Chapter 23
“Good morning, Jeff. Hey, is that a new tie?” Leo waves to the smiling stranger in the lobby as we wait for the elevator.
“Good morning, Francis. Your hair looks nice today. Hey, thanks for getting me that report last week on such short notice. Your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed.”
I look up at him in confused bewilderment and almost don’t recognize him. Rather than the uptight boss, dressed to the nines in a suit, Leo stands beside me in a casual navy polo shirt and dark gray khaki chino pants that hug his ass in all the right places. Not to mention his signature early morning scowl’s been replaced with a smile.
A smile.
I’ve seen him flash those pearly whites at least three times, making it an all-time record high. And he’s chatty. I think he’s managed to greet everyone he’s seen within a ten-foot radius with some kind of personal message. It’s like he’s done a complete one-eighty, although I don’t even think he’s aware of it.
I think he’s just in a good mood.
I guess finally having your dick sucked after a long hiatus will do that to a man.
Don’t get me wrong; I had my theory that all he needed was to get laid, but I had no idea it’d have this much of a change on him. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen him take a single antacid since last week.
I knew I was a miracle worker. I happen to believe that a good orgasm will solve most of the world’s problems, but nobody listens when I tell them that.
The elevator dings its arrival, and we step inside. Like every morning, I turn to face the window as we climb up the building, giving me the best view of the falls below.
“I never get tired of that view,” Leo sighs. “It’s certainly not a bad way to start your morning.”
He sips his coffee from his favorite mug he brought from home, making a sound of satisfaction. I could be mistaken, but I could’ve sworn I saw him add a spoonful of sugar to his cup as he made mine.
So, orgasms and a touch of sugar are all it takes to keep the curmudgeon at bay. I’ll have to make a note of it, should anyone need it after I’m gone.
My stomach drops at the thought of leaving, making the pancakes I had for breakfast churn in my belly—another surprise from Leo. I swear he told me he wasn’t a morning person, but I guess only under the right circumstances …
“You coming, baby?” he says it like he’s repeating himself, holding out his hand for me.
I take his hand and let him lead me through the office.
Baby. Baby girl. Brat. I’ve never had a pet name before. I could get used to being treated so … how is it that he treats me? He’s bossy and domineering one minute, scolding me and completely annoyed, and the next, he’s taking off my shoes, making me breakfast, and surprising me with coffee.
I can never keep up, but I love it all the same, the way I feel like I’m the center of his universe, like he’s thinking of me at all times, even when he’s supposed to be working. I see it in the way he looks at me, like I’m the only one in the room, like he’d move mountains just to give me a better view of the moon.
No one has ever given me so much attention. Not my parents … and certainly not anyone I’ve ever dated.
Maybe it’s because I was born a twin, but even as a small child, I felt like my parents’ love was divided between us rather than multiplied.
But not Leo. Leo treats me like I’m the only woman to have ever existed, giving me his full attention. Whether he’s annoyed with me or comforting me, everything he does is with intention. And when he looks at me, it’s like he actually sees me for who I am. The only other person in the world who’s ever understood me was my sister, and it’s not exactly like she had a choice; we shared the same womb after all.
It’s like the universe decided to play some kind of cruel joke, giving me everything I never knew I wanted at the worst time imaginable, making me choose between honoring my sister’s memory and whatever this is.
As if there’s even a choice. A fresh pang of grief smacks me square in the chest as I realize how badly this could end. Because the only thing worse than walking away from someone you care about is having them ripped away against your will.
I don’t think I’d survive losing anyone else, and I can already see the writing on the wall of where this is headed, but for the life of me, I can’t make myself stop. Not before I have to.
Maybe I’m a sadist, or I just have an affinity for the drama of it all, but either way, there’s only one way off this train, and I’m not ready to take that leap just yet. So, instead, I’ll enjoy my distractions while I still can because if losing my twin sister taught me anything, it’s that life will knock me down soon enough.
“Hey, Ricky. How was your weekend? Did you get any projects done?” Leo asks as we pass Ricky’s desk.
He glances up, looking confused, and I give him a slight wave. “I, uh … yeah. I finished changing the entire fleet’s costumes from orange to blue. And I spent a little time in my garden.”
