Chapter Twenty
Two and a half years later
May 2021
“W elcome to the United States, we hope you enjoyed your flight,” are the first words I hear when I’m back on Pennsylvania soil for the first time in almost two years.
“I did, yes, thank you.” I smile at the flight attendant as I get off the plane and make my way through the terminal. I can’t believe I haven’t been home in two and a half years. My parents came to visit a lot, using the fact that they had a daughter abroad to travel to Europe multiple times. Autumn and Shane came a few times too, and we even spent last Christmas in Paris together. I contemplated staying another year, but Autumn is finally getting married after what my parents dramatically deemed the longest engagement in the history of the world, so it was time to come home.
I tried to tell myself that it had nothing to do with the fact that my married ex-boyfriend is finally no longer married. The year of separation somehow turned into almost two years of back and forth, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that he’s finally divorced. I half expected him to show up on my doorstep the second he was free but he didn’t.
Maybe because you’ve barely talked to him.
There was a change in structure, and the Paris team had its own in-house senior leadership, so I didn’t report directly to Chris anymore, and with there being no reason for us to have any contact, we haven’t talked. There were a handful of multi-person Zoom meetings we were on at the same time where I’m sure his eyes were trained on me the entire time, but we hadn’t uttered more than a few business-related words on a group email chain in over two years.
I didn’t stay away just because of Chris, but I’ll admit he was an incentive. I didn’t want a front-row seat to his messy divorce. I knew one look from him or one drunken night from me would have had us back in bed together. Neither of us had the power to stay away from each other, so I kept an ocean between us to prevent the temptation.
On top of that, I thrived in Paris. I’ve moved up substantially in Beckham Securities. I’m coming home to a promotion and I’m preparing to train some of the new hires. I left home as a way to escape my life but somewhere along the way, it actually became my life.
I had the majority of my things shipped home, so I easily make it through the airport toward my sister who I see bouncing up and down next to her car with a sign that says, Welcome Home! You’re never allowed to leave me for this long again. She pulls me in for a hug and squeezes me tightly before letting me go with a smile.
“I’m so happy you’re back,” she says with a watery smile, and I nod.
“I am too.”
“You should also be happy that I talked Mom out of a huge welcome home party for you.”
“Bless you.” I sigh as I slide into the passenger seat and she pulls out of the pick-up lane. “I know we talk all the time, but I feel like I have so much to tell you.”
“Since we talked last night?”
“I know…it’s just…you’re here! And thank you for coming home in time for the shower.”
“Of course. I’m your maid of honor.” I haven’t done most of the basic maid of honor duties while I was in Paris, but I at least want to be here for the party this weekend.
I’m exhausted and a little bit jetlagged, so Autumn doesn’t ask me too many questions but just as we are turning onto our street, she asks me the one I know she’s been dying to ask.
“So, how is tomorrow going to be? Seeing him and all?”
“I don’t know.”
I stayed up practically half the night last night, my nerves and anxiety disallowing me from sleeping soundly over the thought of our first interaction. Would it be awkward? Uncomfortable? Tense? Sexually tense?
“Are you going to call him?”
Part of me wants to break the ice but maybe he thinks there’s nothing to talk about. Maybe he’s moved on.
Am I being immature for not contacting him?
Why hasn’t he reached out to me?
“Do you think I should?”
“I think a simple call to see where you two stand wouldn’t hurt. You don’t want to run into him tomorrow in mixed company and neither of you know how to act,” she says as she pulls up to our parents’ house.
“What if he has a girlfriend?”
She raises an eyebrow. “You were doing a lot more while he had a wife; I don’t think you calling him after two years will be a problem.”
“No, I know. Just…what if he has a girlfriend?”
Her lips form a straight line, realizing what I’m saying. That I may not be ready to be thrust back into a situation where Chris Holt isn’t available for me. She reaches for my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Then he has a girlfriend.”
I’m staring at my phone later that night, trying to decide if I should call him. He must know I’m back in town and he hasn’t reached out to me either. I’ve already unpacked most of my things and my closet is practically overflowing with stuff I bought while I was there. I reorganized my closet twice as a way to distract myself from obsessing over my first interaction with Chris and I have come to the realization that I need more space.
It might be time to start thinking about my own place.
