Chapter 7
Seven
AUGUST CURRENT DAY (TUESDAY)
W hen I get to Kallia, Ali is already waiting for her order, practically bouncing in anticipation. I get in line, but she grabs my arm. “I already ordered yours, now out with it; tell me everything about Mitch.”
“You’re not ready for what I’m about to tell you,” I say, pausing for effect and her eyes scream at me to continue. “Mitch . . . is actually?—”
“Warren?” she says just before I can.
My face twists in confusion. “Wait, how did you know that?”
She shakes her head and I realize her eyes are locked on something—or someone—behind me. “No, Warren is here .”
I turn around and I see the Warren from eight years ago, the one who showed up to Kallia after our text exchange with the brightest smile on his face. Looking back, it hurts to know that he was already falling in love with me then, because when I blink, the older Warren is standing there, with the same two blue tulips he started bringing me not long after those texts, but with the hesitant smile of someone who’s uncomfortable, unsure.
“Wait, what ?” Ali grabs my arm so I look back to her and I can tell she just absorbed my words. “You knew he was here?”
“Clara messed up,” I explain quickly because Warren is headed in our direction. “Mitch is actually Warren Mitchell. He’s the CFO of the company acquiring mine.”
“No. Fucking. Way.” Her eyes widen.
I nod as Warren approaches and gives Ali an awkward wave. I never really asked if anyone kept in touch with him after he left, and no one ever brought it up. I assumed Ali didn’t speak directly to him but kept tabs on him. He and Trent were the closest; I wonder if they ever talked.
“Hi, Ali.” His voice is small, like he’s prepared for a verbal assault from her, which is a fair assumption knowing Ali . . . and what he did to me. “It’s been a while.”
“And who’s fault is that?” she asks with a perfect smile on her face. Warren shifts on his feet and I look down as a small smile blooms on my face.
“I know, it’s on me,” he says, and both Ali and I are taken aback. It’s not that Warren didn’t take accountability back then, but he deflected most things with humor. She was expecting a joking response—I was too. “I’m sorry. I really have missed everyone.”
I have never seen Ali speechless, but right now she’s staring at Warren like she’s seen a ghost. His smile falters a little and he excuses himself to go order.
“What happened there?” I snort once he’s out of earshot.
She shakes her head, turning away from the spot he was standing to look at me. “In so many ways, he’s the same, but he also seems so different. More mature and steady.”
“Somehow more attractive too,” I say with a sigh, then snap my lips together when Ali glares at me. I look around as if searching for whoever said that, and my gaze lands on him.
The feel of his body under my arms as he hugged me last night flashes through my mind and my gaze moves up his body taking in all of the changes in daylight. He’s put on some weight, but it appears to be all muscle mass. His tailored pants hint at the curve of muscles on his thighs, and his chest and arms fill out his dress shirt and suit jacket far better than they ever did back then. When I get to his face, he’s watching me with a smile. His face is shaved, his honey hair has grown a little bit, and the last lingering bits of baby face he had have faded into a strong jawline that is highlighted by the smile he’s wearing.
“Be careful, Ana,” Ali says, and I almost jump. She looks at Warren, gaze drifting down to the flowers in his hand. The familiarity of it all weighs on us like a dusty blanket of memories. One that lies forgotten, in a dark corner of the attic for years, but is bringing everything back now that it’s found the light of day. “I know you still care for him, but you’ve been a mess since he left. And he’s only back for a short time. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“I know.” I use all my will force to take my eyes off him. He’s the same man I loved, but he’s grown up—and he grew up well. “I’m doing my best . . .”
“But . . .” she adds, when I trail off.
I sigh. “But, it’s him , Ali. Do you know how often I’ve dreamed of him coming back here, of him finally explaining what happened back then, of us getting to live the life we always dreamed of together? We were so good, until things ended. And there was no closure, no explanation. He’s my one that got away. What if I can get him back?”
“He could be seeing someone else,” she says, lips pressed together tightly. She was our biggest cheerleader back when we were together, but after what he did, she’s not his biggest fan—understandably. Even I wasn’t able to recognize myself after he left. I pulled myself together, but I know she’s worried about what it’ll do to me if things end badly again.
Hell, I’m scared of what will happen to me too.
“He’s not,” I say, too fast, and her eyebrows raise in question. “We went to Il Piacere last night?—”
“Analise—”
“Before you say anything, it was all eight of us from work, and it got booked before I knew he was here.” Her face says: that doesn’t make it any better . “After, I decided to walk home, and he walked with me?—”
“Are you kidding me?” She cuts me off again, louder this time. I shush her and grab her arm to pull her further away from Warren who’s moving to wait for his coffee. “Did he explain why he left? Did you talk about anything?”
I drop my gaze. “I stopped him before we could get that far. I was too scared to hear what he might say so I just said we’ll be professional while he’s here.”
She’s shaking her head, exasperated. “I can tell you right now, that’s not going to happen.”
“What do you mean?” I say, hurt by her casual dismissal of my plan.
“What I mean is, you might say it’s only professional, but he showed up here this morning with blue tulips like he always used to, and you still look at him like he’s your sun. That’s not keeping it professional.”
My face falls because she’s right. I don’t know if we’ll be able to pull off professional.
