Chapter Nineteen
Victory
I pedal the spin bike faster, pushing myself harder for the last two minutes of my forty-minute ride.
It’s Wednesday morning, and I’ve been at the gym since five thirty.
Working out is the only thing that loosens the painful barbs in my chest, my constant companions since Friday evening.
I haven’t heard from Wells. I also haven’t slept and have barely eaten, and in an effort to outrun the heartache, I dove back into the familiar and buried myself in work.
Apparently I’m a glutton for punishment, because I’ve also spent far too much time looking at the memories we’ve collected in that cheap little treasure box with the neon print on top.
Sweat drips down my face as I climb off the bike.
I grab my towel and wipe it away. My phone chimes with a message, sending my heart into a torrent of hope, guilt, and worry.
Hope that it’s a text or a WordLink invitation from Wells, guilt for the selfish thought, and worry because Leni’s wedding is this weekend, and I fear Wells will text to clarify that I’m no longer his date.
I wouldn’t blame him, but I don’t know if I can take seeing it written out like that.
I don’t know how I’ll face him at the wedding without falling apart.
And to top it all off, I’ve been avoiding Seth, which further breaks my heart.
But I can’t think about him without thinking about Wells.
I snag my phone from the holder on the bike, and the barbs in my chest tighten at the sight of another email from my London office. Of course there isn’t anything from Wells.
Why would there be? I hurt him too badly. I hurt both of us.
I’ve wanted to call him a hundred times, but how can I?
What am I going to say? You’re right? I’m not ready for us?
I don’t want to say that. It’s not what I feel.
I’m crazy about him. But maybe I’m also a little crazy in general, because when he suggested we stay at my place, I couldn’t fathom the idea of bringing him into Harvey’s home.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to, or I don’t want him.
Ugh. I do sound crazy.
Someone taps my shoulder, drawing me from my unhappy stupor. I pull out my earbuds and turn around.
“Are you done with the bike?” a younger, bright-eyed blonde asks.
“Yes, sorry. Just give me one sec.” I wipe down the bike, and I can’t help thinking that Wells should be with someone like her. Someone younger, who doesn’t have a late husband living in her heart…or her home. “It’s all yours.”
Saying those words shouldn’t hurt, but in my messed-up head, I imagine saying He’s all yours , and that pain is too much to bear. I put my earbuds in and scroll to “Zombie” on my playlist, turning it up loud as I head to the treadmill, hoping a run will make it easier to breathe.
My day is packed with meetings, phone calls, and putting out fires.
It doesn’t help that my thoughts churn like the agitator of a washing machine, whipping and shifting as I struggle to focus.
Just when I think my head is clear enough to get through whatever meeting I’m in or task I’m working on, my thoughts drag me back to Wells.
In dire need of caffeine, I head to the break room. As I fix myself a cup of coffee, memories of breakfasts with Wells play in my mind like a montage. Images of him stealing a piece of fruit off my plate, flashing that coy smile, and that spark of heat in his eyes tug at my heartstrings.
“There you are,” Padma says as she walks into the room.
Those words whisper through my mind in Wells’s deep voice, bringing back the heart-melting way he looks at me when he says it.
“Time to recharge.” Padma grabs a mug from the cabinet and looks at me curiously. “You okay?”
No. I hate feeling like this.
I manage a smile. “Yeah.” Grasping for something to take my mind off Wells, I say, “I’m hearing great things about our new staff from M&O. How did the department meeting go this morning?”
“It went well.” She pours herself a cup of coffee. “The managers are up to date, and the reports look good. It was a smart move bringing them in-house.”
“We never make dumb moves.”
“Cheers to that.” She takes a sip of coffee, and we walk out of the break room together.
“I wanted to talk with you about—” Her cell phone rings.
“Sorry. I’m waiting for a call from Marco.
” Marco is the director of accounting, and he’s out of town this week.
She glances at the screen, and her brows pinch.
“If you need to take it, we can catch up later,” I say as we pass another employee and exchange smiles.
“No, it’s fine.” She sends the call to voicemail. “It’s just Corbin.”
“I thought you got rid of him weeks ago.”
“I did. But I ran into him last weekend and I didn’t want to be rude, so we talked over a drink. Now he’s like a cat who refuses to find a new home. Story of my life, right?”
“You just haven’t met the right person yet.” The blond she went out with a few weeks ago ended up being a dolt.
“That’s what I keep telling myself, but I’m not getting any younger. You were so lucky to have Harvey. They don’t make guys like him anymore. He knew how to treat a woman.”
“Yes, he did.”
“There should be a test men have to pass before they’re allowed to date,” Padma says. “I swear men these days are clueless about chivalry or even reading a room, for that matter.”
My mind skips back to Wells. He has chivalry down pat, putting himself between me and the street on our walks, opening doors, asking if I need anything, and he is a master at reading any room.