I grab my phone and hover my thumb over his contact before pressing the button to call him. I’m used to Chris picking up on the first ring so when it rings more than once, I’m already convincing myself that he doesn’t want to talk to me. His generic greeting comes through the phone and I know I only have a few seconds to decide if I’m going to leave a message before the beep comes through the line. My mouth opens but no words come out and I shake my head as I end the call cursing myself knowing that now he’ll have a missed call and a voicemail from me.
I wish I’d just sent him a text instead.
I barely sleep that night, my eyes refusing to close at the thought of what the next day will bring. He hasn’t called or texted me back and I’m already picturing all of the potential awkward conversations we could have tomorrow. Around three in the morning, I manage to drift off to sleep with the potential interaction of him telling me his new live-in girlfriend didn’t appreciate my nine o’clock phone call playing on a loop in my mind.
12:00 p.m. One on One Touchbase (1 hour)
Marissa Collins, Dana Ashcroft-Human Resources
Location TBD
The email with the update to my calendar is the first thing I see when I wake up the next morning, and I assume it’s a follow-up about my promotion and my new position and everything it entails, but I still feel a slight pang of worry that it could be about something else. The rest of the email states that I don’t need to come into the office before the meeting in case I’m still feeling a bit jetlagged, so it’s on my mind for the entire morning. At noon, I’m walking into a bistro across town, my mind still on the fact that Chris hasn’t been in contact. I’m being led towards the back where there’s apparently a private room and I have a moment of déjà vu. I shake the memory of my first official date with Chris from my head just as the hostess gives me a smile and motions toward the room.
I push through the door and all of the air leaves my lungs when I see Chris sitting at the table, a small smile pulling at his lips as he rests his forearms on the table. My mouth drops open in shock as I move slowly through the room, and he stands. He looks just as gorgeous as I remember, dressed in a gray suit like maybe he’d come from a meeting. I was so unprepared to see him that I can’t even speak.
“Remember me?” He gives me a cocky grin and my heart squeezes at the look he’s giving me.
I move quicker to close the space between us, dropping my bag in the chair, and then I’m in his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my face to the skin, the tears building in my eyes as he holds me tight against him. My heart feels like it’s beating so fast it could pound out of my chest, and I am struggling to control my breathing. I inhale deeply which does nothing for my nerves because I’m just breathing him in. Breathing in his scent that has the power to turn me on and also make my heart flutter. His hand trails up my spine, pushing me harder against him and then his lips are dragging across my forehead gently.
“I guess that’s a yes,” he jokes and I pull away, trying to wipe the tears from my eyes but he swats my hands away so he can do it himself.
“Chris,” is the only thing I manage to choke out as he guides me into a seat. He sits in the one closest to me and somehow it doesn’t feel close enough. I want to be in his lap. Hell, I want to be naked and in his lap.
“Welcome home, baby,” he says and my eyes snap to his because if this is his reaction to me coming home, what was last night about?
“I called you last night.”
“I saw.” He chuckles as his index finger traces my knuckles. “Thought I might give you a taste of your own medicine for ignoring me for over two years.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Not a peep out of you for that long? Drove me fucking crazy.”
“It’s not like you reached out either,” I argue.
“Yes, I did.”
“When?”
“I emailed you. Constantly. I figured at first you weren’t responding because I was still married, but I wanted you to know I was still thinking about you. I was always thinking about you. About us. ”
I frown. “I…I never saw an email from you?”
It’s his turn to look confused as he pulls out his phone and looks through it for a moment before he hands it to me and I see an email chain of at least fifty emails all addressed to me. I scroll through a few of them, some of them long and some of them short but all of them unfamiliar.
“I…I never saw these.” I grab my phone out of my purse and pull up my emails.
“Sounds like you blocked me.” He laughs and I look at my phone and then back at him trying to remember if I had at some point.
I scroll through them for a minute, unsure of how I would have even done it before setting my phone down, prepared to look into that later. “Why didn’t you call?” I ask because I know for a fact that I didn’t block his number. I’d gone to text him at least half a dozen times over the past two years.
“I thought you were done with me,” he says sadly. “Especially after all the unanswered emails, but more importantly, you asked me not to try to get you back until I was divorced. I’ve only been officially divorced for about a month and I knew you were coming home. I figured it would be better to do this in person.”
“You’re…officially divorced?” I need him to say it again. Maybe a few more times to believe it. To believe that this man that I’ve been thinking about for almost three years now is finally single.
