Thursday Afternoon Page 10
“Perfect timing.” He opened the door wider, and I stepped inside the foyer. He took my coat and hung it up. As I looked around, it was clear that no expense was spared in this home, and I was only looking into the sitting room. “Come on back.” He motioned as I followed behind him, unable to resist the urge to rub my hand up the beautiful mahogany banister. The kitchen was just as I expected—a chef’s dream, subway tile backsplash, marble countertops, and top-of-the-line appliances.
“Here you go.” I handed him the bottle of wine and he placed it on the counter. “The food smells delicious.”
“Thank you.” He flashed me a warm smile.
My attention was quickly diverted from getting lost in the beautiful expression adorning his face when Jack and Macy entered the kitchen.
“Hey, Jack!” I exclaimed, reaching down to pat Macy on the head while her tail wagged uncontrollably.
“Hi.” Jack bashfully smiled, climbing up on a stool and taking a seat at the island.
“Have a seat, Bree,” Simon suggested, handing me the glass of wine he had just poured.
“Thanks.” I took it from his hand and pulled out a stool, taking a seat next to Jack. “So, how’s Macy doing?” I asked Jack as Simon turned around, tending to something on the stove.
“She’s good. She ate one of my daddy’s shoes this morning.” Jack smirked, trying to hold back his laughter, but it didn’t take long before we were both giggling in unison.
Simon turned around and shook his head with a small smile etched across his face.
“You’re not in the dog club until something of value gets eaten.” I raised an eyebrow and took a sip of wine.
“I want to bring her to school for show and tell tomorrow, but he won’t let me,” Jack whined.
“Why not? Hannah loves dogs.”
Jack gasped and covered his mouth. “Sister Hannah,” he corrected.
“Oops, sorry. Sister Hannah,” I rectified.
“You’re not helping my case, you know?” Simon lectured.
“Sorry.” I shrugged with a culpable smile.
After a delicious dinner of chicken Milanese, stuffed artichokes, and pasta primavera, we hung out in the living room, watching television. The doubts I had from earlier had fully diminished. I was thoroughly enjoying my time with Simon and Jack. I felt like a normal person who didn’t have to let their profession define them.
Simon took Jack upstairs and put him to bed after he fell asleep on the couch. As I waited for him to come back down, I got up from the couch and examined the pictures lining the mantle. Most of them were of Jack at different milestones in his young life, but the one that caught my eye was the gorgeous couple on their wedding day—Simon looking like his normal handsome self, and his wife, who was just as expected…absolutely beautiful: stunning blue eyes, long blond hair, and a wedding dress that looked like it was designed just for her body. It was all too sad to think that Simon was now left without a wife and Jack would really never know his mother because of this tragedy. I turned around and pulled it together upon hearing Simon heading down the stairs.
“Fast asleep?” I redirected my thoughts as he entered the living room.
“Passed out.”
“Jack was always a little cutie, I see.” I turned my attention back to the photos.
“Yeah, he was.” He forced a smile, leaving me unsure if I should remark on his wedding photo or not.
“She was beautiful, Simon.” I decided to go for it.
His smile faded. “Thank you,” he whispered.
An awkward silence loomed, and I immediately regretted my decision.
“Thanks for not being afraid to acknowledge her,” he continued, easing my mind a bit. “Everyone seems to feel like if we don’t talk about it, then it never happened.” He took a few steps and moved closer to the photograph, picking it up to examine it closer. “But it did.” His voice faltered as he placed it back down.
“Yes, it did, and that’s a reality you have to face every day, like it or not, but it’s also a reality that some people don’t like to discuss because they’re afraid it may cause you too much pain. But deep down inside you’re screaming to release that same agony they’re trying to prevent.”
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. The crackling flame dancing in the fireplace was the only sound to be heard. “How do you know that?”
My gaze dropped to the floor and I whispered, “I just do.”
“Who was he?”
I shook my head, still unable to look at him.
He moved closer until we were only inches away. “Who was he?” he repeated, tilting my chin, forcing me to look at him. There was something so soothing and trusting in his beautiful, soulful eyes that made me willing to divulge the world to him.
“Who wasn’t he?” My voice cracked. “He was my best friend, my boyfriend, and the one person who ever understood me.”
“What happened to him?”
My throat swelled and my stomach twisted. I wasn’t ready to do this. Five years, and I still wasn’t ready. “He died.”
“And you’re carrying guilt because of it, the same way I am over my wife. Why?” He was persistent.
“I-I don’t want to—”
“You knew exactly how I was feeling, so I know you’re feeling the same way. I’m the last person who would ever judge you.”
“I know you wouldn’t. I’m just not ready to talk about it.”
His fingertips caressed my cheek. “Maybe someday,” he whispered.
