Chapter 15
Erica
I take another slice of pizza from the box, hoping Marco gets the hint that I no longer want to talk about the past. I want it to be left where it was, a year ago.
Though sitting here across from him, alone for the first time since I realized he was my new boss, it’s hard not to remember our night together.
I see it in the way he looks at me, his brown eyes careful, yet persistent.
It’s hard not to get lost in them like a fancy cup of cappuccino.
Not to mention his smile, which feels like it’s whittling me down slowly.
There are so many versions of it too. The one he gives me when he thinks I’m not looking.
The one he gives me when he’s excited about something.
The one he gives me when he’s trying to force it.
My eyes are drawn to it every single time as I guess what each one means.
I’m finding myself more and more intrigued as I struggle to push him further and further away.
It’s a dangerous line I’m treading. The one between past and present.
Truth and lies. But I’m doing it all for Josie.
As I look at Marco now, all I can see is her in his face and it feels like I might sink to the bottom floor of this fabulous building by the sheer weight of the secret I’m keeping.
She looks so much like him. I remind myself that I’m doing it to protect her.
I can’t risk this man disappointing her in the way he disappointed me. She’s safer with just me.
I finish my slice of pizza and begin to stack the paper plates, bunching up the napkins, and clearing off the desk.
Marco stands to help me, reaching for the pizza box at the same time.
Our fingers brush against each other for a second and it’s like all my nerves are at my fingertips, sending warning signals through me.
I quickly pull away and let him take the box, careful not to look at him for any sign he felt the same shock as me.
“I should get going,” I say softly.
“Yeah. Me too,” he says.
I quickly leave the room, dumping the trash in the breakroom before grabbing my purse from my office.
I still can’t believe I get to say that.
I look around the room fondly for a moment.
It’s all coming together, from the desk to the plush armchair to the modern gold lamp that sits in the corner.
I still can’t believe I got to pick everything out and make it my own.
It feels like a true promotion, and I’m thankful to Marco for that, even though part of me wonders if I truly deserve it.
I wonder if this is his way of apologizing for what happened.
After he explained everything tonight, I couldn’t help but believe him.
Even though everything he said sounded like an excuse, from the family emergency to the maid losing my number to being so busy at work.
Anyone in their right mind would roll their eyes in disbelief, but there was something so sincere in the way he spoke.
Even when he told me why he lied about who he was.
This whole time I had thought it was to get information from me by omitting he was the very Shark that everyone feared.
Ever since I saw his face on the news at the doctor’s office, I felt my guilt gnawing away at me, scared that I had just given him everything he wanted by falling into his trap.
I’m beginning to see that maybe it wasn’t like that at all.
I can understand why it’s easier to hide who you are.
I’ve done it in the past to avoid special treatment or to avoid someone pretending to love me for the wrong reasons, because they have something to gain from me, or more so, my father.
Relationships had always been tricky for me because I didn’t know who I could trust. My very first boyfriend in college practically fanboyed over my father the first time he met him, doing everything he could to impress him.
I wondered if he was dating me or him at one point.
So yeah, I know why it’s easier to leave last names out.
“Well, I’ll see you next week,” I say, clutching my purse as I pass Marco’s office. He’s still at his desk and looks pensive. I wonder what he’s thinking about, but remind myself it’s not my business.
“Do you need me to walk you out?” he asks. “It’s late.”
“It’s only eight.” I laugh.
“Oh, right. Well, I will anyway. I need to get home too. I’m wiped.”
“It’s been a long week,” I say, as we fall in step together.
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Yes, you could have. This isn’t your first rodeo.”
“Well, you’ve definitely made it easier.”
He presses the button for the elevator and as we wait, the question I’m dying to ask him tumbles out of me.
“Did you just give me the promotion because you felt bad for me?” I blurt out.
He looks at me in surprise and hesitates before saying anything.
“I gave you the promotion because you earned it. It’s something you should have gotten on the rooftop that night before I messed everything up. I went through everyone’s files, and you’re the one with the most tenure. The most drive. The most passion.”
I take a deep breath, feeling pride well up in me.
“People here trust you. More than they do me. I trust you. That’s why you got the promotion,” he says seriously.
He trusts me. The secret I’m keeping feels even heavier than before.
The elevator doors ding as they open. We both step inside, but stand on opposite sides of the elevator.
As we pass each floor on our descent I stay silent.
I know I should say something, but I can’t get anything out.
