20. Chloe
20
CHLOE
A t half past five in the evening, I left home with my old bike.
It was a bit rusty, but I’d used a little oil, and you could hardly hear it creaking anymore.
I’d told Henry about my task, earning a frown that doubled when he realized it was with Sean.
He hated Sean already.
Henry had insisted I shouldn’t have to work so hard, and while I loved his sentiment, I didn’t tell him the bitter truth.
Being paid for overtime would help afford his medicines.
I’d led Henry to believe that the medicines were covered under my new employer’s health insurance plan, which was a lie.
Tassater Inc. had an abysmal health insurance plan, no better than my previous one.
Higher-paid employees at Tassater had access to premium plans and better coverage, but I was not one of them.
This was another reason I needed to get my PMP certification and get my career going, but seriously, when did I have the time for it?
I reached Central Park’s west entrance and forgot about my worries for a bit when I felt a light breeze around me.
It swayed the trees, and the air was cool and refreshing.
I found Sean and his son pushing their new bikes across the street from me.
Lucas looked glum, as though he didn’t expect this to be any good.
I hadn’t spent too much time worrying about what I’d do to make Sean get along with Lucas, but now, I was starting to suspect I’d taken my task too lightly.
It was a pleasant summer evening, and we were not the only ones out biking.
“No tassels for you either, I see,” Sean announced when he approached me, and I laughed.
Lucas responded to my cheery wave with a short, stiff smile.
“Lucas, this is Chloe. She knows the best bike routes in the park and has very kindly offered to show?—”
“You don’t need to lie. I know why she’s here.”
He followed that statement with an accusing glance at his dad.
He knew something was up, and I instantly understood that I wasn’t Lucas’s ally anymore.
I was part of the other camp, probably since I’d laughed at his father’s tassels joke.
Sean and I met each other’s gaze over Lucas’s head, and before Sean could correct him, I knelt down to look at Lucas.
“I’ll join you guys only if you don’t mind, Lucas.”
But Lucas was already hopping on his bike and pedaling furiously, as though determined to get away from his father and me.
“Let’s go,” I said, telling Sean that he had to hurry instead of double-checking the air pressure in my tires.
Ten minutes into our ride, Sean and I were trying our best to catch up to Lucas, who was very good at biking.
Darting between paths like he’d been riding in Central Park for all of his seven years.
Then, at one point, he suddenly got frustrated with the bike.
Getting off for no apparent reason, he tossed it aside on the ground and stomped off.
He found a vacant bench and sat down, kicking a stone listlessly.
“I hate this bike,” he announced, and I could see Sean not even bother to resist an eye roll at the word hate .
I gestured to Sean to follow him, and a second later, he sat down next to Lucas.
“Why?” he asked in an aggressive tone.
It was my turn to try to not roll my eyes.
If anyone needed proof of their troubled relationship, their tones were enough.
“Because I saw a girl riding the same bike just now. It’s a girl’s bike,” he said, looking disgusted.
Nothing about the red-and-blue bike said anything about gender—I’d picked it, thinking about his love for Spider-Man—but I could see Sean open his mouth to try to change his mind about that.
It was going to be futile.
Ten seconds into Sean giving him an explanation about gender, Lucas got up and strode off, leaving Sean alone on the bench.
Going by Sean’s tense set of shoulders, he wasn’t happy with how this evening was going.
I hurried over to Sean and pointed to a white ice cream cart in the distance.
“How about we try to soften Lucas up with some ice cream?”
“Good idea,” Sean said, following my gaze.
“I’ll get us some cones. You stay with him.”
He took ten steps away from me before I called after him, “Do you know his favorite flavor?”
He looked back at me, stumped.
“I’ll ask Lucas,” I said, and he nodded as I ran up to Lucas, who was kicking stones into the lake.
A minute later, I texted Sean after speaking to Lucas.
Me : Cookies and cream for Lucas, please.
Sean : Thank you. What about you?
Me : Butter pecan, please.
