Chapter 23 This is Me
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
this is me
MARK
“This is me,” she says, pointing at one of the terraced houses up ahead. “The one with the red door.”
My driver, Neil, pulls up to the curb of the dimly lit street, and the light illuminating the backseat of the car feels too bright. Rey squints up at me and opens her mouth to say what I guess is ‘goodbye’, but I’m still not ready.
“I’ll walk you up,” I say, because it seems I’m not done surprising myself today.
“No, you don’t have to do that. It’s right there,” she points again.
It is indeed right there. There’s just the pavement, a wrought-iron gate, and then a few steps to the half-lit doorway.
“I wouldn’t want to miss a chance to say hi to that lively dog you talked about.
” I exit the car and walk around to open her door.
For most of the thirty-minute drive, she talked about her brother’s French Bulldog, Beanie.
Which didn’t help me in the attempt to not find her unusually adorable.
Like when she pulled that face after I said I was eating pigeon.
I huff again, holding back the laugh that threatens to bubble up in me again.
What the hell is happening to me?
The way she talked to me in the car—twiddling a lock of hair, picking at the hem of her dress, and occasionally glancing at me, blushing every time our eyes met.
She conveys a lot through her facial expressions, but I’m not sure if I’m just seeing what I want to see, or if she’s nervous because I’m her CEO, and she’s still just terrified of me.
“Oh,” she says when I take her hand, helping her out of the car.
She looks as confused as I feel. I’m not sure who I am right now, but I’m getting desperate to agree with myself about what to do.
I don’t want today to end because I’ll have to come to my senses, and a part of me knows what that means.
But something has shifted in me since Alice. Since Rey.
Except for a few hours this morning, I’ve not worked all day, yet there’s no niggling feeling in my gut that there’s something I should be doing. Am I working every day because there’s nothing else?
This is what I should do with my weekends and spare time.
“Thanks for today,” she says, glancing back at me as she holds the gate open for me to follow.
“Likewise.”
Rey unlocks and opens the front door, and a dog shoots through the crack. He rolls around between her legs, sniffing and snorting at her ankles before he zooms towards me, topples around on the gravel but bounces right back up and runs into my shin.
Jesus, I wasn’t entirely honest about wanting to meet the dog, but now I need to pretend, if anything.
“Hey, Beanie,” I say, and kneel to scratch him behind his ears that seem entirely too big to be standing straight up.
The dog snorts and sniffs my hands, wagging his stumpy tail so hard his whole backside moves from side to side.
“Looks like you’re smiling,” I tell him, scratching under his chin, and he does a snort-sneeze.
“Thank you,” I say, wiping my wet hand on my trouser leg, and keep petting his soft fur with the other. Maybe I do like him a bit.
“He’s going to drool all over you. I’m sorry.”
I look around and take in the house she lives in. Rey, as Alice, told me she lives with her brother. It’s a pretty high-income neighbourhood this side of Victoria Park, but she said her parents live across the park near Mile End. That’s where she grew up, I learned today.
I want to know everything about her, more about her painting past and why her mother pressed her to paint something she didn’t want to, which she revealed to me on our first encounter.
But I’ve not dared dig too deep today, knowing she sees me as her CEO, not as someone she trusts with the truths of her private life.
Not as Robin.
Beanie snort-huffs again and turns away. His mission of covering my hands, shoes, and knees in saliva is complete. Then he kicks off, nearly knocking Rey over as he zooms back into the house.
“Whoa,” Rey says, laughing. “They should rename the breed to French Bulldozer.”
“So it’s a common thing? He’s not just happy to see you again after a whole day out?”
“A bit of both, but he reacts the same way if I’ve been away for five minutes.” She smiles. “It’s nice being greeted like that.”
“What does he do all day when you and your brother are out?” I don’t know what I’m doing, asking all these questions; I just know I want to keep looking at her. Keep hearing her voice.
“Mostly he sleeps, or sits in the window, staring.”
As if on cue, the dog shows up in the bay window to my left, and I chuckle at the sight of him panting against the glass.
I meet Rey’s eyes, and a small line appears between her eyebrows.
Does she realise she was meant to meet me all along? Have I revealed too much? I did my best not to show what she might recognise, although I’m not sure what she’s latched on to from Robin. And I’ve steered the conversation away from me today to learn more about her.
The main thing I’ve learned is that she’s nothing short of amazing. She’s been so sweet and kind, despite presumably fearing me; her demanding, brooding CEO.
