Chapter 11
Shane
John from HR ends the meeting as he always does.
"Before I go, are there any questions or concerns you might have for me?" he asks.
"Nothing now. As always, thanks for your hard work," I reply.
"A pleasure, Mr. Matthews. I'll file the employee commentaries along with your responses right away. You have a wonderful day," John says with a smile. Standing, he gathers his laptop, tucks it into his bag along with his notepad, and extends a hand to me across the desk.
We shake hands, and he heads out. Kristen steps in before the door can close, closing it behind her. Always prepared, she has her laptop in hand as she takes the seat John has just vacated.
"Any major concerns?" Kristen asks.
"A few of the employees feel they'd like to see me more involved like I used to be... you know, before Jaime."
"They mentioned your nephew?"
"Not directly, but they alluded to it. As far as they know, I'm still grieving for Claire. But they also noted that meetings used to be more frequent and productive, and that things have changed since I lost my sister."
"What do you think?" Kristen asks, her tone professional but filled with concern.
"I'm stuck dividing my time between Jaime and the office," I admit. But in the back of my mind, I know there's a third distraction, one that I can't quite shake off.
"Shane, maybe it's time to let someone help you out with this. To choose a number two."
"Kristen, there's..."
"I know that trust comes hard for you, but this is what people do when they take on a family," Kristen says, her voice firm yet understanding. "Delegating duties is a regular part of business, especially for a CEO. Shane, your dedication is admirable—no one could run this company the way you do. But you're only one person. You need a right hand, someone you can trust to handle the day-to-day operations, keep the employees motivated, and give you the time you need with Jaime. Perhaps a certain executive you've taken under your wing?"
"You mean Oliver," I say.
"He seems to know things well enough, and you seem to actually like him."
"It's a lot of responsibility... I'll think it over."
"I know you have a history with these kinds of things," Kristen continues. "Trust is hard-earned with you, and for good reason, I'm sure..."
"I'm just cautious of our reputation. The staff and our company all rely on leadership they can trust, and..."
"I get that, sir," Kristen interjects. "I know, but consider if maybe you're being a bit too hard to win over. That's all I ask. Trusting someone, especially after a betrayal, always takes a bit of self-sacrifice as well."
I exhale deeply, knowing she's right—again. "Thanks, Kristen. That's all for now."
"Okay, sir," she replies, leaving the office.
As I lean back in my chair, thoughts of Robert suddenly pop into my head. Memories of all the times he was there for me, supporting and backing me up. Strangely enough, Oliver reminds me so much of him. Both ambitious, smart, and capable individuals. These qualities made Robert an exceptional partner, but unfortunately, according to the FBI reports, they made him an even better criminal. The mere thought of him now sends my blood boiling as I reflect on the trust we once shared and how swiftly he shattered it. I cannot afford to repeat the same mistake I made with Robert.
As I leave early for the day, my mind is a whirl of thoughts about the employees and the idea of promoting Oliver. Robert's betrayal creeps back into my mind, frustrating me, but the smooth jazz on the radio and the thought of seeing Nicole and Jaime help calm my nerves. I imagine Nicole by the pool, her bikini-clad figure more stunning than I've ever allowed myself to imagine. With each day, my excitement grows to see both of them. It's a feeling I've never experienced before—a taste of what it's like to have a family, something I've been missing for far too long. It's what Claire and I were deprived of during our childhood. I always wondered what motivated others to desire a family, but now I'm finally starting to understand.
I cruise down I-85 under a misty gray sky, eager to get home. The rain beats against my windshield, a steady backdrop to the soothing jazz flowing from the speakers. As I turn off the highway onto the forest-lined road leading to the estate, I get a call. A familiar name flashes on the car's console screen: Balina Porter.
I hesitate for a moment, then hit the green button.
"Hello," I say.
"Is that Mr. Unobtainable himself?" Balina's voice is light, teasing.
"I guess you read the article?" I respond calmly.
"Oh, everyone's read it by now—at least the small section of the world that knows who we are," she quips with that familiar wit.
"More your followers than mine, I'm sure," I counter.
"Don't be so sure, Shane Matthews—you've got more fans than you think. How've you been?" Her tone shifts to something more sincere.
"I've been good, actually. A lot better, all things considered."
"That's good. I know I haven't called since just after the funeral, and I feel—"
"Balina, I know you keep me in your thoughts, and you'd be there if I really needed you. Thanks for that."
"As long as you know you can call me whenever you need to, Shane," she assures me.
"I know, Balina. How've you been? Where are you now?"
"Well, technically I'm not allowed to say. The studio is so secretive about these damned superhero movies. All I can tell you is it's really cold."
"Another one of those, huh? Who are you fighting this time—aliens? Robots?"
"This one's actually a team-up," she says, her voice growing excited. "Me and a few of the other heroes form a team to—oh, you know, I've already said too much."
"Sounds fun."
"It is," she assures me. "The cast is great, and I'm so lucky… but that article really got me thinking about some of the fun we had."
"We did have some good times, Balina."
"I was thinking… we're taking a week off starting Friday. I'll be back in the city. Maybe we could… you know, hang out?"
