22. Spencer
Chapter 22
Spencer
I t was close to six o’clock before I realised Delilah had already left for the day … without so much as a goodbye. She didn’t take her flowers; she either couldn’t carry them or simply didn’t want them. Probably the latter, since I also found the card that was attached sitting in the waste paper bin beside her desk.
I spent the next hour standing by the window in my office, staring aimlessly into the distance, wondering how things between us went south so quickly. Logically, I knew why. I kissed her, brought her to orgasm, and then transferred her to another department. It sounds cold when I lay it out like that, but I did what was best for both of us. I needed to nip this shit in the bud before things got even more out of hand.
The only way to resist temptation is to escape from it.
By seven I now feel like I’m going out of my mind, so I decide it’s time to head home. I can’t function while my head is all fucked up.
Everything I did today was for us, but I’ve inadvertently done the one thing I hoped I wouldn’t … I’ve hurt her. I need to make things right .
When I arrive back at the apartment, she’s nowhere in sight. Her bedroom door is closed, so I can only presume she’s in there.
There’s no beautiful smile waiting to greet me when I enter … no delicious aromas wafting in the air from a meal being prepared in the kitchen. Although Delilah only cooked for me one time, I’d been hoping for a redo.
She had no idea what that moment meant to me. It was the only aspect I enjoyed when I went to her parents’ house that first night for dinner. I was in awe that they sat down for a home-cooked meal as a family because it was something I never experienced growing up. My mother would usually have the chef prepare me something early since I was in bed by the time my father arrived home from work. She would wait to dine with him, which meant I usually ate alone.
I liked the idea that she brought that family tradition into my home.
Crossing the main space, I head towards her bedroom. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach when a thought hits me … what if she’s gone? Have I pushed things too far? My solitude has always been something I preferred, but having her here has made me realise that is no longer the case. I enjoy coming home to her.
When I reach her door, I raise my hand to knock, then pause it mid-air. I place my ear against the wood instead, and although there’s no light coming from under the door, I can hear voices inside. She must be listening or watching something on her phone.
Should I disturb her?
Does she even care that I’m home?
Would she even want to see me if she knew I was?
Has she eaten?
With that last one in mind, I knock. “Delilah, it’s me.” The room suddenly falls silent. “I’m going to order some food, are you hungry?”
Things remain quiet for a beat, so I know she heard me, but when the voices start back up a few seconds later, without a response from her, I have my answer.
Fuck.
Yesterday was Delilah’s last day as my receptionist, and it went by without incident. Simone took her to lunch, which I would’ve liked to be a part of, but I wasn’t privy to an invitation. I didn’t dare send her flowers as a thank-you after the rose fiasco.
I didn’t see her yesterday before I left for work, and apart from a curt “Good morning, Mr Prescott” when she delivered my coffee, she avoided me for the rest of the day. When I was leaving, I noticed that she’d placed a note on her desk for Laura—catching her up to prepare for the handover most likely. She also left the flowers behind. I’m going to miss having her around during the day, and I hope she stops hiding out in her bedroom when she’s at home, so I at least get to see her.
My Saturdays are usually spent at the office. I’m the only one who comes in on the weekends. I use this time to wrap up my week, so I can start fresh on Monday. Today though, I only went in for a few hours. I wanted to be home in time to take Delilah to her other job, but when I got back to the apartment, she’d already left.
I had knocked on her bedroom door again, but when I got no answer and heard no movement, I opened it and peered inside. That’s when I saw her stash. Is she preparing for the apocalypse ?
Locking herself away in her room when I was home, suddenly made sense. On top of her dresser was a case of bottled water, protein bars, and a variety of snacks. It hurt to know she felt the need to resort to this … all in the hopes of avoiding me. For the interim, this is her home too, so she shouldn’t feel the need to confine herself to one space.
Maybe it’s time I started going back to my estate on the weekends. I was only staying here for her. At least she won’t have to hide out in her bedroom if I’m not around.
Damien: Just letting you know I picked up Miss St. James from the restaurant and got her home safely.
Me: Thank you.
Although my driver rarely works weekends, I offered him a bonus to collect Delilah from work when her shift was over. Since I’m not staying at the apartment tonight, for obvious reasons, I still needed to know that she got home safely.
Me: How did she seem?
Damien: A little shocked to see me. She asked why I was there and not you.
Me: And what did you tell her?
Damien: That you couldn’t make it. I didn’t know what else to say.
Me: Did she say anything to you?
Damien: No. She just stared out the window on the drive home. Is she okay? I’m concerned. She hasn’t been her usual bubbly self the past few days.
Me: She’s just going through some things right now.
The guilt I’ve been feeling all afternoon intensifies. I open my contacts and search for Delilah’s number, but instead of calling, I type a text message. Given her actions over the past few days, I doubt she’d answer anyway.
Me: I’m sorry I wasn’t able to collect you this evening. I decided to head to my estate for the weekend, so you’re free to roam around the apartment. I hate that you feel the need to confine yourself to your room. I want you to be comfortable, Delilah. Please eat something healthy. I don’t like the idea of you living off snacks.
I’m not expecting a reply. I simply wanted to explain the situation, so when my phone pings with a message from her, I’m surprised.
Delilah: You went in my bedroom?!!!!!!
Shit.
Me: I knocked first, but when there was no answer, I popped my head in … that’s all. I didn’t cross the threshold. I wasn’t snooping. I came home midmorning to drive you to your job, but you’d already left by the time I arrived.
