7. Henry
7
HENRY
M y father would always have a special place in my heart. I loved my old man, but if he showed up at the office, again, for the third day in a row, I wouldn’t be able to hide my frustration.
I rode up the elevator the night after that date that I never wanted to have in the first place. Showing a family friend of my father’s around wasn’t a “date” or a romantic evening. I agreed on the principle of it, that I would be polite and appease my father in his desire to welcome Ann to New York. Winding up at that restaurant and her sneaking a date on me wasn’t what I’d been counting on.
It was one thing to miss my arcade night with Mia and Jason—and they had fun, which I envied. But it was a whole other grievance to be foisted into a situation I didn’t want.
My phone pinged as soon as I reached my floor, and with a sigh, I glanced at it.
“Gee, how could I have guessed?” I mused wryly as Ann’s number scrolled over the screen. I wouldn’t be forgiving my father for giving her my number anytime soon.
Ann Vance: Are you sure you don’t want to come back and have a nightcap?
She’d texted that after I dropped her off at her hotel and I declined coming inside. What, did she think I was stupid, oblivious to what she wanted from me?
Ann Vance: Since you have a babysitter at home, why not enjoy the night?
I rolled my eyes again at that one. Mia wasn’t a babysitter. She simply enjoyed being with Jason and was always eager to help out. One day, she’d make a great mother.
Ann Vance: Good night, handsome.
She just had to go over the top and add that unnecessary endearment.
And this just now.
Ann Vance: Good morning!! A couple of smiling emojis followed.
As I walked to my office, I put her on mute. The next step was blocking her damn number, but it was early days yet. I didn’t need my father to get it in his head that I blew her off completely. He’d meddled enough for the week. For the month. The year! If he suspected that I was ignoring Ann, he’d only find another woman to parade in front of me next time. He wouldn’t give up until I had someone.
But I already do. I had him, Jason, and Laura, who was more like a family member than a sitter or a nanny.
And Mia. I knew I could always count on having her in my life, even if we had to stand on opposite sides of the line that marked us as boss and employee.
Knowing Mia wouldn’t be in until later, I headed to my desk and slumped into my chair. Annoyance swept over me all over again, muddying my concentration. I was irritated, and it was far too early to be this peeved.
I wasted the entire night with Ann, resisting her not-so-subtle advances. I told her I’d show her around, and that was all she’d get from me. Instead of putting up with her, I could’ve been with my son and my…
My…
I groaned, irked as I glanced at the photo of Mia and me at the previous company picnic. Someone had snapped the picture just before she smashed the first cream pie in my face. I was smiling at Jason, unaware of the fate waiting for me as Mia snuck up behind me to cover my face. A moment after this photo was taken, she hung around my back and laughed and laughed, pleased that she’d gotten me with that cream pie. I paid her back, and that was one of the first times that I worried Owen was catching on to my feelings for her. He’d never asked, but my best friend knew me that well. He was at least suspicious, but so far, he hadn’t mentioned his hunch. That picnic was the first time I’d noticed him watching me with a bemused expression, perhaps wondering how much Mia mattered in my life.
Diving into my tasks, I unlocked my computer and rolled my chair closer. On the strip of an agenda that I had pinned to my desktop as a widget, I spotted the first thing I could smile about. Lunch with Mia. I bet she put in on my shared calendar last week. That was how often we grabbed lunches together. The prospect of seeing her one-on-one would almost make up for the loss of the arcade night.
Before I got too far, though, a notification popped up of an incoming email.
“Ann Vance?” I read aloud, groaning. Texting wasn’t enough? She had to email me too?
I opened it and deadpanned at her blatant approach.
I know you said you’re not available to date right now, but when you are, I’ll be here, ready for you.
“Who says I’d want you , though?” I clicked on the delete button, satisfied to wash my hands of her for now. “No one. That’s who. No one is saying I’d want you.”
I told her as honestly, politely, yet firmly as I could that I wasn’t available. Not when I was expanding the business and opening a new night club. I wouldn’t be available for Ann. Ever.
With the opening of Fifty on my mind, I wanted to double down and try to find that dancer. “Let’s see about that woman,” I muttered to myself, going to a browser and focusing on that. It served as a productive use of my time as a work task, and it also kept me mostly preoccupied until the lunch hour neared.
I didn’t have a chance to grumble about Ann. I lacked the opportunity to overthink everything with Mia. I threw myself into searching for that dancer I still couldn’t get out of my mind. I started with looking through the club, Danger, and then I followed a long thread of posts about that one woman who’d entertained many. Numerous people who'd stopped at Danger went home to praise her and how well she’d danced.
“How can she have a mask on in every picture?” I wondered aloud when my stomach growled hours later. I’d spent all morning looking, and I found no trace of the dancer. Searching for Gina Martinez didn’t get me too far, either, but I wasn’t sure how looking into Danger’s stage manager would get me answers about the dancers themselves.
Maybe they all use stage names. For security and privacy purposes.
“Knock, knock.” Mia tapped her knuckles on my door as she pushed it open
On a sigh, I closed out all my windows and looked up at her. Then I resisted the instinct to let out another long breath at the fresh sight of her. She’d still been in her work clothes when I came home to Jason last night, but now, she looked… elegant? Beautiful as always, but overly dressy.
“Wow.” I raised my brows at her unusual outfit.