“I am.” He nods. “Fucking finally.”
“Where do you live?” I ask him.
“My penthouse. We sold the house.” He sighs. “One of the many things she got half of.”
I bite my bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. All of that was just stuff. Replaceable. I wish it didn’t take me so long to get that.”
“Was it messy?”
“If you bothered to read any of my emails, you’d know,” he teases and a smile pulls at his lips. “I gave you a play by play.”
“I don’t know what happened,” I tell him honestly. “I must have blocked you? Maybe when I was drunk?” I wince as I rub my forehead, trying to trigger a memory of blocking him. “I’m sorry. I have to check when I get home. You can only access blocked emails from your computer, I think.”
“I guess I deserved that.” He laces his fingers with mine. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. I hate to think that you spent that long thinking I didn’t care about you or us.”
“I didn’t think that. I figured you were being true to your word. You didn’t want there to be any contact between us until I was divorced.”
“Where’s Holly now?” I ask. “Do I have to worry about running into her?”
“For now, maybe,” he says and I hate the thought of potentially running into her while we are together, “but don’t worry. Part of our divorce agreement states that she can’t speak out publicly about any of the women I was rumored to have had an affair with.”
“Because of me?”
“Yes,” he tells me honestly. “I’m trying to be the person who protects you for the rest of your life. I had to start somewhere.” My skin heats and I tuck a hair behind my ear. Then there’s a hand reaching out to drag my chair closer to his, and I feel the vibrations of the chair scraping against the floor through my entire body. Then his hand is on my cheek forcing my gaze to his. “Do I still have a chance at being that person?”
I look at his lips and then into his blue eyes which are so full of sincerity. “Yes.”
The grin that crosses his face is so devastatingly beautiful, it takes my breath away. He presses his forehead against mine and lets out a slow breath. “Finally,” he whispers and then he presses his lips to mine. It starts slow and gentle. His tongue licks at the seam of my lips, asking for access to my mouth, and then he’s inside, rubbing against mine slowly. He flicks his tongue against mine and then grabs my hands, pulling me into his lap to straddle him, allowing the kiss to deepen. My hands are in his hair, his in mine. I grind down hard on him and he groans into my mouth at the pressure. He pulls away from my mouth after some time, his lips finding my neck and the space behind my ear which he must have remembered is one of my favorite spots because he drags his tongue upward before nibbling on my ear.
“Chris,” I moan.
“Fuck, I missed hearing my name on your lips.”
“I missed saying it.”
“I missed you ,” he counters and I pull his face out of my neck so I can press my lips to his again. I don’t know how long we make out, but at some point, the door opens and when I turn towards the sound, I see someone bringing in two salads. I am slightly embarrassed over being caught making out in a public restaurant, but Chris seems unfazed as he nods at the waiter before he leaves.
“We should stop before I let you fuck me here.” I giggle as I try to climb out of his lap.
He holds me tighter against him and places a gentle kiss on my nose. “As much as I would love that, I have plans for the first time we make love again and it doesn’t involve this restaurant.”
“Do I get to know these plans?”
“Stay with me tonight?”I nod without a second thought because there is no place I’d rather be. His hand slides between my legs and under my skirt, pushing my underwear to the side so he can rub his finger over my clit. I gasp at the friction and he smiles up at me. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already wet.” He nods and gives me a cocky smile. “Did you get wet when you saw me siting here?”
“No.”
He pinches my clit and I squirm against him, as the feeling shoots through me like a bolt of lightning. “Liar.”
“I still don’t like being asked questions you already know the answer to.” He rubs me for a few more moments before he lets his hand slide out from between my legs. I assume he’s going to slide his fingers into his mouth but what I do not expect is for him to swipe his wet fingers across my own lips. After only a second of him coating my lips with my own cum, he drags his tongue across my mouth before kissing me again.
“Do you have to go back to the office?” I flutter my eyelashes at him and he chuckles.
“As much as I want to say no, I do and so do you.” He raises an eyebrow at me.
He eventually lets me out of his lap to sit back in my chair, but one of his hands continues to rub mine almost like he doesn’t want to stop touching me after all this time of no contact. “I assume we have to keep it quiet at work?”I ask.
“For now, yes. Until I figure out how to get around the fraternization policy.” He drops his hand to my knee and rubs it gently. “But I’ll figure it out. I’m not hiding you or this forever.”
