33. Daphne
33
DAPHNE
I have to give Justin points for persistence.
He’s all suited up, freshly shaved and perfectly groomed. My heart should be all a-flutter but instead there’s a cold stone in its place.
I’ve said no and he’s not listening.
That makes me mad.
It makes me wish I had a Medusa stare for real.
He’s with my dad, who doesn’t look impressed, though Mrs. Prescott can’t fully hide her admiration of this prime male specimen in her vicinity.
“Daphne!” Justin says as if it’s a surprise I’ve shown up at work. “I was just waiting for you.”
I check my watch. “I have an appointment in ten minutes, so I hope your errand is a quick one. You must remember how I prefer to be punctual.”
He looks chastened, but just for a heartbeat.
“I did suggest to you that it would be best to call Daphne before driving down here,” my dad says smoothly and Justin’s lips tighten.
So, my dad didn’t tell him where I lived, and didn’t surrender my number. Justin just assumed I’d welcome him back and came down here. He must have looked for my car, the way that Luke did.
Somehow that seems less admirable in his case.
My dad excuses himself, then gives me a wink of encouragement that Justin can’t see before vanishing into his office. I gesture to my office and Justin precedes me. I notice his survey of the space, figure he’s calculated the square footage within five per cent. “You have a window,” he notes and I remember how coveted offices with windows were in the city.
“Best of the best,” I say, sliding into my chair and putting the barrier of the desk between us. “What can I do for you today?”
Justin comes around the desk, perching on it right beside me so his thigh almost touches mine. There’s a predatory gleam in his eyes, a satisfaction with himself that just makes me a little colder. He’s sure he’s going to win me over. I can smell the confidence radiating from him, and I’m looking forward to seeing his expression when he realizes he’s lost completely and irrevocably.
“May I be blunt?” he asks with a charming smile.
“By all means.”
“So, we’re even, Daphne. You’ve had your fling and I’ve had mine.”
Interesting that he places my relationship with Luke first, and that he labels it as a temporary affair. I know better than to let that pass.
“No, you had a fling and we split up. Whatever relationships I may or may not have pursued since that time are of no relevance to you.”
“Don’t be prickly, Daphne.” He reaches for my hand but I move it away. “You know that we should be together. We’re perfect for each other.”
“Except for those times when you want to be with somebody else.”
“You’re playing word games.”
“That is what we’re trained to do.”
“You can’t be serious about this guy, whoever he is. I understand that he’s a boy-toy and some man candy. Not my type but I get it.” If this is a joke, I don’t even crack a smile. “I understand that you have needs and it’s fair that you’ve indulged them. But you’re not getting any younger, and if we’re going to have a family, we need to get started.”
I pretend to be dizzy. “Wait. We’re not just getting back together. We’re getting married and having a family? How many kids, Justin? When are they due? What are their names? Have you booked them into the best pre-schools yet?”
“You can joke all you want, Daphne, but I’m serious. We had a good thing going and we need to get back to that. I can get you a position at the firm again. I spoke to the senior partners before I came down here.”
“You arranged a job for me? Without talking to me first?”
“Of course. You were always very prudent financially. I knew it might be a stumbling block to be without a job.” His gaze sweeps over me and admiration lights his eyes. “You look great today, by the way, as attractive as ever.”
I get up and step past him, standing at the door like a sentinel. He swivels on the desk to watch me, clearly not understanding that I’m going to chuck him out. “You have to leave.”
“Oh, right. Your appointment. Why don’t you cancel, Daphne? I mean, you don’t need clients down here anymore. We can head back to the city early, catch dinner in town.”
“I’m not cancelling my appointment and I’m not going with you, Justin. You have to leave because I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Be reasonable, Daphne!” He stands up, smiles, and prepares to make an appeal.
“You’re not listening to me.”
“You’re not saying anything worth listening to,” he counters, as if that’s reasonable. “You know that I know best.”
“No, I don’t know that. I know that we have irreconcilable views of our respective futures,” I say. “I don’t want to get back together with you. I don’t want a job at the firm again. I don’t want to renovate your kitchen or marry you or have your kids. In fact, I don’t want to see you ever again.” I open the door. “I want you to leave.”
He doesn’t move. “You used to believe we were good together.”
“That’s true. I did. I was wrong. I realized that when you followed your dick to another woman’s bed.”
“Daphne!”
“It’s what you did and I see now that it was inevitable. So, thanks Justin. Thanks for doing it sooner rather than later. Otherwise, we might have been married. My dream kitchen might have been in your house when I realized what a prick you are. We might have had those kids already, and it would have been a lot messier to pick our lives apart. This way it was simple, and as you say, neither of us are getting any younger. I’m glad I still have time to be happy, so thanks for that.” I indicate the open door.
Mrs. Prescott is listening avidly while pretending not to.
Justin looks at me, then at the door, and his jaw sets when he meets my gaze again. Anger has settled in his eyes, the anger of a man who isn’t used to being denied whatever he wants. But I’m smart enough to realize that he doesn’t really want me. I’m no more important than a chess piece being moved into place. For all I know, the senior partners have told him that he has to get married and be settled appropriately before he can be promoted again. For all I know, the union has been approved, like a royal marriage to secure dynasties and maybe add a firmer chin to the future lineage.
I want more.
I want to make my own choice.
I want someone who listens to me.
I want someone who loves me for myself.
“You’re going to regret this,” he says, the exit line of every loser in the history of mankind.
“I’ll get over it,” I assure him and his nostrils flare before he marches past me and leaves. He slams the door of the office, then the door of his car, the engine roaring to life. The tires squeal and he’s gone in a puff of exhaust, racing back to the life he wants.
The one I don’t.
I sit down, my knees shaking a little in the aftermath and the phone on my desk rings. I pick up, say my name.
“Well done,” my dad says with such approval that I smile. “Your mother was right. He was never going to make you happy.”
“I know,” I say and I hear that he smiles along with me.
“I invested in your young man’s venture this morning, by the way,” he says. “And he’s joining us for breakfast tomorrow. Just so you know.”
“You’ve decided that you like him,” I say and he chuckles.
“I have. I like him very much.”