12. Ford
FORDCHAPTER 12
S ince all I could think about was Emzee, and given that there was only just so much real estate work I could do for MREH remotely, I decided to direct all my energy into winning her back.
There was obviously no point spending all my days in New York inside my apartment just pining for my wife.
I had to take action.
And I’d come up with a great idea.
Knowing full well that I couldn’t get past the security guards at her office without getting the cops called on me, I had to come up with something sneaky.
Maybe even a little…
underhanded. When it came to wooing Emzee, I was willing to do whatever it took.
My plan was deceptively simple.
I ordered lunch takeout—from a Filipino place in the East Village that I knew she’d love—and had it sent to the lobby of her building, where I met the delivery guy.
After paying him a hundred dollars cash for his hat and the food, I disguised myself just enough to sneak past the security desk.
By now, they were used to seeing so many delivery people coming in and out of the building that they barely paid attention anymore.
Once I got off the elevator on Emzee’s floor, the receptionist at the lookingglass offices was happy to point me in the direction of my wife’s desk.
Nobody looked at me twice.
In fact, the office was mostly empty, probably because most people were out for lunch.
Excitement rushed through me as I headed past the cubicles, knowing Em would be surprised.
The food alone would earn me points; I’d never met anyone who was as much of a dedicated foodie as Emzee.
I’d ordered her crispy beef dumplings, crab fried rice with garlic and scallions, and slow roasted pork shoulder in coconut milk.
She would love it all.
But when I rounded the corner to her cubicle, the first thing I saw was that shitbird Andrew Apellido, leaning over Emzee and giving her a backrub.
I dropped the food, seeing red.
“Get your fucking hands off my wife.”
My hands instantly balled into fists.
I didn’t have to look down to know that there was hot Filipino food all over the floor and my shoes, but I couldn’t have cared less.
All I cared about was that douchebag and the way he was touching Emzee.
I stalked over to her desk and got right up in Andrew’s face.
“Didn’t I teach you a good enough lesson last time?”
Andrew basically just growled in my face, which did nothing to settle me down in any way.
As far as I was concerned, he had another beating coming.
But before I could throw a fist, Emzee had gotten in between us, her hands up.
“Stop! What the hell are you doing here?”
“Em—” I tried.
“Get out now, or I’m calling security,” she hissed.
Turning to Andrew, her voice went calm and placating.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was coming here.”
What the fuck was this?
Soothing words for Andrew and nothing but threats for her own husband?
It pissed me off even more.
I wanted to tear the guy’s dick off and shove it in his ass.
“You need to go,” Emzee told me.
I crossed my arms and planted my feet.
“I won’t.”
Emzee’s face softened.
“Please,” she said gently.
“Don’t make a scene.”
Did she think changing tactics and pretending to be nice was going to work?
After what I’d just seen?
Like hell was I leaving my wife with this opportunistic douchebag.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I told her.
“This is my job, Ford,” she said, still using that hostage negotiator tone.
“You’re my wife.”
“Soon to be ex, if you’d just sign the papers,” she said.
“Over my dead body.”
This was the same argument we’d been having since I’d tracked her down in New York, and we kept going round and round, neither of us budging.
This time, however, Andrew was involved—and he kept interjecting, which made me itch to punch him in the fucking face.
“You need to accept that things between us are over,” Emzee said.
“Listen to the lady,” Andrew added.
I did my best to ignore him.
“You still owe me a discussion,” I told Emzee.
“Just the two of us.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said.
“The hell there isn’t.”
“She obviously doesn’t want you here,” Andrew said, throwing out another verbal jab.
“Why don’t you take the hint and go.”
“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business,” I told him.
I felt vindicated when he walked away in a huff.
Now I could actually have a calm, adult conversation with Emzee.
I reached out to her but she sidestepped my hands.
“Are you in love with him?” I asked.
“Is that the real reason you came here?”
Suddenly, everything made sense.