I nod. He was able to get through a messy and difficult divorce, so I know he can figure this out.
“Speaking of not wanting to hide, one of the reasons I came home early is because of my sister’s wedding in a few weeks but they’re doing a couple’s shower this weekend. They’ve been together forever and have practically all the same friends so she didn’t want to do just a bridal shower. It’s more like a second engagement party.” He nods before taking a bite of his salad and I lean an elbow on the table. “I don’t think anyone there would know I work for you, if you’d like to come.”
He laces our fingers together and brings mine to his lips. “So, you’re ready for me to formally meet your family then?”
“If you are.”
“I was ready to meet them two years ago.”
“And imagine if you had! You’ve already got some work to do because my dad is still confused as to why he didn’t meet you back then.”
“Oh, I’m blaming you for that.” He laughs. “I would love to go with you. When’s the wedding?”
“Next weekend?” I wince, knowing that it’s kind of late notice. “Sorry, I know that it’s kind of last minute.”
“My schedule is wide open for you.”
Later that day, I’m at the office, and after going through all the pleasantries of being welcomed back, Christine is walking with me to my cubicle.
I’m not surprised to see someone sitting on the other side.
“Oh! This is Raegan Graham.” Christine points just as the woman with dark brown, almost black hair turns around and gives me a shy smile and a little wave.
“Hi.” Oh my gosh, she is so cute and tiny, I just want to put her in my pocket.
“Mr. Beckham’s new assistant. She just started a few days ago,” Christine explains.
“Oh.” I let out a breath and take a step towards her. “Are you okay?” I whisper. “Blink twice if you need help,” I joke and Christine giggles behind me.
“No, he seems to like her,” Christine says and when I turn around, I see she’s looking down at her phone. “I’ve got to run, but drinks tonight? I’ve missed you!” she says with a final hug before turning to walk away.
I turn back to Raegan who’s still looking at me like she’s nervous. “I’m Marissa.”
“Collins. Right. They told me.” Raegan points at her desk and then toward mine. “They said you sit at that one, but if you would prefer this desk, we can switch,” she says. “I’m sorry that you’re coming back after all this time to someone in your space,” she rambles as I set my purse on my desk.
“Oh my god, please breathe. I am happy to have someone to talk to.” I cross my arms over my chest. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Oh, fresh out of college then. Where’d you go?”
“Penn State.” She fiddles with a pen in her lap.
I cross the cubicle to her side and lean on the desk. “Okay, enough of the basics for the moment; what I want to know is how you got Mr. Beckham to like you after only a few days.” I sigh. “You should be training half of us.”
“Oh.” She blinks her blue eyes a few times as if she’s confused. “He’s very nice. A little direct and terse at times but…” She trails off, “He’s been great. I heard he’s had quite a few assistants before me, but he’s not too difficult.”
As if his ears were burning, I hear his voice down the hall and when I peek my head out, I see he’s walking towards our cubicle.
“Miss Collins, I just wanted to say welcome back. I’m very pleased with the work you all did over there,” he says to me but I don’t miss that his eyes flit to Raegan every few seconds.
“Well, I appreciate the opportunity. Thank you.”
“And I see you’ve met Miss Graham?” He gestures towards Raegan. “I hope you can offer any assistance she may need.” He looks at her again and Raegan smiles.
“Of course, I’ll take care of her,” I tell him. He nods in response, and if I’m not mistaken, I see a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Thank you,” he says before he disappears.
“Oh my god?” I blink at her. “I never thought I’d see the day.” I chuckle as I shake my head and she looks up at me confused.
“What?”
“Wes Beckham has a crush on someone.”
She stands up and peaks her head out of the cubicle, presumably to make sure he’s far enough away to be out of earshot before turning back to me. “Who?” she asks in a hushed tone.
I raise an eyebrow at her because she can’t possibly think I’m talking about me. “Ummm you?”
“Me!?” she exclaims while still keeping her voice low. “He said like three sentences and they were to you!”
“He was so nervous and kept looking at you. Oh my god.” I blow out a breath. “Phew, the tin man has a heart. Go figure,” I joke and she’s still staring at me with a stunned expression like she doesn’t quite believe me. “Do you want to go out for a drink tonight? I’ll invite Christine too, so I can catch up on everything I’ve missed and we can give you the lay of the land in the office.”