“He’s so broken,” she said, putting a hand over her heart. “I totally get what you see in him.” She texted: But now?
Sebastian: I’m realizing I’m not the man I was before.
Erica wiggled her eyebrows. “I hope he doesn’t mean the elevator no longer goes to the top floor.”
“His elevator?”
Erica motioned toward her crotch. “You know—his elevator. How disappointing would that be for someone who hasn’t had sex in—”
“Mom, I’m hungry,” Kevin said, and I went three shades of red.
“Me too,” Tyler added.
“We just ate,” Erica said.
“I’m growing.” Kevin flexed both arms like a bodybuilder.
Tyler mirrored his stance. “Me too.”
“I’m doing something important for Heather. Go play. We’ll go home in about fifteen minutes, and I’ll feed you again, I guess.”
Appeased, they trotted over to where Charlotte and Ava were playing.
“They’ll never make it fifteen minutes. We’ll have to do this fast. Now where was I? Oh yeah, we were hoping all his parts were still functioning.”
“You were hoping,” I corrected.
She rolled her eyes. “Honey, we don’t have time to work through your chronic denial syndrome. I need to think up the perfect answer.”
“You could ask him what that has to do with me having a child, because I doubt he’s talking about his elevator.”
“Good one.” She texted: What were you before?
He answered: Kind. Funny. Hopeful.
Erica: Then life dick punched you.
I gasped. “I would never say that.”
She shrugged. “If he’s afraid of the word dick, he’s too uptight to be any good in bed anyway. Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
Sebastian: That’s exactly what life did. And I didn’t handle it well. When I met you I thought I was ready to care about someone again, but I don’t want you to get hurt if I realize I have nothing left to give anyone.
Erica: Why did you bring up that I have a child?
Sebastian: Because she’s important. You look so happy together. I don’t want to be what changes that.
Erica: Then don’t be an asshole.
I nodded. “I would actually say that.”
Sebastian: You make it sound so simple.
Erica: It is. Listen, we all have shit to deal with. I’m not perfect. You’re not perfect. My daughter is a priority, but let me worry about protecting her. I like you and I do want to have sex before I’m fifty. So step up or step off. Your move.
Erica tossed the phone back to me. “Bam, and that’s how it’s done.”
“How what’s done?” I read over her last message and shrank a little in embarrassment. “He’s not answering, and I don’t blame him. Erica, I had already tried being obvious. Remember?”
She held up her hand and studied her nails. “He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I can’t believe I let you text him.” I shook my head, read all the messages over again, and shook it again. “You’re right, though. It’s not like there was anything to lose.”
“So should I pick up Ava from school tomorrow? How long does first-time sex take? God, it’s sad I don’t remember.”
“Sure,” I said with heavy sarcasm. “Pick Ava up because he’s scrambling to find a way to get back here so he can whisk me off to his bed.”
Erica gave me a look. “Beds are so overrated. Don’t be afraid to get a little creative.” She motioned toward my lap. “And I don’t know what’s going on down there, but you might want to consider trimming or waxing or something.”
“Like into a little heart?” I was joking.
“Start simple,” she said seriously. “Work your way up to shapes.”
I flexed my shoulders. “Just because there haven’t been hikers in a while doesn’t mean I’ve let the path become overgrown.”
Erica hooted with laughter.
I joined in briefly, then sobered. “Okay, answer me this one. If you think you’ve got him hot and bothered enough to fly back—why didn’t he even answer?”
“Because,” she said, then lowered her voice, “his next move will have nothing to do with talking.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
* * *
HEATHER
Before work the next morning, I changed my outfit twice. My first choice had been the most practical: skirt and blouse. No different than how I dressed any other day. I’d pulled my hair back in a bun, applied light makeup, and reminded myself that my life was already amazing.
My second outfit was a little black dress I intended to mostly conceal with a conservative jacket. If Sebastian showed up that day, I could slip the jacket off and say, “Oh, this old thing? I just threw it on because it was in the closet.” It didn’t match with my hair pulled back, so I released my curls and shook them out. I was in the middle of applying what the tutorial video described as a smoky eye when Ava walked into my bathroom and asked if it was dress-up day at my job.
“No, honey, I’m trying out a new look. What do you think?” I applied both fake eyelashes, then turned to her. “Do you love it?”
She made a face. “You don’t look like you.”
That was the point. “It’s still me, just me with makeup.”
Her nose wrinkled, and she shot a thumbs-down at me. Not exactly a confidence builder. I took a long look at myself in the mirror and decided she was right—that wasn’t me. A few swipes of makeup remover and I was ready to start again.
Ava joined me at the mirror. “Can I do your makeup?”
I glanced at my phone for the time. “Oh, honey, we have to get you off to preschool and me to the office.”
“Please.” Those damn blue eyes of hers. When she turned them on me in a certain way, I couldn’t help but melt.