Why else would she have left Chicago—and me—to move here?
So she could work with Andrew.
Be with Andrew. God, why hadn’t I seen it?
Before she could answer me, I realized that Andrew hadn’t really left.
He’d just gone to get the security guard.
And even though I could easily take the kindly older man, I saw that Emzee’s eyes were filling up with tears, and that just about broke me.
Because it was my fault.
So without putting up a fight, I let the old guy usher me out of the building.
Outside, I paced the sidewalk.
I knew I should go. I hadn’t even been allowed to stay in the lobby.
But there was the bench against the side of the building where I’d waited for Emzee last time, and I sank onto it to give myself a minute to think.
I’d fucked up. Again.
Just like I always did with her.
I had meant the lunch delivery to be a fun, romantic surprise…
and now it was just a mess for her to clean up, and she was pissed at me all over again.
Even more likely to go running into the comforting arms of her sleazeball boss, if that wasn’t her intention all along.
If I wanted to win her back, I knew I had to be more mature about the situation.
Had to change my tactics.
Head in my hands, I took a deep breath and tried to look at things from her perspective.
First off, I’d intruded on her day, been aggressive with her boss, and possibly had gotten her in trouble with him, with the addition of potentially embarrassing her in front of her coworkers in the process.
Even if most of them were at lunch, they’d likely gossip about it later.
Not cool.
I hated the thought of it, but I probably owed Andrew an apology.
I definitely owed one to Emzee, but I planned on apologizing to her in a much different way.
Unfortunately, since the only way I could actually apologize to Andrew was to wait for him on the bench outside, that was exactly what I did for the rest of the day.
Time passed, my phone battery died, the sky gradually darkened, and then finally business hours were over.
But of course Andrew was the type to work late, so it wasn’t until almost seven that he emerged from the building.
And I was ready for him.
I just hadn’t expected to see Emzee walking at his side, which almost made me lose it all over again.
But instead, I took a deep breath, relaxed my hands—which had reflexively clenched into fists—and stood.
The minute I did, Emzee’s step faltered, and the smile on her face disappeared.
“You waited for me?” she asked, incredulous.
“Oh my God, Ford. You can’t do this.”
I had barely approached them, but Andrew had already stepped in front of Emzee, subtly shielding her from me.
Poised to protect her.
As if I’d ever hurt my wife.
That piece of shit needed to go, but I knew the best way to get rid of him was to make nice.
I could pretend, at least.
“Actually, I was waiting for Andrew,” I said.
It wasn’t a lie.
“Really,” he said, eyeing me skeptically.
“Really. I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?” Emzee asked suspiciously.
“For making assumptions about your relationship,” I said, even though it was physically hard to actually say it out loud.
I knew that Andrew wanted Emzee—I’d known it in my gut ever since the first time I’d met the guy and seen the way he acted toward her—but I couldn’t let my jealousy get the best of me now.
“And for any trouble I’ve caused, and for barging into your place of business. Oh, and for the mess I made when I dropped the food up there. I’m happy to pay for floor cleaning and to cover anything else that may have been ruined. I’ve been an ass.”
That part was definitely true.
“Well,” Andrew said, clearly taken aback.
I could tell he was surprised by the “bigger man” tactic.
“I appreciate the apology.”
“I appreciate you taking care of her,” I said, nodding my head toward Emzee.
When I held out my hand, he accepted the shake warily.
Then he turned to my wife.
“I have to rush to a thing. Will you be all right?”
Bristling, I kept my mouth shut.
Turning a new corner and all that crap.
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“I’m just going to pick up Munch from the daycare and then catch a cab home.”
Andrew nodded.
“I’ll go with you,” I said.
“So you’re not alone.”
I half expected her to refuse, but the look in her eyes said I’d just scored a few points.
“Okay,” she said. “That sounds good.”
We said goodbye to Andrew and then headed down the street.
I’d say it was a solid win for the new and improved Ford Malone.