Chapter 20 Lexi
LEXI
The first few weeks at my new job had been rough, but I was finally finding my rhythm.
I was starting to understand how the codebase was stitched together, who to go to when I hit a wall, and how the team liked to communicate.
They were big on e-mails over meetings, so I adjusted, jotting down my questions, grouping them, and reaching out to the people who could help me most.
The constant back-and-forth wasn’t the most efficient use of time, but since it was how things got done here, I adapted.
Bit by bit, I was figuring things out, even if it felt like no one around noticed or appreciated what I did.
Was that the work culture here? To criticize, but never praise?
It was a little after six p.m. on a Thursday on my third week here, when I picked up Evie from her preschool and brought her back to my office, hoping to finish the last of my work while she played on the floor next to me.
My attention flickered between the figures on my screen and Evie. In the corner of my eye, she played quietly with her dolls, their soft babble a comforting backdrop.
My phone beeped with a text message, a request from Mom for money. I read it and typed out a hurried response that I couldn’t help right now, then put my phone back down.
I tried to focus on work again, but a sudden silence fell over my cubicle. The absence of Evie’s soft chatter made my head snap to the side, my eyes scanning the small space. The dolls lay on the floor, and the spot where Evie had been sitting was empty. Even her backpack was missing.
Fear raced through me as I shot to my feet and ran out onto the floor. The entire office was eerie and silent, and my heart sank. Where could she be?
I sprinted toward the elevator to see if she’d wandered there. But the elevator’s doors were open, the car inside empty.
My heart was in my throat as panic seized me. Since the floor was structured like a big square with the elevator banks in the middle, I raced around the corner, checking everywhere. “Evie?” I called out, met only with my own echo.
My heart pounded as I frantically searched under desks and in meeting rooms for any sign of my daughter.
“Evie!” My voice cracked with fear and desperation.
Suddenly, the sound of an elevator beeping caught my attention. I ran forward and turned the corner just in time to see someone in a polka dot dress. Evie’s dress.
Relief and terror collided in my chest as I ran toward her.
Evie walked out of the elevator, her hand held by Jonah in his three-piece suit. His sharp gaze scanned the floor until he spotted me. He immediately registered the panic etched on my face.
My hand flew to my chest, trembling as I closed my eyes. “Evie,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with relief.
Evie wriggled out of Jonah’s grip and ran toward me with a laugh. I dropped to my knees and pulled her into my arms, holding her tight.
“Mom, this is my friend Jonah,” she announced after I’d squeezed her for what felt like forever.
The knot of anxiety in my stomach eased a little when I saw Evie smile at him so comfortably.
“Hi, Lexi,” Jonah said quietly, his voice careful.
“How do you know Mom?” she asked him, tilting her head.
“She’s a friend,” he said, his tone measured.
“Because you both work in the same office?”
I almost laughed despite everything.
“Yes. We work in the same office, Evie,” Jonah answered.
Evie turned to him, rummaging in her little backpack she’d taken with her. “Do you like Doritos?” she asked, holding a chip out to him.
His gaze went to the chip, then back to Evie’s expectant face. “I do.”
“Then you can have one.” She proudly offered it to him.
I glanced at Evie’s pudgy, slightly grubby fingers and was about to explain that she shouldn’t when Jonah nodded and took it from her messy hand. “Thank you,” he said, popping it in his mouth and chewing.
Evie giggled and plopped down on the floor, picking out another chip. “One for Mom,” she announced, and I took it with a grateful smile. Then Evie proceeded to create what looked like a Dorito picnic for her dolls.
I looked up at Jonah, my eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“I found her upstairs on my floor,” he explained. “She must have gotten into the elevator down here, but when it went up and the doors opened, she just walked out. She didn’t know which buttons to press to come back down.”
The reality of what could have happened crashed over me. “Excuse me for a minute,” I managed to say. I turned away from them, and leaned against the wall.
In my peripheral vision, I saw Jonah crouch down next to Evie. He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. “Can you draw me a picture on the back of this? I’ll be right over there with your mom.”
Then I broke down sobbing. All the horrible scenarios played out in my mind on a loop. Evie alone in the elevator, scared and lost. My hands shook uncontrollably.
Two large hands touched my shoulders and I jumped. I looked up to see Jonah’s face swimming in front of me through my tears.
The scent of his cologne enveloped me, a familiar comfort that made my heart ache with a mix of longing and gratitude. He pulled me close without a word, and I could feel the reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat against mine, a silent promise that I wasn’t alone.
I sobbed onto his chest as he held me, saying nothing but just being there. A few moments and a torrent of tears later, the sobs finally died down. I wiped my eyes and checked on Evie, who was still there, before looking back at him.
“You were working late again?” he asked gently while I took a few deep, calming breaths.
I nodded, biting my lip. “I was running behind on my project documentation, so I made Evie wait with me. God.” I put my hand to my forehead, realizing what a fool I’d been.
“I told myself Evie would forgive me later. Once I ace this internship, she won’t remember that Mom was distracted for the past three months.
She’ll understand because it means we got a chance at a better life. ”
His eyes studied me intently, as though he was trying to understand why I felt the need to work so hard, to push myself so relentlessly.
