6. Dylan
6
DYLAN
I ’m still fuming as I make my way back to my desk. I must be a better actress than I thought because Parker seemed to have believed that I was truly upset with him. Speaking to him with such vitriol nearly caused my heart to break into two again, but it’s just easier this way. The bigger wall I can build between us, the better I can protect myself.
I truly thought that he was going to lie down and take it until he made that comment about my ass. What was that? And why did I like it so much? God, my heart is such a traitor sometimes. Or should I say my lady bits. It takes everything in me not to picture being underneath him again.
Sex with Parker was always great. More than great, actually. He’s one of the few men on this planet that can find the clit. That in itself deserves some kind of trophy–yes, I am aware that the bar is in hell.
I shouldn’t have such low standards, but I had my fair share of less-than-stellar experiences during my single days. I’ve had multiple (yes, regrettably, more than one) men rub my inner thigh and walk away feeling like a champion because I didn’t have the heart to tell them they weren’t even remotely close. If there were an award for faking orgasms, I’d come in first place every time.
I can’t help but wonder if it would be different with Parker now that we’ve gotten a few more years–and people–under our belt. My mind wanders to what it would be like pressed beneath those muscular, tanned, tattooed arms while he takes his time worshiping my body, licking every square inch of warmed flesh.
Seconds before I run into an open office door, Katherine’s shrill voice breaks me from my dirty daydream, dousing me like a bucket of ice water. Why the hell am I picturing a naked tryst with my ex-boyfriend in the middle of the office anyway?
“Diana! My office. Now.”
At this rate, I know she’s getting my name wrong to get under my skin. There’s no other explanation as to why she would have gotten it correct when she’s trying to look professional in front of two ridiculously hot men. I roll my shoulders and neck out, resigning to my fate before I march into her office.
I was planning on talking to her about getting out of this project, but I didn’t think today would be the day. I figured I’d at least have a day or two to give myself a pep talk. I desperately need a scalding hot shower to help wash away the dread living in my gut from the moment I walked into that meeting.
I lift my chin, feigning confidence as I walk in.
“Yes?”
She’s sitting down at her oversized oak desk, which rests against a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Bryant Park. The sun is beginning to dip below the tall skyscrapers, and if I wasn’t terrified to breathe around this woman, I might be able to enjoy the view. The way hues of vibrant pinks and yellows paint the sky and reflect off the glass windows of the towering buildings.
I always thought Woodland Heights had breathtaking sunsets, but there’s something about seeing them in the big city that makes me feel infinitesimal. It acts as a reminder that I’m just a blip on something much greater than my mind can ever comprehend.
“You heard them in there. This is going to be one of our biggest clients to date if everything goes smoothly. I’m going to put Scarlett on this project, but I need you to be there to assist her with anything she needs. I’m putting a lot of faith in you on this one. I don’t exactly think it’s warranted, but she suggested I choose you to help. Don’t make me regret this,” she commands, dragging me out of my thoughts.
“About that…” My voice trails off when she lifts her head and shoots daggers at me with one cold look. I’m not typically one to back down so easily when it comes to people like her, but she holds my entire future in the palm of her hand. Between Parker and her, it looks like I’m going to have to find a new therapist earlier than I thought.
“You have something to say?”
“I just don’t think I’m the right fit for this project.”
“At least you and I see eye to eye there,” she scoffs. “But if you refuse to help with this project, I have no choice but to let you go.”
“W-what? You can’t do that!” I stutter, my voice quivering. I knew Katherine was malicious, but this was a new low, even for her.
“I can and I will. There are hundreds of people out there who are chomping at the bits for your position. It will take me less than a day to find someone more than willing to work on this account. So what’s it going to be? Do I need to find your replacement?”
I clench my jaw and count to four, taking steadying breaths. I’m seeing red, and I know if I speak too quickly, I’ll jeopardize my job, which is already on the chopping block. This may not be shaping up to be the dream job that I once envisioned, but I still need to make a living. Now’s not the time to be rash.
“No. I’ll do it. Thank you for giving me a chance.”
