13. Mary
Chapter 13
Mary
Why does him leaving make me wish he would come back? Every time, Connor manages to leave me flustered and confused. I don’t know how to read him or his intentions.
No. I got what I wanted. He’s gone.
With a deep breath, I smooth my clothes and head out the door. I can’t focus on Connor now. I have work to do.
But every word spoken during the meeting becomes background noise as I try to understand what transpired earlier. I can’t even stalk him back because he’s a ghost. There is no social media or anything about him on the internet. After the meeting, I head back to my office. I need to keep busy and not let my thoughts stray to those intense eyes, that crooked smile.
Why does he still have this effect on me? I wish I could just ignore him and everything he stirs up because, somehow, he’s gotten under my skin again, making me obsessed .
Hours tick by without notice until darkness eventually falls outside my window. Only then do I realize how late it is. This time, Connor didn’t write me, to remind me to go home. Is he busy?
I glance at the camera. Is he not watching?
Don’t care, I’m outta here. I grab my bag and jacket and sprint out of the office, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone. All I want is to get home and curl up on the couch with a glass of wine and forget this entire day ever happened.
As soon as I step through the front door of our apartment, I kick off my heels and let out a long sigh, leaning back against the door. The space feels hollow and empty. Just me and these blank walls.
I head to the kitchen, dumping my purse on the counter. Looks like it’s ramen night again. As the noodles simmer, I scroll mindlessly through social media on my phone, liking photos of people I barely know.
Photos of happy couples at restaurants, group shots of friends at parties, and highlights of lives that seem full and connected. I slam my phone onto the kitchen counter and pour myself a generous amount of red wine into a glass.
Screw it, I deserve this after the day I’ve had.
Taking a long, indulgent sip, I let the familiar warmth spread through me, easing some of the tension in my muscles. I close my eyes. His face, his voice and his touch, it’s all burned into my memory .
“Fuck you, Connor Milton.” I take another gulp of wine. “Fuck you and your stupid, perfect face.”
The bubbling of the ramen makes me look up, and I mix in the salty seasoning. When it’s done cooking, I move to the couch with the steaming bowl in one hand and my wineglass in the other, curling up between the soft pillows and a blanket.
I eat methodically, barely tasting it.
Can’t wait for Gem and Lil to finally move in here.
The shrill ring of my phone startles me from my brooding. I peek at the caller ID and groan.
“Hi, mom.”
“Mary, I’ve been thinking about your situation.”
Situation? Is that how we refer now to my lack of a husband? Well, I did get some kind of marriage proposal today, right?
“Great.”
There’s a pause, during which I imagine her fidgeting with her pearls and pursing her lips. “Grandchildren someday soon would be great.”
“Can’t we talk about this… I don’t know. In 10 years?”
“Now, don’t start. We both know you won’t find anyone suitable on your own.”
I give a noncommittal grunt.
Undeterred, she continues, “I arranged another blind date for you, darling. He works at a prestigious law firm downtown and is very successful. His name is Henry, and he’ll be here Friday night at seven o’clock. ”
I stifle a sigh, poking at my cooling ramen. How many versions of Henry has she set me up with over the years? Smart, accomplished, handsome, on paper, at least. And without fail, wrong for me.
“That sounds great, Mom.” I inject false enthusiasm into my voice. “But I have a business meeting that night.”
“Mary.” Her tone sharpens. “We’ve talked about this. You’re nearly thirty, and a woman in your position needs to consider the future. I’ve been patient, but it’s time you started making the right choices. Your biological clock is ticking, dear.”
She doesn’t have to spell it out.
My inheritance. My career. Dad’s company. It all hinges on me making the ‘right’ choice for a husband.
All the old arguments rise in my throat, but I swallow them back down. It’s pointless. She won’t hear me.
“I know. Send me his contact and I’ll find another time with him, okay?”
A pleased note enters her voice, and I can practically hear her preening over my acquiescence. “Fine. But don’t think I won’t notice you slacking.”
“Yes, mom.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
As soon as I hang up, I drop my head into my hands.
Another damn blind date. One more dinner with another empty suit, pretending to be interested. The well-dressed, perfectly polished men she picks never fail to leave me cold. Our worlds are too different. They just want a pretty trophy on their arm, a way to get their hands on my family’s company.
One more evening of making nice to keep Mom and Dad happy.
When will Mom get it through her thick skull that I don’t need her meddling in my love life? I’m doing just fine on my own, thank you very much.