“Let me change first,” I said. The dress wasn’t me either. I donned my usual attire again, but this time I impulsively layered in a pair of lavender lace panties and a matching bra. Not for Sebastian, I assured myself. For me. Sexy came from within, or so the articles I’d read myself to sleep with the night before said.
Man or no man, from now on I’m going to always “kick it” beneath my work clothes.
Ava was still in my bathroom when I returned. She’d organized my makeup and lowered the toilet seat cover. “Please sit down,” she said.
I sat.
She looked me over. “Welcome to Ava’s Salon. Do you want half of your face done or the whole thing? I’m the owner.”
“Hello, Ava,” I said as if speaking to an actual salon owner. “My name is Heather. What is the difference between a full or half?”
“One eye or two.”
“Oh. Then the whole face, please. I need to match.”
She nodded. “Close your eyes.”
I did. This wasn’t our first makeup session. Ava loved to apply it—to me, to herself, to her dolls. We’d all been customers at her salon before.
“All done. That’s one million dollars.”
I laughed and opened my eyes. “Wow, that’s quite a price hike.”
“I used special eye shadow. With glitter. Glitter is expensive.”
Yes, that was what I’d told her many times when she’d poured it too generously on an art project. She handed me a mirror. My eyes had definitely acquired a sparkle—so had parts of my cheek. I tried to wipe some of it away, but the glitter only seemed to multiply and spread onto my hands. Looks like one more face wash for the road. I checked the time. We were still okay.
“I love it.” I handed her an imaginary stack of bills. “One million is a bargain. Thank you.” I stood and began to wet a washcloth.
Her bottom lip jutted out, and her hands went to her hips. “You can’t wash it off.”
“Oh, Ava, I can’t go to work like this.”
“Yes, you can. You’re the boss.” Those big eyes again. Dammit.
I almost said I wasn’t worried about my clients whe
n I stopped myself. Hang on one dang minute. If I weren’t secretly hoping to see Sebastian that day, what would I have done?
I would have kept the damn glitter on and laughed with Teri about it.
The glitter stays.
I crouched down to her height. “Just this one time. Now let’s get going or we’ll have to eat in the car again.”
“I like eating in the car,” Ava said.
“I know, but I’m a better parent than that,” I joked, but the humor was lost on Ava. Single parenting had its ups and downs. On one hand I didn’t have to justify any of my decisions to anyone. On the other hand, there was no one there to share the wonder of the early years with. One day, probably before I was ready for it, Ava would be applying her own makeup and thinking more about her friends than about what I looked like.
One day the bathroom salon would close.
“Don’t forget Erica is picking you up today. You get to have dinner with her tonight.”
“Yay!” Ava did a little dance. “Can I sleep over?”
“No, honey, it’s a school night.” And I’ll probably be eating dinner right beside you at Erica’s. I blushed when I remembered Erica’s question about how long first-time sex took. Honestly, I couldn’t remember either.
Thirty minutes?
Fifteen?
If he even shows up.
I checked my phone. No message.
He’s not coming. I’m torturing myself over nothing.
I should have just said yes to Levi.
No, the only thing worse than no sex was mediocre sex.
“Mom, can I take these to school? We have to bring one hundred things, remember? It says one hundred on the box.” My delightful little daughter was waving the gift Erica had brought me the day after my date with Sebastian.
I snatched the box of condoms from Ava. I’d stashed them under the sink next to the smaller pack I’d bought myself, completely not thinking that Ava kept her extra salon supplies down there. Okay, breathe. “Yes, that does say one hundred, but Mommy needs these for . . . work.” I walked to the kitchen and stuffed the box into my oversize purse.
That bottom lip stuck out again. “Then can you send Cheerios? I need them.”
“Of course.” I poured a bunch of Cheerios into a plastic baggy, checked the time, saw we were running late, and poured more. God, I hoped it was a hundred. As I did it, I remembered doing something similar earlier in the year. “Are you sure you need these? I thought we did this in February.”
Ava shrugged.
I felt horrible that I didn’t know. I went through her backpack and looked over my stack of papers from the teacher. Nothing. “I don’t have a note saying you need a hundred things.”
Ava’s eyes widened. Her hands splayed at her sides. “We learned to write one hundred yesterday.”
“Okay.”
“And we counted to one hundred.”
“Gotcha. Take the Cheerios. If you don’t need them, use them for snack.” There probably was no note. Ava just liked to count to one hundred.
My cheeks warmed. But there would have been a note had she made it out of the house with her first choice.
That would have been bad.
Ava looked up at me with sad eyes. “Are you mad?”
“No, honey. Come on. I have an apple, yogurt, and a water for you. We’re eating in the car.”
“Your face is red.”
“I just don’t like being late. Let’s go. Grab Wolfie.”
She returned with him and we were out the door.
Her with Cheerios she probably didn’t need and me with a lifetime supply of condoms I definitely wouldn’t.
A short time later, as I walked past my secretary’s desk, she joked, “Hot date?”
I tripped and came to a spinning halt. “What?”
She pointed toward my face. “You’re all glittered up.”