“That’s what I thought.” She shoos me away with a quick flick of her wrist.
If I weren’t so excited to get home, I’d run to the store to pick up the supplies to make a Katherine voodoo doll. Come to think of it, that could be a fun way to spend the rest of my evening. I bet I could get Amelia in on it, too. All I’d have to do is explain how she spoke to me today, and she’d be stabbing that thing with a vengeance. If Amelia is one thing, it’s loyal to a fault.
I find myself laughing under my breath as I go back to grab my purse from my desk, feeling infinitely lighter already. I take one last large inhale, collect my stuff, and leave the office for the day. As I head towards the subway station, all I can think about is how the hell I’m going to explain this to Amelia without having to hear that this is the universe’s plan for me.
This should be fun.
I throw my keys into the small ceramic bowl on the small entry table and slump against the front door, letting my tote fall off my shoulder and onto the floor. I genuinely thought it couldn’t get worse than seeing Parker on my flight, but after seeing him at work and dealing with the devil reincarnated, I’m second-guessing this move.
“Dylan?” Amelia’s voice calls out from the kitchen.
“Yeah, it’s me.” I stride into the kitchen to see her sitting cross-legged at the dining table, chowing down on a bowl of ramen. “Who else would it be? ”
“You never know. I’ve had the locks changed a few times, but I have been known to give the keys to a man after a couple of dates, so you can never be too careful,” she replies nonchalantly, mouth full of noodles.
“That’s reassuring to hear. Nothing like knowing a random man can pop in at any point in time.” A shiver snakes up my spine at the thought. Maybe I should get her self-defense classes for Christmas. I’ll look into that tonight.
“It’s only happened once. Or twice. Hard to keep up.”
“You’re not helping.” I sigh as I sit across from her at the table. I haven’t looked at myself all day, but I know if I caught a glimpse in a mirror, I’d see deep, dark circles under my eyes, pallid skin, and wind-blown hair. I’m still adjusting to the New York weather, and even though the subway station is only a ten-minute walk from the office, the crisp weather really does a number on you.
She looks up at me, dropping her fork immediately when she sees the state I’m in. “What the fuck happened to you?” Lovely.
I groan, cross my arms on the table, and bury my face.
“Hold that thought.”
I continue to stare at the ground, making note of the intricate designs of the maple herringbone wood floors. If I wasn’t in such a shitty mood, I could appreciate just how beautiful this apartment is. I’ve lived here for a little over a week, but it still feels like an extended vacation more often than not.
I hear shuffling from across from me, followed by a thud on the table. I glance up to see a bottle of red wine and a wine glass now sitting very close to my face. Before I can move a muscle, Amelia’s pouring me a hefty glass. One glass won’t hurt–not after the day I’ve had.
“You look like you could use that.”
I don’t bother responding. Instead, I collect myself and take a few sips of the Cabernet she poured for me. I cherish how it warms my insides, instantly making the harsh thoughts in my head hazy. I place the glass back down, close my eyes, and bring my fingers to my temples, rubbing out the knots that slowly formed throughout the day.
“Parker showed up at work today. Thrive and Blue Bird are partnering on marketing for a debut author. Katherine wants me to help with the account. She doesn’t believe in me, but Scarlett requested me as her right-hand woman, so I don’t really have a choice. I tried to get out of it, but Katherine told me I’d be fired if I didn’t take the job. So I have to spend the next god knows how long working side by side with Parker while my witch of a boss is breathing down my neck,” I prattle.
I gulp for air before taking another large swig of my wine. I already know what Amelia is going to say before the words even leave her lips, and I feel my posture go stiff as I brace myself for the response.
“Okay, Dyl, take a breath. You look like you’re quite literally going to explode.”
“I feel like I’m going to,” I moan as I place my head back into the crevice of my arms.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but one of us has to be the voice of reason right now, so I’m taking it upon myself. First the airplane, then the bar, and now this. Do you think this is the universe’s way of saying you two belong together? I have a better chance of winning the lottery than all of this. Remind me to go to the store tomorrow to pick up a ticket or two, now that I think about it. Or maybe you can do it for me? If this is the luck you’re having, maybe you can rub some off on me.”