I wonder if she knows I was myself with her today. As much as I dared allow myself to be. She brings out the best side of me, even when she’s holding back.
“I don’t know how today happened,” she says, putting a hand on the doorknob. “But it was fun.”
“I thought so too.”
“Hope you learned enough to decide about your investment.”
“My…? Oh yes, my investment in the market … thing.” I want to tell her that I meant my time. With her. “Yes, I believe it can be a good one, but it’s not just my decision.”
“Well, I hope it works out.” She’s inching away, and her face is in the shadow of the doorway. I can’t see her expression.
I breathe out, wanting to say something.
I’m your Robin.
Do you still want him? Me?
Fuck, what am I thinking? I can’t.
“I can’t have anything change in the office,” I say and immediately regret the harshness of the tone.
Bloody idiot, Mark.
“Are you going to go back to being grumpy with me?” she asks, and steps away from the door and back into the light, a small smile making her dimples pop.
“Are you going to keep breaking the rules?”
She breathes in and moves to the edge of the steps. “Mark, I’m sorry I said what I said that first day. That it’s just a job. I understand you took that to heart because Infinio is everything to you.”
She takes a step down.
“I’m starting to see what you mean. I really love that role. It’s made me paint again, which is what makes me feel whole. So I guess if that’s how you feel about your work, I understand it.”
“Thanks for saying that, Rey,” I say, wishing I could reach out and pull her to me.
“Mark, I need to ask…”
Anything!
“What’s that?” I ask instead, trying not to sound desperate.
“Umm…” she fiddles with the skirt of her dress.
What does she want? I want her to want me, but I know I’m being ridiculous.
“Do you think there’s a chance you’d look at what Horace has put together for you?”
“Oh.” The disappointment is sharp in my gut, but it’s my own fault for getting carried away.
“Please? In the spirit of ‘infinite imagination, infinite possibilities’.”
She just quoted my company vision back at me.
“Fine,” I growl and do my best not to stare at her the way I want to as she does a little jubilant dance. “But tell me something.”
“Anything,” she says breathlessly, and I ignore what it reminds me of, biting the inside of my cheek.
“Why is it so important to you? You just started at the company. Why do you care?”
She takes another step closer. My hand moves forward as if by instinct, but I stuff it in my trouser pocket instead.
“I’ve never told anyone the whole story. Not even my friends, many of whom I’ve lost touch with because of it.”
“Go on.” I hold my breath. She’s sharing something personal with me?
“When I started university—I went to UAL, by the way—I loved creating. Every waking moment I’d paint or draw. There was an entire world inside me that had to be documented somehow. It was a bit obsessive, but I just loved it.
“Going to UAL, learning illustration and techniques, I had to do it all in certain ways. It was great to start with, of course, learning how to make things pop, how to layer an environment with different types of paint. How to use colour and shading and light. And my illustrations were popular with the teachers.”
She pauses and brushes a strand of hair from her cheek.
“For the first time since I was a child, Mum was proud of me.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” I interrupt, too curious to wait.
“My father and brother are both in finance, and she’s got a bit of a chip on her shoulder, I guess.
I didn’t live up to her dreams when I chose my creative path.
However, after I graduated, she wanted me to try harder to get famous.
Become part of the artistic elite or something.
But my quirky drawings of this world that I’d created didn’t fit into her grand plan, and trying to paint and draw portraits or abstracts on demand killed the artist in me. ”
I get it now.
She’s found a place for this world she’s created, and she can’t let it go.
Just like Damian when we were teenagers. He’d draw everywhere; all his ideas had to come out.
“You think your world could be a good game.”
“I don’t know that, but Horace seems to think some of it’s worth exploring, at least.”
“Thanks for sharing that with me, Rey. Are you saying you’ve revived the artist in you then?”
“I do.” She grins.
Only now do I realise I’ve been inching closer to her. She’s so close I can feel the heat from her body. Everything is so clear. That smile. Those dimples. Those plump lips.
Without thinking, I reach out, and my hand finds hers. A gasp escapes her, which jolts me back, and I let go.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathe and step back towards the gate.
Did I just make her uncomfortable? Fuck, that’s the last thing I want.
Anger at my reckless behaviour creeps into my gut. I’ve been selfish. I made the wrong decision today, spending time with her like that. This is all wrong.
“Goodnight, Rey.”