20. Mia
20
MIA
T he first week after quitting my job at Dunn Enterprises felt like a month of agony. Every night, I went to sleep thinking back on how I could’ve been so wrong about Henry, to ever think that he could be a man who loved me. Each morning, I woke up crushed with the reminder that I wouldn’t get to see him.
Missing him became a rite of life. I missed Jason too. Even Eddie. Laura. Jen. All the people at the office. They’d been my acquaintances, stand-ins for the family members I never had.
Now all I had was Gina. She’d taken pity on me when I showed up crying and telling her how I’d quit. She knew about my past, and she’d never judged. Lots of the people who worked at Danger had pasts.
Because I felt so lonely and upset at home, she suggested that I stay with her at her place. It helped a little, having someone to talk to, to hear in the background, because if I had to travel across town every night and head home to my lonely little place, I’d cry until I was dehydrated.
Dancing was my only solace. It made me more money, too, picking up nightly shifts instead of just a few to supplement my secretary wage. I still could lose myself to the music and stay with the rhythm. It helped me to go numb and stay inside a shell, guarding myself from the constant battery of emotions that plagued me.
My heart ached. My head hurt. My soul was crushed. But I put myself out there to dance and keep on carrying on.
Until one night, I worried that I spotted Owen in the crowd. I swore it was him, seated further back where it was harder to see the guests clearly. It seemed like him, a tall man with a shaved head and shrewd, dark eyes.
Crap.
I had my mask on for this familiar routine, the masquerade covering that concealed half of my face. But still, I couldn’t dismiss this nagging thought that he was staring directly at me, watching me.
For a few days, I wondered if Henry would show up here in his relentless search for “me”. He’d been so eager to find the dancer who’d impressed him, but so far, he hadn’t shown up.
Backstage, after the routine was over, I sighed and sat back on a chair.
It wasn’t Owen. It couldn’t have been. I was projecting my fears on strangers, tense that someone from my Dunn world could find me in this Danger world.
Hell, there’s no Dunn world anymore. I quit. The only identity I had now was that of a dancer here at a seedy club.
A knock at the door heralded Gina entering. With her was the man I was trying to convince myself I hadn’t seen.
“Aw, shit.” I sat up, frowning at Gina, cringing as she led Owen back.
“Hey, babe. This guy wanted to talk to you…”
I smirked at her. She knew damn well that Owen was Henry’s friend. “And the bouncers let him back?” I crossed my arms, not getting up from where I sat. My mask was off but my costume remained on. I had been outed. Owen could now clearly see that I was the dancer he and Henry had noticed.
“ You let him back here?” I asked, pinning her with a hard look. She didn’t take the backstage security lightly.
“I figured it might help you to talk, and well, I don’t know.” She hurriedly backed up, extracting herself from the situation.
Owen stood there after she closed the door. He didn’t step in my dressing room any further, glancing around the small space. All the costumes, wigs, masks, all of it.
“So, it’s you.”
I nodded.
“Yeah. I dance here.”
“You’re the dancer we saw that one night.”
I nodded again, lacking the energy to do more. Tension kept me trapped, and I wished I could know how to navigate this awkward moment.
“No wonder Henry was so stuck on finding you, why he was so entranced.”
I rolled my eyes. “With me ?”
“You. The woman he’s been in love with since the day he came into the office and saw you.” He was dead serious. His tone wasn’t mocking. But I didn’t believe him.
I laughed bitterly, wishing that could be true. “Clearly, he’s gotten over me. The dancer ‘me’. I was half afraid I’d see him in the audience, but he doesn’t come to this club anymore.”
“Because Jason is upset. He’s needed to be consoled every night.”
I sank back in my seat, hating that my quitting impacted him. I’d gone completely no-contact with anyone from the office, and that rippled on to affect that sweet boy, too.
“Jason’s upset that he doesn’t see you anymore, Mia.”
“I didn’t intend to ever hurt him,” I replied quietly.
“I bet not. But the timing of it all wasn’t great. He had to make some sort of a report about his mom for his summer camp. He wrote it about you . When he presented it, he cried, and the other kids were assholes and punks to make fun of him. Henry’s either at work or at home trying to comfort him.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the burn of tears. I wouldn’t cry. I refused. But dammit, the thought of Jason in pain or missing me like this hurt so badly.
“Eddie’s been looking for you too.”
I raised my brows.
“He’s worried about your quitting.”
“Henry didn’t tell him why—or when—I did?”
He shrugged. “I think Laura filled him in on what happened that day.”
“Eddie was the only one who knew about my past. He overlooked it. But it seems his son couldn’t.”