Especially the bedroom . A wave of longing moves through me, dragging me deeper into the ache of it.
I miss waking up with him as much as I miss our talks, playing that silly game, and exploring the city together.
“You and Harvey were so well suited for each other,” Padma says. “That’s what I hope to find. A once-in-a-lifetime love.”
“You will,” I say absently, my thoughts turning to Harvey. He was a once-in-a-lifetime love. But can there be more than one kind of love in a person’s lifetime? My thoughts stumble. Love? Am I really asking myself that? My pulse quickens. How did we get here so fast?
“My mother says I lost my chance at love when I chose work over Nevin,” Padma says, bringing me back to the moment.
Nevin was a man she dated when she was in her twenties.
He proposed and she turned him down to focus on her career.
“Maybe I should just stop looking. Men are more trouble than they’re worth. It’s not like I want to have kids.”
That maternal pang that has been hitting me harder lately, the one that felt like it swallowed me whole in Baltimore around all those children at the aquarium, rushes in.
“I don’t need a man in my life, right?” Padma says.
“I don’t think any woman needs a man in their life, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting one,” I say as much for myself as for her as we walk into my office, and find Yvette putting something on my desk.
“There you are,” Yvette says.
My chest constricts. I wonder if it would raise eyebrows if I ban that phrase from the office.
“I was just leaving these for you.” Yvette picks up papers from my desk. “I know tonight is your scouting night, and I realize you might already have artists on your schedule, but my friend turned me onto this guy who’s a musician and a performance artist, and he’s playing tonight at the…”
As Yvette goes on about the artist, my heart sinks.
Scouting night . I was so worried about what everyone here who knew Harvey might think of me if they found out I was seeing Wells, I let them believe I was scouting talent on Wednesdays and Fridays.
Not that there’s anything wrong with seeing Wells, but this was Harvey’s company, his legacy, and I didn’t want to do anything that might tarnish it, like giving people a reason to start talking about me behind my back.
That stops me cold, and reality steals my breath.
In an effort to protect the reputation of Harvey’s legacy and maybe my own ego, I’ve become a liar— even to myself —and I hurt the best man I know when he’s done nothing but be patient and kind and wonderful.
Shitshitshit .
“I emailed you a list of his social accounts and links to some of his videos.” Yvette holds the papers out to me. “I also printed out these articles about him.”
My thoughts are reeling, and I’m fighting the urge to run as far and as fast as I can, the same way I struggled after Harvey’s death—which makes no sense, since it feels like there’s an elephant sitting on my chest making it hard to breathe. I take the papers. “Thanks.”
“He sounds great,” Padma says as Yvette leaves my office.
I didn’t catch half the things Yvette said about the artist, and I couldn’t focus right now if my life depended on it. But then I remember Padma was there for a reason. “You had something you wanted to talk to me about? Was it important?”
“I just wanted to ask how your breakfast with Mary Denson went yesterday.” Mary was one of our newer agents.
“It was great. She’s jumped in with two feet and already has meetings lined up for the rest of the month.”
“She reminds me of you when you first came on board,” Padma says. “Nothing could stop you. I remember warning Harvey that you were going to ruffle feathers.”
That gets my attention. “You never told me that. Did you think he shouldn’t have hired me?”
“No. I wish he could’ve cloned you.” Padma laughs. “Once you set your sights on what you wanted, you never backed down, and you didn’t give a hoot about what anyone thought along the way.”
We’ve never talked about how my relationship with Harvey came to be, and I have to ask, “Are you talking about Harvey or clients?”
“Both, I guess. You were a force to be reckoned with for your clients, and that lit a fire beneath the butts of some agents who were getting too comfortable. As for you and Harvey, your relationship was inevitable. Being around you two was like waiting for fireworks to go off. I was happy he found someone who cared about people as much as he did and who truly loved him for who he was. But he was such a composed, in-control person, I think you scared him a little.”
“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” I say carefully. “I know some people thought I was a gold digger.”
“I never thought that, and my guess is, the people who did, didn’t think it for long. I’d never seen Harvey happier than when he was with you, and you always were a dynamo, but you shined even brighter around him. I wish he’d opened his heart to you sooner so you could’ve had more time together.”
A pang of sadness hits. How many tears have I shed over that lost time? How many hours have I spent wishing I’d pushed him harder that first year after we met? And for what? All that heartache and regret couldn’t give us that time back. That time is gone. Harvey is gone.
My throat thickens.
“I missed seeing that spark in you after Harvey died,” Padma says. “But it’s come back now that you’re scouting talent again. It’s a different kind of spark but every bit as bright.”
That’s not from scouting. That’s from Wells. Guilt slices through me, and that urge to run returns. “I have to go.” I hurry over to the closet and grab my purse.
“Is everything okay? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, Pad. Everything you said was spot-on.”