Pocketing my phone, I tried my best to strike up a conversation with Lucas, but I could’ve attempted to converse with the lake for all the good it did.
He was a stark contrast to the boy he’d been that night in the lobby of his father’s office.
I was about to suggest a game of tossing stones farthest into the lake when I heard footsteps.
I turned around, expecting to see Sean, but saw a dusty-blond-haired man in his early thirties approaching us.
He had a young girl by his side, who was probably eight years old.
She looked at Lucas closely before registering something and waving at him.
“Lucas, is that you?” she asked.
Lucas looked at her, and I saw a glimmer of interest in his eyes.
“Hi, Brianna,” he said at last, half shy.
“Brianna said she recognized you,” the father said with a smile at Lucas before turning to me.
I definitely saw something that looked like a glimmer of interest in his eyes too.
“Brianna said they were in the same class at Preswood Elementary for kindergarten and her first year before we had to move her elsewhere,” the man said, and I assumed it was the same school Lucas went to.
Brianna walked up to Lucas, starting a conversation with him easily—a conversation Lucas actually took part in.
“Wow, I haven’t heard Lucas talk this much in a while,” I muttered more to myself, and Brianna’s dad barked out a laugh.
“When they were toddlers, we just wanted peace and quiet, and now, we can’t wait for them to talk to us again, right?” he asked.
I looked at him closely.
His blond hair was cut short, and he had a wide smile and hazel eyes that looked at me with fascination.
“Oh, I bet, but Lucas isn’t mine,” I said.
“I’m a … nanny,” I added abruptly, finding a general lack of words in the English language that would adequately describe the job I was doing.
“Oh, I see. Do you live around here?”
“In the neighborhood.” I smiled, turning to see that Lucas had searched around for a few flat pebbles and given Brianna one to throw.
They were laughing and talking now, and I let myself relax.
Perhaps what Lucas needed was some kid company.
The man followed my gaze.
“They’re doing just fine,” the man said.
“I bet Brianna’s telling Lucas about her dance school’s ballet show at the Gild Gala. I’m Will, by the way,” he said, smiling at me.
“I’m Chloe,” I said.
“How come I haven’t seen you here before?” Will asked.
“Well, I don’t really get out?—”
“Here you go, Chloe,” Sean interrupted, holding out a cone as he stood next to me.
His dark brows were furrowed, mouth hard and jaw set.
Intimidation was something Sean did well, I realized.
His shoulder touched mine, and I could sense the energy shift and tension rise as Sean looked at Will.
“Will’s daughter was Lucas’s classmate,” I explained, feeling flustered.
My gaze fell on the cones in Sean’s hands, including the one he was still holding out to me.
He’d chosen pistachio for himself, and he was holding out the butter pecan one for me.
“Here,” I said when Lucas and Brianna walked over, gesturing to my ice cream cone.
“Do you like butter pecan, Brianna?”
She shook her head.
“I like cookies and cream though,” she said, looking at the other one hopefully.
“She can have it,” Lucas said immediately, and a flash of pride crossed Sean’s eyes.
“I’ll have the butter pecan.”
Brianna took the cookies and cream from Lucas happily, and the two kids went back to the edge of the lake, searching for more stones to toss into the water, seeming cheerier.
“Will, this is Sean,” I said, realizing the men hadn’t been introduced.
Will looked like he wanted to extend his hand to Sean, but one look at Sean, and he seemed to think better of it.
“Sean, Will was just telling me that Brianna’s dance school has an upcoming ballet performance at the Gild Gala.” I turned to Will.
“You must be so proud of her. I loved ballet, too, back when I was a teenager.”
Memories of my weekly dance classes and my teacher, Ms. Rimms, who always encouraged me, came to mind.
I’d always wanted to give a performance onstage for as long as I could remember.
I had been preparing for the annual Nutcracker performance, when Henry’s accident happened.
The accident in itself didn’t derail my plans.
The unexpected events that followed did.
Months after Henry’s accident and his return home, Dad had left us, never to be heard from again.