I nodded and closed my eyes. His warm, soft lips skimmed my forehead and I pulled him near, wanting to feel him closer to me. Needing to feel him closer. Our lips met and our tongues intertwined. My hands worked feverishly through his hair, and I felt like I couldn’t get enough of him. We eased ourselves down to the floor, never breaking our kiss. The heat coming from the fireplace was no match for the intensity between us. He pulled my sweater over my head, and removed my bra as his lips trailed down my neck, finding their way to my breast. I closed my eyes, wondering why something that was so wrong had to feel so right. He unbuttoned my jeans, and I knew if it was going to stop, it had to end now.
“Simon,” I whispered.
My resistance weakened when he lifted his head, casting a strong gaze upon me.
“What are we doing?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed.
I sat up, grabbing my bra and sweater from the floor, and didn’t waste any time dressing. The last thing I wanted was to have a momentary lapse of reason and find myself back in his arms again.
He sat up next to me and raked his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry…I think.”
“Look, Simon, I had a really nice time tonight, but I should have never agreed to come.”
“Why not?”
“Because, you are my client.”
“Okay, and I socialize with my clients outside of work all the time.”
I couldn’t help but crack a smile over his reasoning. “You and I both know that your clients and my clients are two very different types.”
He stared straight ahead and nodded in frustration. “Well, what if I enjoy spending time with you outside of our working relationship?”
I didn’t know how to answer that, because the truth was I enjoyed spending time with him as well. “Simon, I never did anything like this before, because I never—”
“You never what, Bree?”
“Have you forgotten the whole reason why you hired me? Because you didn’t want any feelings involved,” I answered for him.
“No, Bree, because I didn’t think I could have those feelings again, but—”
“Don’t say it, Simon. Please don’t.”
“Why?” He shook his head. “Because then it would make it real, and then you would have to confront exactly how you’re feeling for me? I like you a lot, Bree, I’m not gonna lie.”
“And I like you too, but it’s not like we can ever have a normal relationship. Besides, you deserve someone way bet
ter than me.”
He shook his head. “Why are you always so hard on yourself?”
“I don’t know, why do you think?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Then why do you do it if it makes you think so lowly of yourself?”
“Because it’s all I know.”
“Oh don’t give me that bullshit!” His voice rose. “I’ll give you a job right now working for my company. You know there are other options. There always are.”
My frustration was mounting. I was tired of feeling the need to constantly justify my career choice to him and Hannah when they both were the ones who had approached me because of that career choice. I didn’t need their lectures. “Maybe for the same reason you sought out my services—to never have to feel emotions again.” I stood up and grabbed my purse. “You found me, Simon! I didn’t go looking for you. I am who I am, and I’m sorry if you or anyone else can’t accept it. Now can you please get my coat?” My voice cracked with emotion.
He let out a frustrated breath before getting up and walking over to the closet to get my coat. “Bree, I’m not putting you down. I just wish you could see what I see in you.”
I took my coat from him and put it on without saying a word.
“Don’t leave like this. Can you at least let me call you a cab?”
“It’s fine, Simon. I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”
“What did you do wrong?”
“Coming here tonight. Getting to know you more than I should have. Pushing myself into your life and your son’s life.”
“Bree, you didn’t push yourself into my life. I invited you into it.”
“But that’s just it. I should have known better than to accept that invitation. I broke the rules.”
He shook his head in confusion. “What rules?”
“My rules, Simon. Thank you for dinner, it was very kind of you. I’ll see you on Thursday. If anything changes between now and then, please call Margo.”
“Bree—Why the hell are you acting this way?”
“I’m not acting any way, Simon. This is me. The real me.”
I reached for the door, but he grabbed my wrist first and pulled me into him. “It’s not the real you, it’s just someone you’re hiding behind because you don’t believe in the person you are deep down inside.”
The truth in his words was more powerful than a blow to the face, so potent that I had to look away, shielding myself from displaying my tears to him. “I have to go.” My voice cracked. I yanked my wrist from his grip and walked out the door. I wanted to tell him he was right. I wanted to tell him I was feeling the same way for him as he was for me. But most of all I wanted him to know that I wanted to be that girl he saw when he looked at me, but I just didn’t know how.
Chapter 18
I muddled through the week, trying desperately to get Simon off my mind, but the more I tried, the harder it became. I was resenting my other clients and hardly putting any effort in during my time with them because I was consumed with thoughts of him. With each passing minute, I found myself wishing away the week for Thursday afternoon. I hated the way we had left things the other night. I needed to talk to him, and in exactly twenty-four hours I’d get the chance to do so. I still wasn’t sure what I’d say to him, but anything was better than what was said the other night. I was such a cold-hearted bitch to him. He didn’t deserve that treatment—especially not from me.
Margo had been in super-bitch mode herself ever since I refused to escort Senator Stevens to his event. Now she had summoned me to a meeting, and I could only imagine what I was in for.