I took a calming breath. She didn’t know anything about the conversation I’d had with Sebastian the day before. I laughed with relief. “Ava.”
“I figured. It looks cool, especially with your hair down.”
“Thanks.” Forcing myself into a lighter mood I struck a pose. “You should see what’s underneath.”
Teri gave me a look, then turned away.
I dropped the pose. I hadn’t meant that the way it had sounded. “Underwear. Just nice underwear.”
Teri looked up from her computer. We had another one of those awkward moments where I felt like I should apologize but was pretty sure I’d cross a whole different line while doing it. I hurried into my office before she asked why my purse was bulging.
We hadn’t had embarrassing conversations before Sebastian.
After an initial period of disappointment when he didn’t call, I hoped I would soon go back to normal. Several of my clients were on edge because of the announcement that Romano Superstores had been approved for construction.
I sat down at my desk, dropped my purse into the deep drawer on the side of it, and turned on my computer. One hour became two as I lost myself in work.
“Knock, knock,” Teri said from the door. “There’s someone here to see you. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” I smoothed my hands down my skirt and stood. It’s not him. It’s not him. Don’t get all excited. It’s not him.
The man who filled my doorway was well dressed, clean cut, but no, not Sebastian. I did, however, recognize him. “Mr. Bhatt, come in.”
“Call me Rakesh. Thank you for seeing me, Miss Ellis.”
“Heather, please.” I moved to the front of my desk. “Why don’t we sit down?” We each took a seat in front of my desk. I took a moment to appreciate the contrast of his brown skin, dark hair, and light-blue eyes. Truly a handsome man who looked about my age.
So why did I feel nothing?
Where was the zing?
I didn’t like what that said about Sebastian, because I didn’t want him to be special. All he’d done since I’d met him was insult and disappoint me.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely accurate.
He’d taken care of me when I was sick and could kiss me right out of my clothes, but that didn’t make him any more suitable for me than any other professional man.
Like this one. I looked him over again.
Nothing.
I did note, though, that he seemed agitated, and I realized he’d said something while I wasn’t paying attention. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Could you repeat that?”
He braced himself with a hand on either knee. “It wasn’t easy to come here.”
I didn’t gossip, but that didn’t mean I was deaf to what others said. If the rumors of his financial situation held any truth, he was probably asking for advice on how to avoid bankruptcy as his company dissolved. I could see how that wouldn’t be easy.
But why come to me? Surely he had lawyers and accountants of his own.
I waited.
He continued, “You’ve been seen in town with Sebastian Romano. Do you know him well?”
Warmth spread up my neck. Depending on if his source mentioned seeing me inside or outside of the restaurant, they would have given him a very different account. “We’ve recently become acquainted.”
Rakesh said, “If I had any other recourse, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Okay.”
“I have people relying on me—my parents, my siblings, my employees. With Romano Superstores getting the okay to build, there is nothing to stop him from putting my entire family out of business.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” I really didn’t know what else to say.
“Perhaps you could speak to him, convince him to give us a little more time. I can’t fail now, not while my father is so ill. The doctors say he may have only a month left. The last thing he sees before he dies cannot be his legacy being torn down.” Tears filled the man’s eyes, and he leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve made peace with a buyout, but not yet. Just not now while my
family is losing my father.” His intense sorrow showed in his eyes when he looked up.
I fought back my own tears. “I wish I knew Mr. Romano better. If I did, I would take your request to him, but . . .”
“I understand. I shouldn’t have come here. My father is a proud man, and I used to be. Funny how quickly pride became unimportant when the doctors told me he was dying. I’ve tried everything I know, pulled in every favor owed to me. All I want is for them to not start to build until my father passes. I know the fight is lost. I don’t have the resources to win against a man like Romano.”
“Have you contacted him yourself?”
The man’s face tightened. “Yes. Empathy is not his strong suit.”
My heart was aching for the man before me and confused by the one I’d hoped to hear from that day. “If I hear from him again, I’ll talk to him about your situation. He may not care what I think, but I’d like to believe compassion for a fellow human would have him hold off for a bit on building. It’s a business, though, and he has people to answer to as well.”
We both rose with a handshake. “Thank you,” he said. “Even though coming here changed nothing, I needed to know I had done all I could.”
“I understand.” I walked him toward the door.
He nodded at Teri and left without saying another word. I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, then reached for a tissue off her desk. After blowing my nose, I asked, “Is it possible to like someone, hate them, want to sleep with them, and also want to throttle them all at the same time?”
Without batting a lash, Teri picked up her phone, pressed a button, and said, “Erica’s on line one in your office.”
I nodded and chuckled. “You called her? Good choice.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
* * *
HEATHER
Later that day, I munched on a chicken salad sandwich at my desk. Speaking to Erica always made me feel better. I told her she didn’t need to pick Ava up, but she said the kids were looking forward to the playdate, so I told her I’d put in an extra hour at work, then head over to have dinner with them.
The Broken One Page 14