8. Chloe
8
CHLOE
T he morning of my first day of work began before dawn.
I opened my eyes to see the morning light seeping through the faded curtains.
I stretched, my fingers grazing the old headboard, and rose from my ancient bed—a solid find from the estate sale of a rich, old family.
I was making my bed, looking out the window, when I noticed that the apartment’s trash bins were still out on the street.
Crossing over to read the schedule on the wall by my bed, I saw that it was Greg Clemson’s turn to bring in the trash bins.
Our apartment building, The Halcyon, had a scheduled rotation for different residents to bring the bins in from the street.
Most days, it worked like clockwork.
But Greg—a new resident—I noticed, struggled to leave his home for days on end and would forget to get the bins.
Whenever it was his turn, usually, one of the neighbors would pound on his door to yell at him to do his share, which disturbed Greg even more.
I thought back to how Sean had given me one more chance last Friday.
A chance that gave me one more attempt at believing we lived in a fairer world than it really was.
Everyone deserved that chance.
Pulling on my jacket, I stepped out into the early morning chill and brought the bins back to the trash room.
Dusting my hands off, I walked back indoors.
I washed my hands, ready to start my day.
I got dressed for work, searching through my closet for something appropriate to wear.
Every few months, I’d go through my closet and donate the clothes I no longer wore, except for the faded black pancake tutu hanging on the right, the one that held memories of my good days of dancing.
I didn’t have the heart to give that one away.
My first task of the day was to email Henry’s doctor to thank him for the new prescription for an off-brand medicine and let him know it was going well.
I’d visited the pharmacy two days ago and realized I didn’t have the spare $397 for Henry’s pain medicines.
The medicines meant that Henry could go longer without a need to visit the occupational therapist, and the doctor had reluctantly given us a cheaper one, which Henry had started taking last night.
My second email was to Mr. Tassater, and I paused when I began the email, wondering what I was going to say.
This is the café guy , I reminded myself.
The one who’d been with me when my world with Bruce fell apart.
I couldn’t believe I was working for him.
My eyes fluttered shut, and I felt my face go warm at the memory.
How firmly he’d held me when I almost collapsed onto the ground.
I’d seen traces of that last Friday too.
He’d held my hand when Edith accidentally stubbed my toe and I was in pain.
I’d been so distracted by everything—losing my job and seeing Sean again—that I hadn’t had time to consider what I felt about working for him.
On one hand, I felt grateful to him for how kind he’d been to me on both occasions.
On the other hand, I wanted to steer as clear of him as I possibly could.
Because I found that I did agree with the two women from the conference hall after all.
Sean did look like a Greek god.
A shiver went down my neck as I remembered how I’d briefly felt the air crackle with chemistry when he looked at me.
How my heart had lurched in my chest, as though I’d been searching desperately for the past six weeks for a second look at the man who had once comforted me.
To prove to myself that he wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.
Well, I’d soon be not too many feet away from him once I reached work.
My face felt warm, and I took a few deep breaths.
It didn’t matter how close Sean would be.
I’d once abandoned Henry when he needed me, and karma, being the reliable bitch it was, had shown me exactly what it felt like to be abandoned—not once, but twice.
First by Dad walking out and then by Bruce.
There wasn’t going to be a next time because I didn’t trust myself to survive a third one.
Where yet another man asked me to choose between him and Henry and my inevitable answer.
After taking a few deep breaths and exhaling slowly, I completed my email to Sean, letting him know that I was looking forward to working with him and thanking him for the opportunity.
I spent the next fifteen minutes at my desk, reading about Sean Tassater’s professional life—and stoutly ignoring his personal one—and his start in investing before he partnered with three other men at the Lead Capital Group, which took off.
One detail stood out about Sean.
While all the partners at Lead Capital had become incredibly wealthy, what set Sean apart from the others was the nonprofit he’d started.
With it, he emphasized giving back to the local community and had credited his childhood friend with helping him come up with the idea.
The flutter that had been taking place in my heart now spread to my stomach, and I shut my computer.
I didn’t need more reasons to admire him.
Instead, I turned my attention to my notes from a late-night call with Amelia.
I’d need an hour to get Mr. Tassater’s morning schedule ready, which meant I ought to be getting ready right now.
A knock on my bedroom door broke me out of my thoughts.
“The dishwasher is broken again,” a sleepy-looking Henry announced when I opened the door.
I followed him through the corridor and into the kitchen, a sinking feeling settling in me.
This was not the start I’d wanted for the first day of my new job.
We lived in an apartment where the sink would often overflow with wastewater due to plumbing issues and rodents would occasionally make their way in.
We put up with it all because we were close to Henry’s college.