I don’t know if it’s because he’s told me everything I have wanted to hear after busting my ass at this paper for so long, or if it’s the way he looks at me in that way.
The same way he did on the rooftop, at the jazz bar, in his bedroom.
The elevator doors pour us out into the large lobby and we walk in silence to the large glass doors. It’s not until we are out on the sidewalk about to go opposite directions that I’m able to say something.
“Thank you,” I say, looking him in the eye.
He gives a single nod before stepping to the curb and holding up his hand for a cab.
A yellow one pulls up almost immediately and he opens the door for me.
I scooch inside and he closes the door after me before giving me a new smile—a sad one.
I give the driver my address and he pulls away, leaving Marco alone on the sidewalk.
On the drive to my apartment, my head is swimming and all I want to do is hold Josie and hear her laugh. But when I get home, Sadie opens the door and holds her finger up to her mouth.
“She’s sleeping,” she says softly.
My face can’t hide my disappointment.
“We tried to keep her up for you,” says Beth as she pops her head out from the kitchen.
“This one was doing puppet shows from behind the couch,” laughs Sadie, pointing her thumb at Beth.
“I’d like to see that,” I say with a smile.
I look between the two of them and feel so grateful to them for everything they do for me and Josie.
They love her like their own. They’ve been helping out the past week, picking her up from daycare and bringing her home while I work these long hours.
I know it won’t last forever. It’s just this week has been so busy with the move.
I hope it settles down soon because I miss my daughter.
I place my purse down on the small entryway table and walk to Josie’s nursery. Carefully, I push the door open and tiptoe inside. She’s sleeping peacefully in her crib, looking like a beautiful angel. I reach into her crib and stroke her head, listening to her steady breathing.
“I love you, Jojo,” I whisper before leaning in and kissing her temple. She stirs slightly before falling back into a deep sleep.
Leaving her room, I close the door behind me and walk to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and three glasses.
I fill each one and balance them in my hands as I walk to the couch where Beth and Sadie sit.
I hand them each a glass before I collapse onto it in a tired heap.
It’s not the long workday that has me exhausted.
It’s Marco and the rollercoaster of emotions I feel.
I take a long sip of wine and lean my head against the back of the couch.
“Rough day?” asks Beth.
“Just long. This move has been harder than I thought.”
“How is your new office?” asks Sadie.
“It’s beautiful. I’ll show you pictures once it’s all done. The furniture company delivered everything today.”
“I hope you picked out the most expensive pieces,” says Beth, smiling as she takes a sip of wine. “He owes you that.”
“Beth!” I say, shoving her playfully.
“Hey! I’ve got red wine here!” She giggles.
I roll my eyes and ask about their night with Josie.
They fill me in on the daycare’s report, which is nearly always the same.
She played. She ate. She napped. Sadie picked her up and brought her back here where she made her favorites for dinner, mac and cheese and applesauce.
They read some books and then Beth came over as soon as she closed her flower shop, stopping to get some baked goods for the next morning.
“Thank you,” I say, looking at both of them sincerely. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Of course,” they say in unison.
Sadie takes a sip of wine before looking at me warily.
“What?” I ask.
“Anything new with Mr. Billionaire?” She raises a brow.
“His name is Marco, and no. He’s my boss. ”
“He’s also Josie’s dad…” Beth reminds me.
“He doesn’t know that. He will never know that.”
“Maybe the two of you could…” starts Beth before I shoot her a look. She grabs my hand before continuing. “I’m just saying, you two had something once before. Maybe this whole thing is meant to bring you back together again.”
Of course, it’s Beth who is thinking that we can have some wild happy ending.
She’s a hopeless romantic. I swear, she’s the perfect person to own her own flower shop.
She fits the role so well, pouring herself into every single arrangement, whether it’s a wedding or simply just a way for a boyfriend to surprise his girlfriend.
She loves feeling a part of someone’s happy ending.
“It was one stupid night together. It didn’t mean anything.” I shake my head, knowing I’m lying to my friends and myself.
“Just be careful,” says Sadie seriously. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She and Beth are so opposite of each other. She’s the more logical of the two. It must be the accountant in her, looking at everything logically, calculating the outcome of every situation, whether it’s in life or numbers.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I’ve got it all under control.”
I look at them tersely, hoping I’m convincing enough.
They both nod and I know they’ve thankfully dropped the subject.
They mean well, but I’m too exhausted to talk any more about Marco.
I’m just glad I have the weekend to recoup before another work week of working alongside him. I hope it somehow gets easier.