Chapter 11
Cherish’s head throbbed as the fluorescent light in the foyer flickered through the heavy glass doors that blocked sound enough but did nothing for her light sensitivity. She had already put in a maintenance request to have it replaced, but the building was all but shut down now. She pulled out the bottle from her top drawer and dropped some pills into her hand. The last two pills in the bottle.
“Shit,” she muttered as she dry swallowed them. There was no way she was getting to the store tonight, not with damage control in full swing. Maybe she had some more floating around at home. It was possible, though her supply generally came to work because that was where she needed it most.
“Cherish, in here now!” Febe called from her office.
Before Cherish had even stood up, Febe had turned in her four-inch heels and disappeared into her dimmed room.
“And here we go.” The words were little more than a whisper because her head was already splitting into shards of glass. Noise would have been one more hammer slamming on it.
At least Febe’s office would be a relief for her eyes.
“When did she leave?” Febe paced back and forth in front of her desk, her voice low and hoarse.
Cherish forced herself to focus on Febe’s face and saw the hints of red around her eyes. She wished she could be certain if it was from the long day or from shedding tears. Perhaps it was both. It rubbed Cherish the wrong way that she didn’t know.
“At five o’clock.”
“On the dot, no doubt.” Febe scoffed, and Cherish took a deep breath.
Cherish had been right, the lights had helped ease the intensity of her current migraine. That and the last of her pills would kick the rest of it shortly.
“Why do I even bother giving people a chance? I don’t ask for blood, but I do ask for the ability to actually do the job you’re hired for. Even that seems to be too much to expect lately.”
“I don’t think she left because she didn’t want to work.” Cherish sat, relaxing into the chair that she normally did. Her body ached from the migraine, from tense shoulders to aching feet. Not that she would ever admit that, and definitely not to Febe.
Another scoff from Febe, and Cherish could see she was only just building up her rant that would go for at least half an hour. Normally, Cherish enjoyed being the one who could listen to Febe’s frustrations and help her work through the emotions she would never allow out during official work hours, but Cherish’s stomach churned with her own unsettled feelings.
“Of course she did. She’s not exactly the worker of the month, is she? She’s had long enough to learn what her job is.” Febe pursed her lips, as though she knew she had Cherish in checkmate on this one.
“Maybe not at the beginning. But you have to admit, she’s been trying.” Cherish slammed her lips back together, the words coming out with a snappiness she had never used with Febe before. Heat prickled in her cheeks, her chest constricted and limited her breathing.
“Trying?” Febe raised her right eyebrow at Cherish, head tilted ever so slightly, emphasizing the question, and the corners of her lips pulled up. Cherish knew this look. This was the look that would send her over the edge, falling at Febe’s feet to fulfill her desires.
If only those desires were more fun.
Cherish waited for the unease in her stomach to turn into the delicious attraction and warmth that look from Febe always brought her. She waited and waited. Instead, the unease increased, and she couldn’t name it. She didn’t want to.
“She’s not some lazy kid, Febe,” Cherish said sharply, darkness edging into the corner of her vision as her headache pounded behind her eyes. This was only making it worse, not better. She really should have gone home at the first sign of it.
“Cherish.” Febe closed her eyes and buried her fists into her hips. “I don’t need attitude right now. Not after this morning.” Febe’s voice broke on the last two words.
“All right.” Cherish swallowed audibly. Her head continued to split with every pulse of her blood. The tablets and dim light in the office had warded off the edges, but not enough for her to truly be able to concentrate. And her thoughts tumbled, unable to be snatched and deciphered. Why was she defending Haylee? Hadn’t she thought the exact same things about her just hours ago? Was Febe actually admitting this was hard on her?
Cherish lifted her fingers to her temples and rubbed slow circles against her skin. The pulse pushed against the pads of her fingertips.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
“Cherish?” Febe’s voice snapped Cherish to attention, and her eyes opened once more. “Are you okay?”
“It was a mistake. She knows that.” She wouldn’t actually answer Febe. She wouldn’t admit how much pain she was in—ever. Febe didn’t need more weight on her shoulders.
Febe pursed her lips, her hands still fisted at her sides. She stood straight as a board as she looked Cherish over. The silence was deafening. Cherish lifted her chin, looking Febe directly in the eye, prepared for exactly what she knew was coming.
“Start the termination process.”
The wind sucked out of Cherish’s lungs.
Cherish stood, ignoring the rush of blood to her head and the desire to fall back into the chair. “No.”
“Excuse me?” Febe rocked back, as if she’d been hit square in the chest. Cherish had wounded her. She knew it, but she wasn’t going to back down on this one. Not again.
