4. Elodie #2
“I was with Julian, who already knows, obviously. It made sense. We have a few optics in the office to figure out, you and me.”
Giving him a stern look with my finger pointed at him, I issue my warning. “Do not mess with my job. I can only imagine what people in the office will think. I’m not the woman who sleeps around to do well in her career.” I huff a breath of exhaustion.
“I won’t. And who cares? You were working at Haven before I even joined. People will find out, though. You're going to have to find a way to wrap your head around it.”
“Lola won't be a secret, I know. Plus, her daycare probably already has theories, so thanks for that,” I say sarcastically, and it makes him have a boyish, cocky look that is appealing, to be honest.
I really do see that he isn’t trying to be vicious… today, at least. Last weekend was rough.
He lightly touches my shoulder. “Please…” he begs delicately. “Can I see her this afternoon?”
Work has already gone out the door, and logic dictates that Lola will be in better spirits in the afternoon.
“I really want this before the announcement. I’ll be able to think more clearly,” he implores.
“It’s not about you,” I point out, but then my face tightens because he has already lost enough time with her.
A little more than two years, and more if we’re counting the pregnancy.
He's persistent, and at some point I need to test the waters to see him interact with Lola. Maybe he’ll change his mind about his role as a dad.
I doubt it, and that's probably what weighs me down.
This is all real, he's here in my life now and with full intention to stay.
I need to take steps to help me figure out how to handle my new reality.
“Okay. How about 4pm?”
His eyes light up with agreement.
It took three minutes for us to agree that neither one of us seemed to have an appetite. We asked for the food to be packed up.
For now, nerves made us full enough.
It’s best that I pick up Lola and head straight home to ensure everything at home is ready by 4pm. Hence, I’m at my desk in my office and closing down for the day. My office is most definitely not a corner office. It’s small but still has a large window with a view of the skyline.
Blair, my colleague, who spends her lunchtimes eating salad and redoing her makeup, stalls mid-pass by my door. “Have you heard?”
Glancing up as I zip my purse, I see her with her dark pink nails holding her routine afternoon bottle of sparkling water. “What?”
“People saw Hayes Callahan around the office this morning. For sure, they are announcing tomorrow that he’s the new COO. How lucky are we? Have you seen him? Heard he’s single, too.”
I stall as I’m about to swing the strap of my purse over my shoulder.
“Maybe.” Something is brewing inside me.
Concern for what the office will think, the reminder that even at work, Hayes and I will cross paths, and a bit of possessiveness that Blair needs to keep her claws away from him.
Because yes, I’ve seen him, and my body hasn’t forgotten him, either.
“Hopefully. Anyhow, where are you heading? I saw that our one-on-one has changed times.” She spots the paper doggy bags. “Whoa, did you go out for lunch to that new spot? Heard they book out for weeks.”
I continue my quest to leave. “Yeah, sorry. Lola is sick, and I need to take her home,” I lie and choose to bypass the answer about the restaurant.
“Oh, hope the little squirt feels better.”
“Thanks,” I say and speed past her. I cruise through the hallway and straight to the corner office, where Foster’s door is open. I’m lucky that we have a good rapport, so this only feels 75% awkward instead of 100%.
Knocking softly on the door pane, he glances up from his desk only to do a double take. His crooked smile appears strained.
“Sorry to disappear, but I need to go.”
“Yeah. No worries.” He appears equal parts understanding and in an awkward position.
I roll my eyes because I don’t need to explain further.
Because Hayes already went above me to tell him I’m taking off.
“I will sort something out so this doesn’t become a thing.
Just need to establish some…” How do I phrase this correctly, but I give up.
“Foster, this is…” I try again, only to blow out a raspberry and quickly glance to the sky for a miracle.
“A little crazy,” he supplies.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Go. See you tomorrow.” He reassures me with a sympathetic expression on his face.
But as I turn to leave, I stop mid-pivot and look back at him. “Can I ask you something not office-related?”
“Always.”
The last 72 hours have already been spinning enough that I might as well get it all out. “You know Hayes better than I do. Even if he isn’t, can you just tell me he’s a good guy? I need to hear that.”
Foster’s mouth stretches into a warm, closed smile. “No need to lie to you. He’s a good guy. Stubborn but a good guy.”
I breathe easy and let it be.
Two hours later, my heart is racing. Lola woke from her afternoon nap a while ago. I fixed her pigtails, and now she’s happily playing with her tea set, completely oblivious to how the doorman phoning to announce Hayes's arrival is life-changing.
I’m lucky, we live in a nice building, though by no means extravagant.
Our two-bedroom apartment is in a new and secure building.
Probably not even a quarter the size of Hayes’s new place, but we have enough space for us, and the building's elevator has been a gift that keeps on giving for the stroller hassle.
I scanned the living room and spent a solid 20 minutes cleaning up. I’m not sure Hayes would be judgmental, but I want to ensure he has the right impression. Simply, that Lola and I are fine.
Walking to the door, I shake my hands, attempting to rid myself of nervous energy, but it fails. Slowly I open the door, waiting for him to appear from the elevator, and the moment he does, my body jolts.
Hayes holds a bouquet of peach-colored roses in one hand and a stuffed bunny with a pink balloon.