“Mom, look!” Evie interrupted, holding up two dolls. “They’re best friends!”
I managed a tearful smile. “That’s wonderful, sweetie.”
Evie went back to her game, satisfied, and I turned back to Jonah.
“I know I’m not supposed to blame myself, but I can’t help it. I feel like such a mess. Like I’m too young to be a mother. Too immature, too na?ve to be trusted with the responsibility of a child.” My voice shook as I rubbed more tears from my cheeks. “I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”
I paused, suddenly aware of how much I’d just revealed. I’d never admitted this much to anyone, not even Sasha. How did Jonah do this to me? Make me be completely myself around him? Sometimes I made the mistake of thinking we were friends, even though all we’d ever had was lust and passion.
When he spoke next, his voice was thoughtful. “I may not know much about you, Lily, but from what I can see, you’re a fantastic mother already.”
I smiled, warmer and more genuine now. He seemed sincere, and he didn’t look like he was making an effort either. Somehow, being ourselves was easy when it was just the two of us.
I watched Evie for a moment as she arranged her toys in a careful line.
“I’ve been trying to get Evie into a new full-time day care ever since I found out my internship is at a dead-end. And every single place I’ve called has a yearlong waitlist. People are probably putting their kids on these lists before they’ve even conceived them.”
He went quiet.
“I’m doing everything I can to stay on top of work,” I went on.
“But how am I supposed to do that if I don’t know where my daughter’s going to be in a few months?
Where I am going to be in a few months? Every time I catch my breath, something else crashes down.
And no one talks about how hard single-parenting is. They just expect you to figure it out.”
Still, he didn’t say anything.
“For the past few years, my life has been all about Barbie dolls and the constant loop of ‘Let it Go’.” I swallowed. This conversation had gotten too intimate. “Speaking of Frozen, thank you for Evie’s gift, again. She loves it. Why did you send it?” I asked.
“I wanted her to be happy, and I wanted you to feel relaxed, Lexi,” he said. “Like someone who doesn’t look like she’s carrying the burden of twenty people,” he added. “Like the woman I met at the bar.”
I inhaled. I hadn’t been that woman for a while. It was odd that Jonah had zeroed in on the root of my problems, feeling like I simply couldn’t relax.
Evie hummed to herself on the floor as she made her dolls dance.
“I need to show up for the people who depend on me,” I said, leaving it at that. “Not unlike you when you need to show up for the five thousand employees you are responsible for.”
“Yes, but I don’t do it all alone,” Jonah added. “I have a team of people to take care of me and give me downtime when I need it. I have a housekeeper and a cook —”
“—and a masseuse,” I grinned, even while I was intrigued by details of his life.
“Do you really need two people to take care of you at home?” I teased. “Boy, you must be lazy.”
He laughed, and after a thoughtful moment, asked, “Why do I get the sense that it’s been a long time since you had any downtime, Lexi?”
He was right. I hadn’t had anything remotely resembling a holiday, time off, or even a weekend off since Evie had been born. And my good days with Evie were marred by my mom’s occasional requests for money.
“How old is Evie, Lexi?”
“She’s four-and-a-half.”
He considered that. “Were you in college when you had her?”
“Yes,” I breathed out. “I was all of twenty years old, and I dropped out.”
He inhaled. “So that’s why you didn’t graduate from college,” he said, recalling a conversation we’d had on our very first night together.
I smiled to myself. “I have to give it to you, you do have an amazing memory, Jonah. Even if—”
“I’m old?” he teased, understanding correctly where I was going.
I laughed. “Oh God, I didn’t mean it that way,” I said, feeling embarrassed.
“I’m thirty-nine, by the way.”
I smiled. He was constantly proving to me how different he was from my original assumptions of him. But he certainly was older than me. Fifteen years older.
“You asked me about Evie’s Dad. When I was dating him, Evie’s Dad, Dylan, tampered with my birth control, making me drop out of college when I fell pregnant.
I was shocked because I’d been so religious about taking my pills.
Well, Dylan also had a way of twisting everything, and making me question my own memory, even my sanity.
He’d lie and then insist I was overreacting, or that I was too sensitive, or just imagining things.
He kept up the lie until one drunken night, when Evie was a year-and-a-half old, he admitted to tampering with my pills.
I’ve never been able to trust people easily since.
So that’s part of the reason why I don’t date. ”
“I see,” he said, sounding quiet. “And the other part?”
“Well, I don’t want to expose Evie to a revolving door of boyfriends, you know? I want to make sure I date a man who’s serious about me.”
“Define what you mean by serious.”
“A man who isn’t looking for a fling. I want a relationship. One that is messy, emotional, and deals with feelings. Not just sex,” I said.
Before he could respond, the stairwell door slammed in the distance, and I jumped. I assumed the floor was empty, but I suddenly felt very worried. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing us.
Jonah and I were getting closer. He was learning things about me, predicting things about me with uncanny precision. I was admitting intimate, personal things to him that, as my boss, he had no reason to know.
“Thank you for bringing Evie back to me, Jonah,” I whispered, gathering Evie and her toys. “But I need to leave.”
As we got into the elevator, Jonah watched us from afar as Evie waved to him just before the doors closed. His expression revealed nothing.