But every so often, we’d have an unusual expense or setback, and I’d find myself wishing I made more money to afford a better place, that we weren’t living paycheck to paycheck.
Like unexpected college expenses or broken appliances.
This was why I’d put up with working for Sean even if I’d have to calm my racing heart down a few hundred times a day.
I needed him to keep me employed.
I’d get immune to his good looks over time, I was sure.
“Let me see,” I announced and reached for the dishwasher door.
Henry rolled back as I pulled out the trays and inspected the dishes.
“They are still dirty, so it’s a plumbing issue,” Henry said, getting on the phone with our landlord.
I nodded, pulling an apron on before I took some of the dirty dishes out of the dishwasher.
I needed to get a few of these cleaned before I left so that Henry had some dishes to use for the rest of the day.
I glanced at the clock, my heart skipping a beat when I realized how close I was cutting it on my very first day.
“You know what this reminds me of?” I asked, piling the dirty plates in the sink, determined not to let this ruin my morning.
Henry grinned. “That scene from The Break-up?”
We laughed as I handed him a clean plate, and he placed it in one of the drawers.
“I want you to want to do the dishes,” I said, sounding almost like Jennifer Aniston from the movie.
Henry threw up his hands.
“Why would anyone want to do the dishes?” he asked, in a perfect imitation of Vince Vaughn’s character, Gary.
Henry snort-laughed as I tossed one of the clean plates to him, and he caught it midair before rolling over to place it in the drawer.
“You always loved that movie so much,” he said.
“You’d watch it every weekend. I wrote it off as a teenage thing, but you kept doing that for over a year.”
“Well, I remember you had the biggest obsession with Ariel from The Little Mermaid that year! You’d ask to go to every theater that showed that movie and watch everything related to mermaids when you got back home?—”
Henry rolled his eyes.
“It wasn’t about the mermaids?—”
“It was about Julie, I know,” I said, and we both shared a knowing grin.
Henry had had the biggest crush on his classmate that year when he was eight, and he loved everything she loved.
So, we had to watch The Little Mermaid over and over again so that he could impress Julie.
It had worked.
“You guys ended up being good friends, even after that phase,” I mused, remembering how Julie would come over every so often.
She had since moved out to Colorado, but they were still in touch.
I cleaned the last of the plates, and after I set the plate in the drying rack, Henry held a towel out for me to wipe my hands.
Drying my hands, I took my apron off and checked the time, realizing that I could still catch my train if I raced down the street.
“We’ve grown out of those obsessions, haven’t we?” Henry muttered as he wheeled himself out of the kitchen and into the living room.
“You mean, crushes and movie obsessions?” I asked as I turned the lights off in the kitchen and got ready to pick up my workbag and purse.
He nodded. “Not movie obsessions. God knows I still have those. But crushes, lovers, partners, and things like that.”
I laughed, even as a cold, clammy feeling caught up to me.
“Yep, that’s not happening again,” I said.
He nodded.
“The Nichols siblings stick together,” he said, his voice tender but serious.
“No one else gets us, Chloe. No one else would understand what it means to be abandoned the way we were. I mean, you were eighteen, but still a child when it happened.” He shrugged.
“I don’t get how Dad could just leave us like that,” he said, his voice sounding broken.
“How does someone walk away from their family and not look back, Chloe?”
He extended his arms around us, and I looked at our childhood apartment.
The one that still held fading memories of Mom, but stronger memories of Dad.
Mom couldn’t help it; she’d passed away ages ago, when I was barely eight, and Dad …
well, his abandonment after Henry’s accident was a scar that I would carry around for the rest of my life.
In the end, both our parents had left us.
“I’m not going to add to those sad memories, Henry,” I said in a soft voice.
I knew Henry’s deepest worries even if he never voiced them.
One did not just bounce back from losing use of their legs and subsequently their father in the span of months.
The trauma of it all—physical, mental, and emotional—had taken a toll on Henry, and I knew it would be a long time before I could afford a psychiatrist to help Henry with his emotions.
Until then, we would manage.
I wouldn’t leave Henry—ever.
It was the thing I’d been so grateful to Bruce for—that he wanted to move in with us.
Look where that had gotten me.
Jilted after being quite close to the symbolic altar.
So, I gave Henry a smile and leaned over for a hug.
“I won’t leave, I promise. The Nichols siblings stick together,” I echoed.
And ruffling his hair, I hugged him tight before letting go.
“See you in the evening, Prince Eric. I’ve got to get to work and meet my new, mean boss.”
He waved as I crossed the hall and prepared myself for the crowded streets to the subway station.
“And by the way, I always pictured myself as Sebastian!” he called out before I stepped out the front door.