I never got to dance once more.
“Well, you should come to her ballet show then,” Will said instantly.
I bit my lip when I realized that I’d shown too much enthusiasm.
I’d been too wistful when I heard him speak about his daughter’s love for dance.
“I could get you tickets if you’d give me your num?—”
Sean interrupted, taking a step closer to me.
“That won’t be happening,” he said, his voice grim.
His hand went to my waist, fingers brushing the bit of exposed skin above the waistband of my pants.
A shiver of longing coursed through me at the touch, but I forced it down.
It couldn’t mean anything.
Sean was doing this to drive Will away.
My face turned red hot with the understanding that I couldn’t be setting up dates while I was technically working for my employer.
Will pressed his lips together.
“I’m sorry. Are you two together?”
He directed his question at me, and I shook my head slowly, still feeling heady under Sean’s insistent touch.
“Oh God, no. Sean is my?—”
“Yes, we are,” Sean interrupted.
My first thought was that he was doing far too much interrupting for my liking before I registered what he’d said.
My jaw dropped.
Will’s hazel eyes flicked from me to Sean and then back to me again.
I could barely conceal my shock.
“Okay, that’s strange?—”
“Chloe is my girlfriend,” Sean said, his jaw set and eyes intense as he looked at Will.
His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me flush to him.
My waist met his torso, his fingers firm as they gripped my bare skin under my blouse.
My heart almost did a backflip at the touch.
His hold was strong, and my awareness of him had suddenly shot up.
To top it off, he leaned in closer, his breath fanning my cheek.
He smelled good by my side with his musky aftershave.
“Sean,” I said, trying to focus and forgetting to use his last name, “I’m not?—”
He didn’t let me finish.
He took a step closer to Will, who was looking at him, a bit dumbfounded.
“Leave,” Sean said. It was a single word, but it was charged and full of meaning.
Will turned his gaze to me, and when I gave him an expression of apology, he called his daughter.
“Brianna,” he shouted, turning on his heel, “we’re leaving.”
He collected his surprised daughter, who didn’t want to leave, but gave in reluctantly, calling out a sad goodbye to Lucas.
He looked crestfallen.
Will stopped on his way past me.
“The ballet show at the Gild Gala is this Friday at six p.m., if you’re interested. I’d love to see you there.”
“ Now ,” Sean said, his voice intense, and Will flinched.
He turned and walked off, hand tight on Brianna’s arm.
I stared wordlessly at their retreating backs before I rounded on Sean.
“What was that?”
He held his pistachio ice cream cone out to me and looked me in the eye.
“I don’t tolerate flirting while you’re on the job.”
“You called me your girlfriend,” I pointed out, ignoring the ice cream.
Sean shook his head.
“I needed him to know that he was crossing a line, so I had to exaggerate. You are my PA after all.”
Before I could retort, we heard a sudden splash.
We turned around at the same instant and saw Lucas, empty-handed, hands curled into fists as he stared at the water.
The half-eaten ice cream bobbed sadly in the lake.
Darn.
“Lucas, we’re so sorry,” I said, going over to put my arm around his shoulders.
“Don’t touch me,” he said, shoving my hand off.
Sean stepped up immediately.
“Lucas, you’ll apologize or else?—”
Lucas faced him, body tense and anger in his tiny, boyish face.
“Or else what?” he demanded.
“What could be worse than you taking away the only friend I’d made?” His voice was clear and pained before he stalked off.
In the silence that followed, I met Sean’s stunned gaze with understanding.
Without any encouragement from me, Sean followed him, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder and stopping him.
“Lucas,” Sean began, his voice rough, “I’m sorr?—”
“You ruined this evening,” Lucas said, stomping the ground with his now-dusty black Skechers.
“Just like you ruined my life. I hate living with you.”
Without missing a beat, Lucas turned to me.
“I need to go home now,” he said.
After a pause, he added, “Please.”
I nodded, feeling troubled and looking at Sean, who was still hurting.