“Amelia, focus,” I chide.
“Sorry. I’m just saying. Chances like these are few and far between. The universe is giving you a message loud and clear. These things don’t just happen just for the hell of it.”
As much as I love Amelia, this is why I was dreading coming home. I don’t need anyone telling me this is fate. I need someone to tell me that it was, and always will be, Parker’s loss. I need the reminder that seeing me is exactly the punishment he deserves after leaving me all those years ago.
“I love you, but that’s the last thing I want to hear right now. I need you to tell me how much Parker sucks.”
“You know I’m always going to keep it real with you. I pride myself on being honest. As much as I support the “fuck men” train you’ve been on this past year, I’m having a hard time genuinely understanding why you’re struggling with the idea of working with Parker. Just because you two have to work on a project together doesn’t mean that you’re meant to fall in love again. Of course, I can’t think of anything more perfect. But you came to New York to live out your dreams and be the best damn marketing assistant you can be. So why are you letting a man get in the way of that?”
I slam my hand down on the table, causing it to shake on impact.
“Because he’s not just some man. He was the love of my life. I already spent months…no, fuck it, years, getting over him. I moved to a new city to start over. The last thing I need is to spend every waking second of my professional career cozying up to him when I’m trying to make the most out of my job!”
She pulls her bowl closer to her to avoid being hit, and the sight makes me flinch. I didn’t mean to get this worked up.
With her hands up in surrender, she says, “I get it, Dee. I really do. But just because you two have a history together doesn’t mean you can’t work together. I know you. You’d never let anything come between you and making your dream come true—even men named Parker. There’s no point in letting that get under your skin now.”
I let out another discouraged sigh, giving in to her arguments. She has a point, but her judgment is a little clouded. She’s the definition of a hopeless romantic (even if she has a funny way of showing it). She also thinks the cosmos are giving her signs every chance they can. Sometimes, I wish I was as delusional as her. It seems like a happier life to live.
Unfortunately, once my dad got sick, I stopped knowing what to believe in. As much as I want to think there’s some divine force bringing Parker and me back together, those hopes were dashed the minute he passed away three years ago.
“You’re right, Mia. I’m not going to let it ruin the one thing I’ve worked so hard for. But just because I accept it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“That’s what they all say,” she sing-songs.
I take one last swallow of my wine, emptying the glass before pushing myself up and off the table. As I move to put the glass in the sink, I find myself swaying on my feet, the wine hitting me harder than I expected. I grip onto the table’s edge, steadying myself. The head rush is welcomed after feeling uneasy all day. At least now I can breathe a little easier.
“I mean it.”
“I think you’re going to change your mind sooner rather than later. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get ready for a date.”
I glance down at the clock on the oven. How the hell is it only seven p.m.? And how the hell am I tipsy on one glass of wine? My tolerance has definitely gone down.
“A date? It’s a Tuesday night. Where could you possibly be going?”
Amelia gives an indifferent shrug. “I matched with a guy on Hinge. We’re going to grab drinks at Barely Disfigured.” She walks over to me and places the bottle of wine next to me before giving me a peck on the cheek.
“Be safe. And for the love of god, whatever you do, please do not give him a key to the apartment. I don’t care how great he is,” I call out to her as she walks toward her bedroom. I look down at my phone, triple-checking that I still have her location .
She throws her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. That won’t happen until at least date four. I’ve learned my lesson.”
Amelia gives me no time to lecture her on the dangers of sharing a living space with men she hardly knows before she closes herself in her bedroom, blasting music loud enough that I’m almost positive our neighbors will start pounding on the wall within minutes.
After locking myself into my bedroom, taking a bubble bath until the water grows cold, and changing into my cute pink and white polka-dotted pajama set, I throw myself down on the bed and rub my palms against my eyes, the room still gently rocking as if I’m on a boat in the middle of choppy seas.
I shouldn’t let working with Parker get under my skin so much. I’m a grown woman. I can separate work and my personal life…right?