“That’s great. I’m glad you were able to make time for doing what you love. It bleeds over into your work—that’s what my dad always says anyway.” Leo rubs a thumb along the inside of my wrist, like he can’t help but touch me.
“Everything okay with you, boss? You’re not firing me, are you? Because I’m really sorry about the whole … well, everything that happened the other night. I got carried away, but I promise it’ll never happen again?—”
Leo holds up his hand. “Forget about it, Ricky. I know I have. Besides, maybe it just means we need more social events. Let’s not wait so long before we do something again, okay?”
“Who are you, and what have you done with our boss?” a woman asks from behind a pile of file folders on her desk.
Leo lets out a laugh. “I’m the new and improved Leo Kingsley, at your service. Get used to it. Things are going to get a lot more fun around here.”
“Well, damn, who knew all this time, all he needed was steady sex?” someone whispers.
“Right?” another whispering voice agrees.
“I heard that,” Leo says loud enough for everyone to hear, and the chatter goes silent as he leads me into his office, where he doesn’t immediately pull the shades.
Like everyone else, I stare at him with my mouth agape, wearing a look of utter confusion.
He pulls up the big chair beside his desk chair and takes a seat. “Are you going to stand there with your mouth hanging open, or are we going to finish planning this festival?”
Don’t get me wrong; I like the grumpy curmudgeon Leo, but this guy right here is taking my attraction to an entirely different level.
Seeing the way he handles his work with such attention to detail and professionalism, how competent and smart he is, always asking the right questions … and his charisma … it’s no wonder the man’s has a shot at becoming the next CEO. People practically throw themselves into action as soon as he asks them to do something; everyone’s always so eager to please him.
And it isn’t hard to see why.
As much as I love to get under his skin, it’s the way he looks at me after I do what he asked—like remembering to pack my inhaler when I leave the house or keeping my shoes stored in the designated shoe basket he bought just for me—that makes me feel so appreciated. I feel so supported and seen, and I know I could try anything, and he’d still be standing on the sidelines, cheering me on.
I could get used to having someone look at me like that, like he’s proud of me. It makes me want to do more positive things, like plan for my future.
For the first time in my life, I’ve found myself actually considering what I want to be when I grow up, as if I’m not the twenty-two-year-old adult who’s been living on her own for the last four years, all while working odd jobs to pay for college classes and picking up the tab for my mother’s medical bills.
I know I signed a contract to work whatever hospitality job they need me to do when I get to Romania, but maybe I can pick an area to specialize in and see where it takes me.
I’ve never been picky before, always taking whatever job paid the best while giving me the most freedom, but now, I’m starting to wonder if that was just me wanting to avoid the commitment of having to stick to only one thing.
I don’t like being tied down to any job, anyplace, and certainly not to anyone … do I?
Maybe I don’t know anymore. It’s not like I have to decide either way. The decision’s already been made for me in the form of a list, scribbled in pink marker by a teenage girl. That list is calling the shots, and I carry it in my overall pocket, right next to my heart, as a constant reminder.
“It looks like you two have been busy,” Frank says as the board meeting comes to an end.
I look down at my page of notes—or the page of doodles in the place of the notes I was supposed to be taking. I guess I was daydreaming just now.
It was just a financial something anyhow, not anything to do with me … unless they discussed the budget for the festival, which is directly related to me. Oh well, I’m sure Leo took his own notes.
“We’ve nailed down all the food vendors and invited all the top-rated food trucks in a hundred-mile radius, and I’ve ordered enough apple butter for everyone who buys a ticket to have as a free gift.” He wraps his arm around me. “Actually, that was Ivy’s idea.”
Frank just smiles as he looks at Leo with a newfound appreciation, or maybe he’s also thinking the same thing everyone else is. Either way, it’s like the worry he’s been carrying around for his son melts away, making the lines on his face disappear.
“I’m so proud of you, son. Proud of you both actually. Keep up the good work. I can’t wait to hear what else you’ve got planned for this year’s Phantom Fest.” And then he turns to leave.
I spin to face Leo, who looks so relieved, so happy that he’s almost unrecognizable, and it’s crazy to think that I somehow had any part of making that happen. For the first time in my whole damn life, I finally recognize this invisible feeling I’ve been chasing.
It’s purpose.