“You have bigger things to worry about today, though,” she says, and I nod. My gaze drops; I can’t look at him. He doesn’t know what today is because he wasn’t here for it. That reminder keeps my thoughts in check. “Call me if you need me. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow after work?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” I reach out and squeeze her hand as an answer to the other comment. Ali has been my rock though the past five years. She held my hand through the funeral, held me as I cried when I realized I’d lost two parents even though only one of them died, and has dropped everything to show up for me when I needed it.
“What’s happening tomorrow?” Warren rejoins the group with a smile, and Ali and I look at each other wide-eyed, silently trying to figure out how to get out of this.
His smile turns to a smirk, and I know then he knows exactly what’s happening tomorrow—we’ve been going to the same bar for eight years, we’re predictable—but he wants us to invite him.
When we don’t say anything, he adds, “You know I’ve been thinking about checking out The Dizzy Acorn while I’m in town, maybe tomorrow would be a good day for it.”
I groan and roll my eyes. “You’re impossible. Yes, we’re going to The Dizzy Acorn tomorrow.” I glance back at Ali and she’s frowning. But hanging out with the group is better than being alone with him again . . . right? I shrug at her, and she sighs as if in acceptance that this is going to happen one way or another. “You’re welcome to come, although I can’t promise people will be happy to see you.”
Ali tries to cover her laugh with a cough but Warren has the good sense to look hesitant about accepting, although he still does.
“I have an early meeting,” Ali says, “but it was nice to see you, Warren.”
“You too.” He smiles. “I’m looking forward to Wednesday.”
Ali just looks at me one last time before heading out the door and leaving me with the one person I want to be with, and the one person I shouldn’t be around.
* * *
“Oh, these are for you.” He hands me the flowers on the walk to the office. I take them reluctantly, acting as if I’m doing him a favor by taking them off his hands but I get butterflies when his fingers barely graze against mine. “I survived a warzone trying to get these.”
I laugh despite myself. “I take it Lola remembered you and wasn’t happy?”
“That’s an understatement.” He shivers and I laugh again. “You might not think of flowers as dangerous, but she sure knows how to weaponize them. I had thorny stems thrown at me, and she yelled something about how she hopes one of them poisons me, so there’s that. I almost had a heart attack when she grabbed the shears.”
The first time I went into Lola’s to get the flowers on my own, Lola asked what happened and has held a grudge against Warren for it. She’s the kind of little, old lady who doesn’t forget anything either.
“Are you smirking at my pain?” He nudges me with his elbow.
“I can’t deny that injuring you is a thought that’s crossed my mind many times.” I smile at his gaping expression. “It’d be nice if someone else did it for me.”
“Okay, I probably deserve it from you.” We stop at an intersection, waiting for a walk signal. “I’ll give you one hit. I won’t even try to block it.” He pats his bicep and my eyes strain to see every detail his suit jacket is trying to cover. “Come on, I can take it.”
“I’m not going to hit you,” I whisper, looking around at all the people watching us. The signal changes and I push his arm to get him to keep walking. His arms feel bigger, stronger than the last time I held them. My hand clenches by my side so I don’t reach out to touch him again.
“At least, not when you’re expecting it,” I add, just loud enough for him to hear. I laugh when he glances over, trying to figure out if I’m joking or serious.
I don’t know what the answer is either though.
When we get to the office, Peter, Mac, and Jason are in the lobby waiting for the elevator. Jason greets me with a tight smile but only greets Warren with a frown. Peter and Mac are looking at each other with small smiles, almost as if they’re silently communicating.
“I hope it wasn’t too hard to find your way here,” I say, since Jason isn’t being a good host.
“Yes, Clara showed us around before dropping us off last night.” Peter smiles. “It’s a beautiful town.”
“I’m glad you like it. I’ve always loved the charm of the downtown area.”
Peter’s smile is so genuine and kind, he’s not what I expected from the CEO of a health-tech startup. His eyes flash to the flowers in my hand and I see intrigue cloud his features, but he doesn’t ask anything as we all board the elevator.
Warren and I are in the back while Peter, Mac, and Jason stand in front of us. Jason keeps glaring over his shoulder at Warren, eyeing our coffees from the same shop, the flowers in my hand, and surely considering how we were laughing as we walked into the lobby earlier. His anger is so obvious and he’s acting the exact opposite of how we’re supposed to be acting towards the people who are buying our company that I can barely contain my laughter. I cover it up with a cough, but everyone glances my way.
Thankfully, it’s only a short ride to floor three—both for my fear of heights and the strangeness of this silence.
“Let’s meet in the conference room before the meeting,” Peter says to Warren when he starts following me in the opposite direction, to my office.
He nods then leans into whisper, “See you soon,” before walking off with Peter. My chest constricts as he walks out of sight. I’m already much too comfortable having him around and it’s barely been a full day. Fuck. It’s going to hurt when he leaves again. It’s going to hurt so bad.
“I don’t like that guy.” I jump when Jason speaks, not realizing he’s still standing right behind me.
I turn on him. “You don’t need to like him, but you do need to be respectful and professional.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” He looks angry that I’m not siding with him.
“What you did today, can’t happen again.” I emphasize each word. “These people are here because they bought our company. We are supposed to be welcoming.”
“You’re not my boss, you know.”
My lips press into a hard line. And he wonders why I’ve never wanted to go out with him. “Want me to bring this up to Clara? Because I sure as hell can bet you she’d be on my side for this one.”
He scowls, and I fake a smile before walking away, saying a silent prayer that he doesn’t follow me.
As I replace the wilted flowers in my office with the new ones Warren got for me, I can’t help but think: Jason may not like him, but I sure as hell do.