I race to him and start to claw the balloon. “You have to get rid of that.”
He is completely perplexed at what the hell is happening. “What? Why?”
I yank the balloon down by its string and begin untying it. “Lola is petrified of balloons.”
He scoffs a laugh. “Balloons? A two-year-old is scared of balloons?”
“Yes.” I quickly push the loose balloon into the trash can near the elevator, hurry back to him, smile with relief, and wipe my hands. “Good.”
Hayes continues to stare at me, bewildered. “My child is scared of balloons?”
I shrug before I usher him along into my apartment. “Weird, I know. It’s a work in progress.”
Closing the door behind us, he turns to me, and I step forward to square his shoulders with my hands. “Okay.” We both breathe together, then I turned puzzled. “What’s the bouquet of roses for?”
“Well, after the bad impression I made for our reunion, I felt compelled to show you I'm not a demanding ass… most of the time. I thought—”
I cut right in and shake my head. “Oh, Hayes. Hayes, Hayes, Hayes,” I tut.
“Flowers do not win me over and make up for the last 72 hours and your demeanor.” But I’d be lying if I tried to deny that I don’t have butterflies right now.
He just pulled a Prince Charming move, and for a split second, I remember the man I met on the island.
“A guy can try,” he replies in defeat. He notices the side table next to the coats hung on the wall and a basket with Lola’s unicorn rainboots sticking out. He tosses the flowers on the table and continues to hold the bunny.
“Ready?” I ask.
He smiles. It isn’t nervous. Nor scared. It’s excited. “No. Are you?” He continues to grin.
“No.”
“Then we should probably do this while we are completely overconfident,” he teases.
I agree with a half-smile, and I turn him around and give him a little push in the direction of the living room.
But the touch causes us both to still because there’s a spark that travels between us, and I feel a tiny jump in my chest. He briefly turns his head slightly to the side as though he wants to look at me to check that I felt it, too, before he continues his journey forward.
When we enter the living room, Lola is completely lost in her tea set.
“Look, we have a visitor,” I attempt to grab her attention, and her head perks up. She instantly notices that Hayes is next to me. Lola doesn’t seem sure what to do or say, but her eyes notice the bunny, and suddenly her focus is lasered.
Hayes looks down to see what has her attention, then zips his eyes back up, smiling in the process. He shakes the stuffed toy. “Got you something. I heard Bagel could use a friend.”
My hand clenches my heart. What a perfect gift to give. He remembered what I mentioned. It’s also completely cute when the handsome man next to you wants to be sweet with a little girl with pigtails, warily staring at him.
“It’s okay, Hayes is a fr…” I stop mid-sentence. She’s at that funny age that I’m not sure what she will or will not remember; she is also resilient. “A special guy.”
Hayes gives me a quick glance that is a little hard on the edges, but he returns all focus on Lola, who now totters slowly her way to us, still unsure. He crouches down and holds out the bunny.
“She can be a little shy and not say much,” I assure him as she hides behind my leg but peeks around.
They stare at one another eye to eye, and I notice that Hayes might be choking up because I see the bob in his throat as he swallows. Lola accepts the stuffed toy but then hands it back to him.
Chuckling, I’m watching the scene unfold. “That’s a good sign. She must like you if she’s sharing.”
He grins at her. “Thank you.” Hayes looks up to check in with me. “I kind of wish the store had bigger emotional support rabbits.”
Lola waddles away to grab Bagel from the sofa and returns to Hayes and hands it to him.
“Ah, a bunny family,” he notes.
Lola nods fervently and smiles, showing her gap-toothed grin.
“Not going to say hi?” I ask her.
She looks at me, then back to Hayes, then me again. “Hi,” she says matter-of-factly, and it causes Hayes and me to chuckle.
“It’s okay, she needs time.” Hayes stands up as Lola continues to stare at him in awe.
“Better be nice. Otherwise, I’m not sure teddy cookies and mac n’ cheese are on the menu, missy,” I playfully tell her.
“Banana?”
I bring my finger to my chin. “Hmm. A negotiator.”
“Like her fath…” Hayes stops himself.
The mood suddenly thickens, but Lola has no idea and totters back to her toys on the floor.
“Yeah. Like him,” I rasp to myself.
“She doesn’t want ravioli?” he asks, as I have a lot of leftovers that I brought home.
I pat my hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, given a choice between fancy ravioli or bear noodles with cheese, what do you think will win?”
A wide grin spreads on his face. “Solid point.”
“But we can have the ravioli left from lunch. Am I assuming you’re staying for dinner? I mean, if you…”
“Yeah.” He only watches Lola. “I would like that a lot. I need to meet the leadership team for drinks, but that’s not until later.”
Lola continues to stare at him, completely bewildered as she holds both bunnies close, and she sits on her knees next to her tea set.
But my daughter isn’t afraid, nervous, or shy.
There’s a connection.
No doubt about it.
She just knows.
He isn’t a stranger who walked in. The man looking on with so much interest and love that I already see is her father.
Hayes takes the plunge and cautiously approaches her before joining her on the floor. She glances at me, and I nod assurance to her, and she looks at Hayes.
And when they begin to play with the teacups and stuffed animals, flutters inside me warn me that this is the image of a family that could break me, or we could all be exactly where we’ve always belonged.