I'd be lying if I said hearing from her didn't feel good. Balina, the lead actress in two of the highest grossing movies last year, had graced the covers of dozens of magazines and won Sexiest Woman of the Year twice. And yet, here she was, asking me out—not her handsome costars, not some athlete or model, but nerdy Shane Matthews. But my heart isn't in it.
"What do you think?" Balina asks.
"I've got Jaime now—not much time to go out. Plus… there's someone else. Nothing official yet, but… you know."
"Ah, I see. Well, good luck. I'm really happy for you, Shane. I hope it works out."
"Yeah, me too."
"So, I guess I'll see you around, and maybe, hopefully, you'll have someone cute on your arm?"
I laugh. "Yeah, thanks. See you around, Balina. Get back to saving the world."
"On the job. Bye, Shane," Balina says before the line goes blank.
The swift strikes of thunder light up the cloudy gray sky as I make the final turn onto the private road leading up to the house. Usually, I'd text Nicole to let her know I'm on my way, but not today. I'm eager to surprise her and Jaime with my early return.
When I walk in from the rain, I find Jaime snuggled under a blanket on the couch, completely engrossed in the singing cartoons on TV. He's so absorbed that he doesn't notice me walking in behind him. I slip off my jacket and unbutton the top few buttons of my suede blue shirt, letting the cool air from the house replace the dampness clinging to my skin. I decide not to disturb Jaime, and instead follow the sound of running water coming from the kitchen.
Nicole stands over the sink, her hands and forearms wet with soap and water. As soon as she hears me come in, she turns, and the smile she gives me is one of the greatest I've ever seen.
"Shane," she says, and just hearing my name on her lips makes me forget all the problems of the day.
All I can think as I look into her green eyes and bright smile is, Why can't we be together?
"You're back early today," she adds.
"Yeah, I thought I'd leave a bit early. Things were slow today."
"Everything okay?" Nicole asks, her voice laced with genuine concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, realizing that I really am—and it's all because of her.
"Jaime's been asking about you," she says, drying her hands with a towel. "He wanted to wait until you got home so we could all read a story together."
I can't think of anything else I'd rather do.
We get Jaime into bed just as the rain begins to pour harder, the thunder cracking loudly with each stroke, echoing through the house. The sound of the storm outside only makes the warmth inside feel more comforting.
I read the first half of the story, right up until the boy in the tale finally discovers the secret map to the magic island. Then Nicole takes over, her voice carrying the story forward. She gets about halfway through her part when Jaime begins to doze off, his eyelids fluttering as sleep overtakes him. She's two pages from the end when his eyes finally shut tight, and his breathing becomes deep and steady. Nicole looks at him adoringly as she stops reading and closes the book. She gently pulls the blanket up over him, but she jumps slightly as a strike of lightning sounds in the distance. Jaime stirs, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment, and he murmurs a soft word before drifting back into a deep sleep.
"What did he say?" I whisper, curious.
Nicole turns to me, her expression tender. "Paulie," she says. "It's his bulldog plushie. We couldn't find it earlier. But I'd better find it now; he might get a little shaken if he wakes up in this storm without it."
"Want some help?" I offer.
She smiles that warm, heart-melting smile of hers and nods. "How about we search over a cup of coffee?" Nicole suggests.
"Sounds good."
We head to the living room, where we begin our search for Paulie. I check under the tables, behind the couch cushions, and even inside the toy chest. We comb through the room with growing determination, until Nicole lets out a triumphant "Ah-ha!" I see her fishing something from beneath the foot recliner on the sofa.
"It's stuck in the gears," she says, frowning slightly.
I move closer to help, and together, we work to free Paulie from the clutches of the recliner, being careful not to damage him. As we work, I realize how close we are—closer than we've ever been. I catch the scent of her vanilla bean shampoo and the faint hint of lavender oil on her skin. A sudden pang of self-consciousness hits me, wondering how I must smell—wet and in desperate need of a shower. But I push the thought aside as we focus on the task at hand.
With a final tug, Paulie comes free, and I hold him up between us, victorious. Nicole strokes the plushie's head, her fingers brushing against mine.
"We make an awesome team," she says playfully, her eyes sparkling.
"Agreed," I reply, my voice a little softer than I intended.
The tension between us is undeniable now, thick in the air. My heart pounds in my chest as we both realize how close we are, our eyes locked in an unbroken gaze. It feels like there's a magnetic pull between us, drawing us closer, inch by inch. Our faces are just a breath apart, and without thinking, I close my eyes and press my lips to hers.
I expect it to be brief, but the kiss lingers, warm and soft, as if neither of us wants it to end. When we finally pull back, Nicole's green eyes meet mine, filled with something I can't quite name but makes my heart swell. She exhales deeply, our hands still entwined, her touch sending a shiver down my spine.
"We should get this to Jaime," Nicole says, her voice barely above a whisper as she places her hands on my shoulders and gently pushes herself up. She holds onto her smile, giving me a hand and helping me to my feet. We stand there for a moment, lost in each other's eyes, before turning to head back to Jaime's room.
After placing Paulie in Jaime's arms and watching him snuggle up to the plushie, we both whisper goodnight. There's no second kiss, no words exchanged about what just happened. Instead, we silently savor the feeling as we part ways, each retreating to our rooms, both knowing that something between us has changed.