“Wow, what?” She furrowed her brow, smoothing her hand down her white skirt. It was simple and basic, hugging her sexy curves and clinging to her lean legs. But it, along with the beige top, lacked color.
“You’re so…” I stood, curious as to why she was wearing such boring clothes. She chose her outfits artistically, and I loved how she kept me wondering and guessing what she’d come to the office in next.
“So…?” She stepped back as I met her at the door.
“So boring.”
“That’s not nice.” She shoved at my shoulder, and I chuckled at her deadpanned reaction.
“And seeing you all white and drab isn’t nice, either. You feeling okay?”
She pursed her lips, looking prim, and that didn’t sit well with me. Since when was she prissy and proper?
“I’m feeling hungry,” she answered.
“Why all the drab white and neutral stuff?” I asked as we reached the elevator.
“It’s not drab .”
“It is. No color, unlike the usual.”
She shrugged. “Just trying to fit in with the office crowd.”
I stabbed the button for the ground floor, where we both liked to have lunch at the café. “Fit in?”
Her responding groan was cute. “Fine. It’s laundry day, all right?”
I laughed, appreciating her honesty. Because the idea of Mia struggling to fit in with any crowd was laughable. She drew everyone in with her smiles and wit.
As soon as we found a table downstairs, teasing each other the whole way there about the pros and cons of drab clothes, I spotted Owen striding toward us.
“Hey, mind if I join?” he asked, pulling out a chair for himself.
I dropped into my chair. I minded, but I couldn’t say that.
“No, of course not. The more, the merrier,” Mia replied.
Do you mean that? I fell right back into the habit of analyzing every word she said. Did she not enjoy spending time with just me? I worried again about my dad’s comment, that she saw herself as just a worker in the building.
I let them catch up with small talk, but before long, Owen looked at me. “Any luck finding that dancer?”
Mia coughed, damn near choking on the sip of water she’d just taken.
Owen frowned, watching her with concern as I patted her back. “Wrong pipe?”
She nodded, her eyes watery. “Something like that.”
“You okay?” I asked.
More nods, but she wouldn’t look up at me.
“You remember the dancer, right?” Owen asked once Mia was finished clearing her throat.
“How could I not?” I joked. “I’ve thought about her every day.”
Mia blinked quickly, uneasy and struggling to look at me. “What dancer?”
Is it just me or does she look pale? Maybe it was the boring white and beige leaching color from her face, too.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked her again, rubbing her upper back.
“Yep. Yeah.” Now she lifted those emerald eyes to face me. “What dancer are you talking about?”
“Henry and I went to this really seedy dive. Some night club one of the valet drivers suggested.”
“Hmm.” Mia lowered her gaze again. She fiddled with her utensils, too, unable to stay still like usual. Mia was cool and collected in any situation.
“And we saw this one dancer who was just…” Owen shrugged.
“Gorgeous. Amazing,” I clarified. “I’ve never seen a woman move like that.”
Her brows shot up. “Wow. That good, huh?”
I mimed making a chef’s kiss. “She was clearly the star of the whole place.”
“Real talent,” Owen agreed.
“Unbelievable talent,” I added.
Mia shrugged. “Eh, all dancers have to be the same, right? One dancer can’t be that much better than any others.”
“Not true,” I protested. “I bet some have the privilege of many years of practice to perfect their stamina. Or some are just naturally born with it. This woman was probably born with it.”
Owen and I talked a little more about the mysterious woman, describing her to Mia. We added in details about Danger and talked a bit about the program they’d put on. The more we talked, the more distant she seemed. When I got the impression, again, that she was uncomfortable or awkward about us talking about this dancer, I grew curious. We’d talked about the nightclubs often. She was aware that we owned a few.
But maybe she was offended now because I wasn’t giving her attention here and now.
No, that can’t be it.
Mia wasn’t the jealous sort. We often talked about business over lunch, but we were friends too.
No matter what my dad said, she was not merely an employee. Every day, it felt like our connection and closeness was one step away from something more. Something forbidden. Something… more.
I was sure that my father would be annoyed if I tried to choose someone so unlike the women he introduced to me. But I didn’t care. I was at the point that I wished those damn ethics policies hadn’t been put in place so I could be upfront and pursue Mia. If she was interested.
All I could do with her now, though, was talk about business. Keeping it all professional.
On that note…
“How about you come with me and scope out some dancers there?”
She pointed at herself. “Me? Why me?”
“You’re one of the very few women I can trust in my life.”
She almost smiled, and I loved the idea of her glowing under my praise. “But…”
No, no arguments. Please. “Come with me. I trust your judgment. You can give me a woman’s point of view about the dancers.”
“Maybe sometime…” She shrugged.
“Tonight. After work,” I insisted.
“Tonight?” She opened her eyes wide. “Gosh, that’s a short notice.”
“Oh. Do you already have plans?” I asked, praying she wouldn’t. Already, the idea of spending time with Mia outside of the office—but still sort of participating in a work side mission—made me happy. I didn’t want to consider that she could have other commitments. Of course, she had a life outside the office here, but I didn’t want to think about who mattered in it.
Fuck, I’ve got to watch this possessiveness.
“No. Um, no plans.” She shook her head.
“Then will you come with me?” I asked, looking her straight in the eye.
“Okay. I’ll cave.” She nodded. “I can come give you a woman’s opinion on these wonderful dancers you saw.”
“No. Not plural. I’m sure the dancers were all quality performers, but they fell to the background when she was dancing closer.”