“Come in.” Her voice was stern when I tapped on her office door.
Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for what was about to come. She was deep in thought, glaring at something on her computer screen, once again looking her best in her black-and-white polka dot crepe blouse that was undoubtedly made by Saint Laurent and had probably cost more than the average person’s weekly paycheck. Her blond hair, which was normally slicked back in a chic ponytail, fell just above her shoulders in a sleek bob with not a hair out of place. I took a seat in front of her desk, waiting for her concentration to break from whatever was fascinating her on her computer screen. Making me wait was her way of letting me know she still had all the power.
She took a deep breath and pushed her trendy tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of her nose. “There’s going to need to be some schedule adjustments.” She finally spoke.
“Okay. What kind?”
“For one, I’m going to need for you to take on a few extra clients.”
And here we go…again! “Margo, we’ve had this conversation before, and I told you—”
She put up her hand to stop me. “Bree, all of the other girls are pitching in to help out, so why should you be any different? Not to mention, you’re the one whose clients are dropping like flies.”
“One client, Margo! Darren!” I huffed.
“No, dear. Two clients.”
“Two?” I pinched my eyebrows together in confusion.
“As of today, Mr. Grace no longer requires the services of our agency.”
My eyes widened. I tried my best to not show my disappointment to Margo over the news, but I knew I was failing miserably. A sheer sense of satisfaction washed over her face. She was clearly taking delight in my trouble over the whole situation.
I cleared my throat, trying to pull it together and act as if it didn’t bother me. “Okay, did he say why? Was it something—”
“No,” she cut me off. “Just that he no longer needs our services. Maybe he found a girlfriend.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for my reaction.
I looked away, trying to imagine my Thursday afternoons without him.
“So I’m going to need you to take Senator Stevens from Kylee. I have a new Wall Street banker, very powerful, very rich, and not too bad to look at either.” She winked. “He’s interested in looking at what we have to offer, and I’m going to suggest you.”
I watched her lips moving, but I wasn’t comprehending anything else she was saying. All I could think of was Simon. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Even if it was for the best, it was just so hard for me to imagine not seeing him anymore.
“Hello? Earth to Bree.” Margo waved her hand in front of my face.
“Oh I’m sorry—what?”
“I’m interviewing a new girl next Tuesday. Struggling actress. She’s young, beautiful, gorgeous body. I think she’d be a perfect fit for our agency. She’s a little nervous and has lots of questions, so would you mind sitting in on the interview to put her mind at ease?”
Another victim. How lovely. “Yeah, sure. What time?”
“Ten a.m.”
I nodded and pulled out my phone, putting it into my calendar. “Are we done?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Are we?” She clenched her lips and narrowed her eyes.
“Well, I have nothing more to discuss.”
“Then I guess we are.”
I got up and wondered if Margo had always been so evil or if I was just starting to notice it. I was growing to dislike her more and more each day, and wasn’t sure how much longer I could conceal the way I was feeling.
“Oh, and, Bree,” she summoned just as I was reaching for the door. “Senator Stevens has another fundraising gala Friday night to which you will be escorting him,” she sneered. “Have a wonderful day.”
My dislike for her turning to pure hatred.
I waited until I stepped outside to try and gather my thoughts over what had just taken place inside and all of her new demands she was placing on me. But none of that seemed to matter. The only thing I cared about was Simon. Another goodbye left unsaid. I was angry at him for not giving me a chance to explain myself and even angrier at myself for feeling like I needed to. For one brief second I thought about calling him and asking him why, but then thought better of it. I was the one who’d laid out the rules to him the other night of how it had to be, so I had no righ
t to call him and send mixed signals. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, biting on my lip until the metallic taste of blood covered my taste buds. It was for the best. We were getting too close. I wasn’t any good for him. I told myself those things over and over again, trying to ease my doubts and frustrations. I was a businesswoman after all, and I wasn’t going to cave over one bad deal. Simon had done the right thing by canceling our business deal. I should have been the one to do it first instead of crossing the line further and further each time we were together. Yes, it was for the best. To prove to myself that I was serious about it, I pulled his number up in my contacts, looking at his name one last time before deleting it from my phone—reminding myself of who I really was, and not that person he made me feel like I was whenever I was with him.
***
After Margo texted me earlier in the day to tell me that Senator Stevens preferred red, I made a point of wearing my short lacy navy blue dress. My anger over the whole situation grew during the cab ride to the hotel at which the gala was being held. I still didn’t understand why Kylee wasn’t going instead of me. It was her client. It was so apparent why: it was Margo’s way of showing me that she was in control.
I stepped out of the cab, looking around at the handful of people standing in front of the hotel, hoping that Senator Stevens was one of them because I didn’t have a clue as to what he looked like.
“Bree?” a voice beckoned in the distance as a dark-haired man who looked a little older than I was approached me.