Delilah: Yet you know I have snacks in my bedroom.
Me: They were hard to miss. It looked like you had a mini convenience store on top of your dresser.
She reads my last text but doesn’t send a reply. I’m unintentionally digging myself deeper into this damn hole.
Me: I’m sorry for everything, Delilah. Truly I am.
Delilah: Yeah, I know. I read your stupid card!
I’ve stayed away for as long as possible. But by midday, I lose the battle and decide to head down to the floor where Delilah is now working, to see how she’s doing on her first day. I haven’t seen her since Friday, and if I’m being honest with myself, I miss her.
I miss everything about her.
I’ve always enjoyed working with Laura in the past, but when she arrived this morning with my coffee in hand, it felt wrong. I wanted my pintsize, sexy little spitfire back. She has single-handedly brought joy into my life and brightens my day just by being her sweet self. Although I’m quite partial to her sass, just quietly.
The nerves kick in as soon as I step off the elevator and onto her floor. I get several side-eyes and double-takes as I pass all my programmers who work in the partitioned office space. I rarely come down to this floor—hence why I initially thought it would be a great place for Delilah. In retrospect, it was a huge mistake on my part. I panicked. It may not undo what has been done, but I’m willing to put in the work to right those wrongs.
When I reach the end of the corridor where Marcy’s office is located, the manager on this floor—and the person Delilah now works for—my anxiety rises. At the doorway, I roll my shoulders a few times, trying to shake off the nerves. It’s crazy how tied up in knots I am over this woman.
I step through the threshold of the doorway and instantly suck in a sharp breath when Delilah comes into view. My heart is racing in my chest as I watch her. She’s sitting behind her reception desk chewing on the end of a pen as her pretty blue eyes flicker between the notepad in front of her and the computer screen.
“Miss St. James.”
Her eyes slightly widen the moment they land on me. “Spencer,” she whispers, dropping the pen in her hand onto the desk.
I step further into the room. “I came to say hi.”
“You did?”
Yes, I’ve missed your sweet face.
“I wanted to check you were settling in alright.”
“Oh, right, yes,” she says, sitting up straighter in her chair. There’s that sass I love.
“Have you had a lunch break yet?”
“No. Umm … I was getting ready to leave for one now.” She opens the drawer of her desk and retrieves her handbag.
My lips turn up at the corners. She’s trying to run from me again, but it will not work this time. “Great.” I close the distance between us and hold my hand out to her. “I’ll join you.”
Her mouth parts, forming a cute little ‘O’. I know just how pillowy those soft lips of hers feel when they’re pressed against mine. “I … umm, have plans.”
When she dips her face, I can tell she’s trying to think of an excuse. What she doesn’t realise is I’m going with her, despite what she says.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my trousers and wait. “What plans?”
Her gaze snaps back to mine. “I have to run some errands ... yes, errands.”
“That’s okay, I’ll tag along.”
“You will?”
“Uh-huh.”
Her lips thin as she slings her bag over her shoulder. “Well, I suppose I can run my errands tomorrow.”
When I attempt to reach for her hand, she snatches it back and crosses her arms over her chest.
I chuckle to myself as I shove my hand back into my pocket. I get to spend the next hour with her, so I’m good with that.
“So, how was your weekend?” I ask once we’re seated at our table.
“Fine,” she mumbles, picking up her menu and holding it up in front of her face.
“Delilah,” I say, using the tip of my finger to draw her menu down.
“What?”
“Can we have a conversation like adults?”
“Oh, so now you want to act your age?”
“You mean geriatric, ancient … prehistoric?”
I see the corners of her lips curve up into a tiny grin. “At least you are finally admitting it, old man. ”
I bark out a laugh. “I’m admitting to nothing. You wait until you turn thirty-two, I’m going to buy you a mobility walking frame, denture paste, and some hearing aids.”
“Hmm,” she hums, rolling her lips to hide her smile. “Don’t waste your money, I can just borrow yours.”
I tap the tips of my fingers on the tabletop as I try to think of something to say that will not push her further away. In the end, I decided to go with the truth.
“I know I’ve already told you how sorry I am, and I’m sure you don’t want to hear it again, but I don’t like where we are heading. Can you tell me what I can do to make things right between us? I’ve missed you, Delilah.”
My admission has her eyebrows jumping. “You do?”
“I’m sure you’ve noticed I don’t have a lot of friends.” I actually have a lot. I’ve just been busy since I took over my father’s company and have had little time to maintain them.
Her eyes slightly narrow. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with your growly personality, would it?”
I find myself laughing again. This is what I’ve missed. Just being in her presence has me feeling lighter than I have in days.
“Possibly,” I say. “Are we good?”
She lifts one shoulder. “I suppose.”
Her response was a little more lacklustre than I had hoped, but at least it wasn’t a no. “So, no more hiding in your bedroom and living off sugary snacks?”
Before she answers my question, the waitress approaches our table to take our orders. I haven’t even looked at the menu yet, so I pick it up and scan over the selections. I’ve never eaten here before, it’s just some hole in the wall, and it makes me wonder if she bought me here on purpose .
I sit back and wait to see what she orders. “Can I get a Cajun chicken burger with fries and a coke, please?”
“I’ll get the same,” I add.
Delilah glances at me over the top of her menu. It’s not what I usually eat, but I’m willing to give something new a try.
For her.