was better to waste three years of your life and a hundred thousands dollars in tuition money?” she asked incredulously.
“I thought it was better to pursue my dream,” I said coolly. “I already know how to write. I don’t need a bachelor’s degree to show it.”
“Well, I do.” She played with the flash drive in her fingers. “This is all you?”
“A hundred percent.”
“Creative writing is a lot different than journalism.”
“I promise you, I can write an article as well as a novel.”
“Why don’t you just write novels instead?”
“I need to pay the bills.”
She continued to touch the flash drive. “So, you don’t intend to make this your career?”
“I do,” I said. “I can only write so many words a day. And most people can’t make a living as a writer.”
“You mean none, actually.”
It was hard to hold my tongue and not snap at her. She was extremely unpleasant. While she was pretty for an older woman, she was so rough around the edges I didn’t want to get near her.
“I’m intrigued by your style and ability. That’s the only reason we’re speaking. And I’m willing to offer you a position.”
Seriously? “You’re giving me a staff writer position?” It was too good to be true. I couldn’t believe my stories were landing me a job.
“No. You will be an assistant to one of my staff writers. You will help him write articles and edit his work. You will fact check, get him coffee, and do whatever the hell he asks you too. When I feel like you’re a good fit and can handle that, we’ll discuss letting you go on your own.”
I was disappointed that I was being offered an internship but I’d take anything at this point. And it sounded like I wouldn’t be working for her, so that was something to be thankful for. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer.”
“And you accept?” she asked.
“Of course I do.”
“It’s an unpaid internship.”
I wasn’t surprised. “That’s still a generous offer.”
She studied me for a moment, waiting for me to give her attitude. “Welcome aboard.”
I stood up then extended my hand again. “Thank you.”
“Be here tomorrow at eight. Heath will be waiting for you.”
I dropped my hand since she obviously wasn’t going to take it. “Have a good day.”
“Good bye, Roland.”
I walked out and waited until I was at the street to finally breathe. I had a job. It didn’t come with benefits and I’d be someone’s bitch, but it was still a start. And I did it on my own. I didn’t need my dad’s influence or his money. I only needed me.
Chapter Thirteen
Arsen
Ryan came every week like he said he would. He usually brought food and snacks. I always thought he wouldn’t show up, would realize spending time with me was pointless, but he kept coming back.
The guard handcuffed me to the table then walked away.
“I hope you like pumpkin pie.” Ryan pushed it toward me.
“I love it,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Janice made it. She’s a pretty good cook.”
“Then why did you get her that cookbook for Christmas?” I teased.
“She still has room to learn.” He rested his elbows on the table. “So, how’s prison life?”
“Nothing fancy,” I said. “Food tastes like shit.”
“Well, make that pie last.”
“I would but if I don’t eat it right away, the guys will steal it.”
He nodded. “Tough life.”
I shrugged. “It keeps me in shape.”
He told me about the shop and how he bought a new building in Times Square. He was expanding his business so his son could take over. It amazed me that he started off with nothing and created his own wealth, and he managed it still doing what he loved.
“How’s Silke?” A part of me wanted to know about her, and another part didn’t.
“She’s…hanging in there. Slade has been spending time with her, taking her to the movies and out to dinner. I think that’s helping. And her girlfriends have been doing things with her.”
“I’m grateful.”
“She’ll get through it. She’s a tough girl.”
I adjusted the cuffs. “Does she…hate me?”
“No,” he said simply. “She never could.”
“Does she talk about me?”
“No.”
I suspected she wouldn’t.
He pulled out his phone. “Slade sent me this picture. They were out to dinner and he wiped spaghetti sauce all over her face then took a picture.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Can I see it?”
He handed it to me.
Silke entire face was red and her hands were trying to wipe it off. She looked pissed—really pissed. It was nice seeing her face. I missed those eyes, those lips. I stared at it for a while before I reluctantly handed it back. “Thanks. They confiscated my phone so I don’t have any pictures of her.”
He opened his wallet then handed me a picture. “You can have this one.”
I picked it up. Silke stood in her cap and gown in front of the building. She was smiling but it was forced. I knew she was miserable because I left her. But it was better than nothing. “Thank you.”
“Sure.”
I stuffed it inside my jump suit so I could hide it under my pillow later.
Ryan watched my face. “Anything new?”
Silke’s father was nicer to me than I deserved. Th
e time I visited him was what I looked forward to all week. It was nice to talk to someone who cared about me. He made me feel better about myself, made me believe someone cared about me. And he reminded me of Silke.
I wondered if he knew the truth about my daughter if he would still see me. Keeping it from him made me feel dishonest. I wasn’t a good person, and he had the right to know that. “I appreciate you checking on me all the time, but there’s something you should know about me…”
“I’m listening.”
“Five years ago, I knocked up some girl.” I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. The more he was nice to me, the more I felt obligated to be honest with him. He shouldn’t waste his time with me if he didn’t respect me. “I took off because I didn’t want to be a parent. I kept tabs on them but didn’t step up and take responsibility for what I did. I’m a coward…”
Ryan stared at me but didn’t say anything.
“They live in New York now.”
“Why did you keep tabs on them?” he asked.
That wasn’t the reaction I expected.
I shrugged. “I wanted to make sure they were alright.”
“Because…?”
“I don’t know…”
“You cared about them.”
I fidgeted with the handcuffs.
“Why weren’t you involved in your daughter’s life?”
“I knew I would be a terrible father…”
“Do you still think that?”
“Well, I’m sitting in prison…”
Ryan didn’t react.
“When I get out of here, I want to start over. Hopefully, I can find a job somewhere and save some money. And then I can go to her and…try to be in her life. If her mother lets me, of course.”
“I was hoping you would say that.”
I looked forward to the moment when I could hold my daughter for the first time but I always feared it. What if she hated me? She should. I abandoned her for so long.
“Why did you tell me that, Arsen?”
“It’s what I’m most ashamed of. I just wanted you to know…”
“Because you think I’m going to stop coming because I judge you.”
I didn’t respond.
“If you told me you had no regrets and you never wanted to be in her life, then maybe I would stop coming. I wouldn’t want you anywhere near my daughter. And maybe I would have stopped caring. But you don’t strike me as that kind of person. If you were, I doubt my daughter would love you.”