“She made a mistake. Innocent, perhaps a little unfocused this morning, but she’s good at her job.” Cherish curled her fingers into her palm tightly, using the sensation to center herself as she dared to look Febe directly in the eye.
She’d never done this before.
Febe stared in bewilderment.
Cherish held her stare until her vision started to go in and out, blackness swarming in front of her gaze. What the hell was happening? She fell back into the chair and held her head in her hands. She was so hot, her skin clammy. Her heart raced, thundering as it threatened to go faster than ever before. She would not faint. She would not—
“Oh, Cherish,” Febe’s voice was soft, her fingers gentle against Cherish’s arm. The shuffling of Febe’s feet barely registered in Cherish’s thoughts. “Is it another migraine?”
Cherish whimpered through a grimace, but it was the only sound she could manage. Painful fireworks burst behind her eyes, and she was afraid if she opened them to look at Febe she would upend the contents of her stomach on Febe’s stilettos.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Febe stood up and rushed to her desk, riffling through it.
Cherish struggled to focus on anything.
“Here, please take these. I’ll take you home when you think you can move, unless we need to go get you another shot.” Febe pressed a bottle of painkillers into her hand, far stronger than the ones Cherish kept in her top drawer.
Cherish lifted her eyes to Febe’s. Pain radiated in Febe’s eyes—and concern.
“Please don’t fire her.”
Febe’s jaw clenched, and a few seconds passed. Cherish’s heart sank in her chest, joining that unease in her stomach.
“All right.” Febe nodded. “For you.”
“Really?” Cherish wanted to make sure she hadn’t missed something else in her haze of pain.
“I won’t fire her. But you need to keep a closer eye on her. I don’t want to know anything more about this gala, not until I’m there with a drink in my hand.” Febe curled fingers against Cherish’s burning cheeks. Except Cherish was cold under her skin. Was that even possible? Hot on top and cold underneath?
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Cherish murmured.
“Please take the pills, Cherish.” Febe’s voice was that of the friend Cherish had known back home. The one Cherish had fallen in love with. Nostalgia washed over Cherish, adding to her confusion and agony. “I’ll get your things.”
Cherish said nothing. What could she say? Febe was back to the woman from all those years ago, the one who cared about her, the one who saw her. Cherish didn’t want to lose that feeling. Febe turned the lights off in the main office and then her office before snagging her purse from her desk. She helped Cherish stand up, a hand on her arm as they walked slowly out the door and toward the parking garage.
It took too much effort to focus on staying upright. Cherish couldn’t even think to form a sentence until Febe pulled up outside of her apartment building. “Do you need help up?”
“I think I can make it.” Cherish winced. She should have caught the migraine before it got that bad. She was usually better about that.
“Come in late tomorrow.”
“You know that won’t happen, boss.” Cherish mustered up a small smile, turning her head to look Febe directly in the eye. How much had they changed over the years? Too much. But underneath it all, Cherish could see the Febe she’d fallen in love with, the smart small-town girl who couldn’t wait to get out. “You should call Stuart.”
“Stuart?” Febe stilled. “I haven’t talked to him in a few months.”
Cherish knew that. Despite suggesting it before, she was going to do this again. Her brother and Febe had always been close, even after they’d broken up. “Call him. I think he might be able to help.”
“Help with what?” Febe frowned.
“You know what,” Cherish whispered. She was completely still, staring into those pale blue eyes, the crestfallen face, as the realization dawned on Febe. As soon as that happened, Cherish tightened her grasp on the door handle. “I’ll see you in the morning, Ms. Aarts.”
By the next morning, Cherish was ready to go. She pushed her shoulders back as she stepped out of the elevator. It was time to face Haylee. She had wanted to message Haylee as soon as she’d woken up, and the very idea caught her breath.
What had gotten into her?
She pushed aside the voice inside her head mocking her, telling her she knew exactly what was happening. But it couldn’t be a crush. Because her entire life revolved around Febe. No one else.
And Haylee was nothing like Febe. She pushed open the glass door to find Haylee already at her desk. Despite the fact that Cherish was right on time when she was normally early, she couldn’t help but bite back the smile that Haylee was there before her. A newly common occurrence.
“Good morning.” Haylee looked up, a fearful smile on her face.
“Good morning, Haylee.” Cherish hoped the hesitation in her voice was obvious. The woman turned back to her computer and the tapping of keys on the keyboard resumed.
Was it going to be that easy? Could Cherish simply continue on as though her awful behavior yesterday hadn’t happened? She would give anything to have that twisting lump in her throat dissolve. But it would be impossible until they talked this out, and it was her responsibility to start the conversation.
“Haylee, could you please—” Febe stopped as she looked up, and her eyes met Cherish’s. “Cherish.” Her voice was a breath of surprise. “I’m glad to see you looking better.”