I reached for his hand to give it a squeeze, to let him know that it was okay.
I held his hand for a beat and let go quickly, feeling its absence keenly.
But Sean’s fingers reached for mine again, curling over mine as we followed Lucas out, and I gave up resisting.
When I looked at him, his gaze was already on me.
My breath caught in my chest. His hand was hot against mine, and when he ran his thumb over the back of my hand, the sensation sent tingles all the way up my arm.
It made my heart squeeze in my chest.
I wanted to wrap myself around him, kiss him to oblivion and assure him that things would be okay.
I also wanted to soothe that ache of longing between my legs, but I’d think about that later.
Sean caught me looking at him and his mouth curved up a little.
His hand tightened over mine as if he never wanted to let go.
He didn’t know the real me, just this part of me that he saw at work and bits and pieces outside of work.
If he knew the real picture, he’d run, just like how Bruce had left.
How others before Bruce had bailed too.
We were silent for a while as Sean trashed his ice cream and let go of my hand.
We walked our bikes out of the park.
I felt responsible for this mess, and I wanted to make it up to Lucas and Sean.
We reached the park’s exit, and made our way to the sidewalk, heading to the intersection where I knew we’d have to part ways.
I looked at the son-and-father duo, who were stubbornly avoiding each other, wishing I could leave them in better spirits, when I finally got it.
“Hey, Lucas,” I said, something occurring to me.
“Would you feel better if you got to see Brianna again?”
He snorted.
“Dad would never set up a playdate for me with her. Besides, how would you find Brianna? I don’t even remember her last name.”
I held my breath as Sean turned to me, eyes intense at the memory of Will.
“I know how we could meet her again.” I faced Lucas.
“How would you feel about attending her ballet show at the Gild Gala this Friday night at six?”
I turned my gaze to Sean, noticing how he fought to tone down his disapproval.
He was not keen on the idea of running into Will again.
But Lucas was starting to look hopeful.
“You think Brianna will be there?” he asked, face upturned and eyes lit up with anticipation.
I nodded, feeling a cold, clammy sensation when I realized that I’d be deserting Henry twice this week.
“Her dad told me she would be. Do you want to see her again?”
The ecstatic expression on Lucas’s face was the answer we needed.
“It’s three days until Friday. Will you come?” he asked me, eagerness in his voice.
I looked at Sean, who gave me a firm nod.
I turned and gave Lucas a smile, amused to see his mind ticking furiously.
“I will.”
“Let’s ride back home,” he said and hopped on the bike.
I exchanged a look with Sean, who raised his eyebrows in surprise before nodding.
“Thank goodness,” I muttered under my breath as we followed Lucas.
“But I still want you to know something,” he said.
“I won’t let Will come within an inch of you.”
I gazed up at him, my eyes meeting his deep brown ones.
I felt like I was made of liquid when he looked at me like that.
“I can live with that.”
We walked side by side, our shoulders briefly touching, and Sean didn’t pull away.
“When Will shows up, I still want to be able to call you my girlfriend, even if we aren’t together.”
My heart squeezed in my chest, even as I shook my head.
I played along with this game where I pretended I had a dating life, like normal people.
“Am I really going to have no dating prospects while I’m working for you?”
Sean nodded, his gaze roving over me.
There was something different in the way he was looking at me.
Something that hadn’t been there before.
A guarded sense of respect and perhaps even admiration.
“You could say that.”
“It’s going to be a long six months then.”
His eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch.
“I’ll have you know that most of my PAs haven’t lasted longer than four months.”
I grinned back at him.
“Ah, but I’m not just your PA, am I? As your bonding coach, I might just last longer than six months. And, yes, you can call me your girlfriend at the Gild Gala, if you please. Though”—I chuckled—“that makes me wonder, what do you call the women you really date?”
His intense, probing gaze met mine, and a wave of tingles spread down my arms. His tongue ran over his lower lip as though he was thinking of something dirty, and heat bloomed between my thighs.
“Stick with me long enough, and you’ll soon find out.”