Well, maybe not totally fine. Chris ghosting me like that still stings. One minute, we’re having this insanely hot, intimate night together, and the next, he’s vanished without a trace, leaving me with nothing but a vague ‘I’m sorry’ note. Dick move, Chris, dick move.
And now... this broody man has stormed into my workplace and thrown me off balance again. He’s arrogant, stubborn, and impossible to read. But when he’s close, all my defenses crumble, and he can see every part of me.
Unnerving is what it is. And hot. Can’t forget hot.
I take another swig of wine straight from the bottle, not bothering with the glass anymore. Who needs manners when you’re drinking alone on your couch, drowning out thoughts of the men who just can’t seem to stay out of your head?
Stupid, perfect face. Stupid bedroom eyes. Stupid cocky attitude that makes me want to smack him… or rip his clothes off.
My phone buzzes, jarring me from my thoughts. Probably, Mom following up about Fancy Lawyer Guy. I almost ignore it, but something compels me to check .
Connor: Rough day at the office?
I blink at the screen, warmth blooming in my cheeks. Does he have surveillance on me 24/7, or what?
Mary: You could say that.
The typing bubbles appear almost instantly.
Connor: I can think of a few relaxing activities if you’re up for it.
I nearly choke on my wine. Is he…?
I groan and turn off my phone screen, getting ready for bed. As I crawl under the blanket, my phone lights up with a new message.
Connor: Good night, Blue.
Blue.
Mary: Do you ever sleep?
Connor: Not when I’m thinking about you.
My heart races. This guy just doesn’t quit. There’s no mistaking the implication behind those words. I shouldn’t encourage this. But right now, I almost don’t care. For the first time in forever, I don’t feel so alone.
My fingers hover over the keyboard as I try to figure out how to respond.
He’s an employee, for god’s sake. And not just any employee. The guy who’s supposed to be making my dad’s company more secure and not the one getting into my pants. Why can’t I just get him out of my head?
But another part of me... that reckless, thrill-seeking part… is intrigued. Turned on, even. Make the dream a reality .
Screw it. I’m too riled up to sleep anyway.
Mary: Is that so? And just what kinds of thoughts are keeping you up at night, Mr. Milton?
I hit send before I can overthink it, my pulse thrumming in my ears. Something about Connor brings out that rebellious side. The side that loves testing boundaries.
Connor: The kind that would make you blush. Unless you’re already thinking about it yourself, Blue.
I actually do blush. He really doesn’t pull any punches, does he?
Mary: What if I am?
Connor’s typing bubbles appear, disappear, and then reappear, and he takes his time crafting a response.
Finally.
Connor: What about your boyfriend?
Connor: Chris?
The mention of Chris is like a bucket of ice water being dumped over me, snapping me out of the heated daze I’d fallen into.
Chris. The sweet, charming guy who swept me off my feet with romantic gestures and intimate promises. The one who took my virginity and then vanished like a ghost, leaving me with nothing but a cheap ‘I’m sorry’ note. Not my proudest moment. Getting played like that, I let myself easily fall for his lines. I believed there was a genuine connection between us.
Mary: You know what? Never mind. This was a mistake. Goodnight Connor .
Not in the mood anymore, I set my phone face down, cutting off any further conversation. I’m tired. Bone tired and deflated. Turning off my bedside lamp, I curl up under the covers, wishing I could turn off my thoughts.
My phone vibrates again, but I roll over to face the other way. Connor. You seem close but are so far away. Just like in college.
Minutes tick by as I lay there, my body tense. My phone buzzes again.
With a huff, I grab it to shut off the ringer, my eyes catching his latest messages.
Connor: I’m sorry.
Connor: Blue?
I’m in the wrong. I invented my boyfriend, because who are we kidding? Who would want to be my boyfriend?
Chris took my virginity, only to disappear the next morning without explanation. Connor appeared out of nowhere at my job with his intense stares, loaded comments, and blatant flirting. What is it about these two that makes me toss all reason and logic out the window?
Feeling alive for the first time in forever.
It’s terrifying. And thrilling. And so damn complicated.
I want something real, something that lasts. Is that too much to ask?
Mary: I’m sorry. Good night.
Connor: Good night, Blue. Sweet dreams.
Sleep. That’s all I want right now. I switch my phone to silent and place it face down on my nightstand with finality .
With a groan, I shove my head under my pillow as if I can block out the world and all its confusing men.
Part of me wishes I could let go, stop overthinking everything, and enjoy the moment. But the cautious, guarded part of me wins out. I can’t afford to be naive, not after what happened with Chris.