“Good morning, Ms. Aarts.” Cherish nodded and moved to her seat. On her desk was a cup of coffee, steam still wafting up from the small sipping hole.
Haylee.
It had to be, because in all the years Cherish had worked for Febe, this wasn’t her MO. This had Haylee written all over it. Cherish set up her desk while Febe and Haylee spoke about work. She couldn’t help but look at Haylee just as much as she was drawn to Febe. Perhaps more.
But no. She shook her head and sat down. It was time to work. She would apologize to Haylee and this damn feeling in her stomach would go away and things would go back to normal.
All day that feeling sat in the middle of Cherish’s belly like a lead weight. They’d gotten along well enough to get work done, but everything was so professional. Cherish couldn’t believe it, but she missed the real Haylee. When Haylee reached into her desk to pack up, Cherish knew now was her chance.
“Haylee.” Cherish pressed her lips together hard. She had to do this right. Haylee deserved it.
“Yes?” Haylee asked, looking at Cherish with professional but distant eyes. Cherish ached to see that sparkle return. This was all her fault.
“Can I buy you dinner?” Cherish held her breath, her fingers flat against her desk as she waited on the edge of her seat for an answer.
“What?” Haylee choked on the word, spluttering as some of the wall chipped away.
“I want to take you out to dinner and apologize for my behavior yesterday.” Cherish’s heart pattered pleasantly. Haylee’s eyes were wide and deep with true surprise. “You deserve an apology.”
“Oh.” And just like that the wall came up once more. “There’s no need for that. I screwed up, and you were rightfully mad about having to fix my mistake.”
“No.” Cherish shook her head, frustrated that she just couldn’t say what she meant. That she didn’t know what she meant. Her thoughts unraveled and despite the years she had molded herself into being the businesswoman who was comfortable in the city, who knew where she belonged, she suddenly felt like that eighteen-year-old country girl who kept getting asked what she wanted to do, and floundering for an answer that never came.
Haylee blinked, obvious confusion marring her features. Features that Cherish couldn’t pull her eyes away from.
“Please.” Cherish pursed her lips. She had to do this. She couldn’t leave it like this. “Let me take you to dinner and explain.”
Haylee shrugged, but the pain she had hidden throughout the day shone easily in her eyes now. “You don’t need to explain anything. We’re colleagues, and I made your job harder. I put this office in jeopardy.”
Cherish smiled, a lightness blazing in her chest, untangling the uneasiness as soon as the idea hit her. “Don’t you want to at least try to beat me?”
“Beat you?” Haylee shuffled the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder.
“You think one little mistake means our bet for the gala is off?” Haylee liked games, Cherish knew that. And if this was the way to entice Haylee back into her good graces, Cherish would take it.
“It wasn’t just a little mistake.” Haylee’s voice came out so softly that Cherish had to lean in a little. A waft of Haylee’s perfume, mixed with the bustle of the day, caught Cherish off guard for a moment. Her eyes fluttered shut as she let the aroma wrap her entirely up in its headiness.
The sound of Febe’s door opening brought Cherish back, eyes flying open and pivoting to the woman standing in the threshold.
“Why are you both still here?” Febe asked, firm but not cruel, the soft woman from the day before vanished into the hardened city goer. No one would ever know where Febe had grown up.
“We’re just leaving.” Cherish smiled and gave Febe a small nod. “Haylee and I were going to try that new place over off Twenty-Third Street. Jeju, I think it’s called.”
“We were?”
“You are?” Febe’s eyes lit up. “You’ll have to tell me how it is. I’ve been meaning to check it out.”
Cherish hummed, not tearing her gaze from Haylee’s. She had just won that one, fair and square. Okay, maybe not fair, but it didn’t matter. She would get her dinner with Haylee and a chance for a proper apology.
“Will do.” Cherish grabbed her purse, still not taking her gaze off of Haylee. She was scared that if she did that Haylee would back out of the dare.
“I guess I’m going to dinner,” Haylee muttered, waiting at the door for Cherish.
The back of their hands brushed as they walked. Cherish didn’t quite manage to bite back the smile on her face. She was certain Haylee noticed it out of the corner of her eye if that quirk of her lips was anything to go by.
It had been a long time since Cherish had been on a date, not that this was a date. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if she would get to kiss those lips by the end of the night.
These feelings were nothing like the torch she carried for Febe—that was more than evident. But the buzz in Cherish’s chest felt nice and warm. She could deal with a little crush on her colleague. She’d been doing that for years. It didn’t mean she would ever do anything about it, or that Haylee would ever want her to. Tonight was about an apology. Nothing else.