“Trust me. Eddie’s had plenty of harsh words to tell Henry, but everyone is focused on Jason. He’s really upset.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
He nodded. “I know. You’d never do anything to hurt Jason.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you implying that I hurt Henry?”
“No. He was a complete asshole to lash out like that and say what he said. Jen filled me in. I wish I hadn’t been out of town that day so I could intervene at the office.”
I didn’t reply.
“Eddie’s been worried about why you’re not at home, either. He’s half convinced you’re missing and is two seconds away from putting a missing persons notice out for you. Laura has talked him out of it.”
I would have to make plans to thank her. “I haven’t been home. I’m staying with a friend.” I didn’t owe him that explanation. He’d deliver it to Eddie, or Henry, and I didn’t want to arm them with any more details about how I lived my life. I felt terrible about abandoning Jason. Eddie, too. But there was no way I could remain there and see them while avoiding Henry. Still, telling Owen that I was simply staying with someone else could put out the fire of them searching for me.
While I considered how all of them had to be thrown off with how I’d left, I got curious whether anyone else knew I was a dancer. “Laura has always known I worked here. She happened upon me working here when she was out at a bachelorette party, and I wasn’t dancing with a mask.” I shrugged. “Then we got to talking, and I shared a bit about my past.”
“Fair enough.”
“Does…” I licked my lips. “Did she tell everyone about me? Eddie knew about my record, but not that I danced.”
“No.” He shook his head. “It sure was news to me that you dance here.”
I was desperate to ask about Henry. How he was doing. What he was doing. Owen had already shared that he was busy comforting a distraught Jason, but I wanted to know how he was taking my departure.
I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t stoop so low to ask. It would signal my interest, and while I missed that man with all my broken heart, I couldn’t bring myself to be in such a vulnerable situation again, beholden and hungry for clues and news.
“Aren’t you curious about Henry?” Owen shoved his hands in his pockets. “How he’s doing and all?”
It was almost as if he could read my mind or guess what I was so quiet about. “No,” I lied instead. “I’ve been too busy working to think about him.”
“But not working for him again, not even at Fifty, right?”
I deadpanned, staring at him.
“You’ve turned down all the offers passed on through Gina,” he clarified.
“No. I’ll never work for Henry again.” I sat up. “But the idea of moving and starting over somewhere new appeals. I could make more. A fresh start away from Henry could do me well.”
“You can’t mean that.”
I huffed. “He’s shown me his true colors. He’s told me what he thinks of me.”
“He didn’t tell you anything. He was trying to get Ann out of there and couldn’t believe what she said.”
I shook my head. “I’m not listening to excuses.”
“Mia, he’s miserable.” He ducked his head, passively trying to come more to my eye level. “He’s convinced that he’s screwed up beyond hope. That he’ll never have a right to ask you to come back to the office, or to even be his friend again. Anything.”
I pressed my lips together and looked down at my bare feet. Those gorgeous but painful shoes I wore for the numbers were always the first things I took off.
“He’s lost without you,” Owen added. “And he’s kicking himself for what he said.”
Hearing his words, I wondered again if I had been too rash, that if I’d stayed and simply explained myself, he’d want me to stay. I told Eddie all those years ago about my record, and he hadn’t judged me. He gave me a chance to turn my life around. He respected that I’d never accept charity, but I’d prove myself with a job.
Was I too rash to give up on Henry? I knew he was in a combative mood already, having to face off with Ann. If I took the time to tell him about my past and apologize for never coming clean, maybe there was a chance that he would understand and want to move past it. It wasn’t like we’d ever broken into the topic about whether we’d ever been arrested or in trouble with the law before. He never looked at my HR files. Eddie had when he hired me, and that was that. Henry wouldn’t have ever known about my past unless I told him about it. A smidgen of guilt filled me that I should’ve stepped up to explain.
No. He wouldn’t change his mind.
I shrugged, knowing I couldn’t risk anything more with the man I’d wanted so badly for years. I refused to put my heart on the line like that anymore. It was too broken, battered and chipped, then crushed and pulverized.
I leaned on the benefit of the doubt once before. When Dennis set me up to “help him with a favor”, I figured I could trust him, that I could believe what he said and in his behavior. He’d duped me, framed me, and I learned how hard love could hurt when I had to serve that little bit of time while he walked away clear and free of charges, pinning it all on me.
I wished I could give Henry the benefit of the doubt now, that I could take a chance on him and my feelings for him to sit down and talk. I almost felt like I owed him that conversation.
But it was simply too damn risky. I couldn’t put my heart out like that again.
It was too broken to be stitched back together again.