Two Steps Back

Abby

Everything is a disaster. I glumly pace the garden with my arms crossed over my chest. My hair, which is still wet from my bath, is occasionally swept by the early morning breeze.

Less than an hour ago, I woke up in a dark room with my stomach churning and a splitting headache. I dashed to the bathroom to throw up and wash my face only to find that I was still wearing the coral gown I wore last night – well, sort of. It was still hanging around my waist though the bodice had come undone. As I put it back on in front of the mirror, my memories returned and I gripped the sink, gasping as I realized what I had done.

I slept with Grant.

I had sex with my boss.

The stickiness on my thighs and the sight of him still sleeping soundly on the bed I just got out of confirmed it.

Cursing silently, I ran back to my room to take a long shower. That helped relieve my headache and the sticky feeling. My thoughts remained muddled, though, and so here I am, hoping some fresh air and early sunlight will clear my mind.

All right. So I know what happened. The question is… how did it happen? How could I have allowed it to happen?

Fine. It’s because I drank too much last night. But I wouldn’t have done so if Grant hadn’t left me to be with another woman.

But he asked you if it was all right with you, didn’t he? And you said yes.

That’s because I didn’t want to sound selfish and needy. After that kiss, I was confused, especially when Grant acted like it was nothing. When he invited me to the party and told me to get all dolled up, I decided to take it as an opportunity to find out whether he was really interested in me. That’s why I took all the extra effort to look beautiful and why I managed to act confident. If I had asked Grant to stay with me, all that act would have been a waste.

Indeed, I wanted to find out how he felt, not tell him how to feel. And I did. At first, I thought he was interested in me. But I was wrong.

But he slept with you.

Because I asked him to. I don’t really remember what I said but I’m pretty sure I made the first move, the thought of which is enough to make me blush.

“Shit.”

“Let me guess,” a voice interrupts my thoughts. “You slept with Mr. Herbert.”

I turn my head, recognizing the guard. What did Grant say his name was again? Roger? I’ve been seeing him around but I haven’t really had the chance to talk to him again, not since that day I arrived.

“You should have kept that gate closed,” I tell him.

“He was that bad, huh?”

“No. It’s not that. He was…” I stop, letting my hands fall to my lap as Roger chuckles.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “I don’t really want to know the details.” He touches his dimpled chin. “I must say, though, you’re the first woman I’ve ever seen who looks miserable after sleeping with Grant.”

I sigh. “That’s because I shouldn’t have slept with him.”

“Why not?”

I slump on the bench, my hands rolling to my sides as I throw my head back and stare at the branches of the tree above me.

“Because I was drunk.”

“Not enough,” Roger says. “If you were that drunk, you wouldn’t have been able to sleep with him.”

Roger has a point.

“Because Grant doesn’t like me.”

Roger chuckles. “Believe me, Grant would never sleep with a woman he doesn’t like.”

I look at Roger with creased eyebrows. “You seem to know Grant well, don’t you?”

“Well, I’ve known him since he was in his youth,” he admits.

Really? Then he must have a good idea how Grant thinks and feels.

Wait. So, Grant likes me?

It doesn’t matter. I still shouldn’t have slept with him.

“He’s my boss.”

“Ah, that he is.”

“I’m not supposed to sleep with my boss.”

“Why not?” Roger sits on the other side of the bench.

I straighten up. “Well, because he’s my boss.”

“So? Bosses are men, too… and, more often than not, lonely men.”

“Fine.” I slap my hands on my lap. “Let’s just say I shouldn’t have slept with a man I barely knew. Or let’s say I shouldn’t have slept with a man. End of story.”

“You don’t like sleeping with men?” Roger gives me a weird look.

“Not that I swing the other way,” I clarify. “All I’m saying is that men are troublesome. I don’t need them in my life.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” I nod, sitting back.

“Fine. Let’s go with that. It’s done, though, so what are you going to do about it?”

I shrug. “Any suggestions?”

Roger shakes his head. “Don’t ask me. I’ve never slept with a man.”

I chuckle then sit up, stretching my arms upward. “Well, I guess there’s only one thing I can do.”

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving.”

There’s a suggestion – I could resign and go back to working for Mr. Landers. But, no. That seems too drastic. Besides, I kind of like my new job.

“I’m not leaving,” I tell Roger as I stand up, stretching my arms to the sides. “I guess I’ll just have to talk to Grant, tell him I’m sorry for how I behaved last night, and that it’s all a big mistake that won’t happen again. And that we should keep things professional between us from now on. Strictly business, you know. No more of the personal stuff.”

Right. That’s all I have to do and that’s exactly what I plan on doing as soon as Grant wakes up. It’s a simple solution to a simple problem, so simple I feel like a fool for not knowing it right away and for worrying about it too much.

I clasp my hands in front of me and take a deep breath, suddenly feeling much better.

I’m sure Grant will understand.

* * *

“I don’t understand,” Grant says as he sits on the edge of his bed, his blue robe wrapped around him and his damp towel resting on his shoulders. “You were the one who wanted me to—”

“I know,” I cut him off, not wanting to relive the embarrassing details of last night. “That’s why I’m apologizing.”

“So, you’re sorry you asked me to fuck you?”

“I know I behaved terribly, and I’m not making any excuses,” I tell him, looking at my hands. “I just hope you’ll forgive me and forget about everything.”

Grant stands up and comes closer, his hand stretching out toward my cheek. I step back, moving out of his reach.

“And I would like it very much if we kept things strictly professional from now on,” I tell him, squaring my shoulders. “The way it should have always been, the way it was with Mr. Landers.”

“Well, I’m not Mr. Landers, am I?” he snaps, his eyes narrowing.

Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, especially after the way he acted around Mr. Landers last night.

“I think it’s for the best,” I add quickly.

He frowns. “So, now that you’ve had me, you no longer want me?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Tell me, Abby,” Grant cuts me off as he grasps my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Do you really no longer want me?”

I pause, the intensity of his gaze and the proximity of his body to mine robbing me of breath. It’s almost as if the lust in those blue eyes is spilling out, washing over me while his fingertips, his slightest touch, sends waves of heat throughout my body, which remembers his all too easily, my palms, breasts, and sex tingling.

Shit.

My body still wants him, now more than ever. I still want him.

But I’m not going to give in to my desire any longer. I am all too aware of how desire can turn into need like it did last night, and I’m not going to let that happen again.

“Yes,” I lie, grabbing his hand and pushing it away. “I no longer want you.”

For a moment, Grant just stands there as if he hasn’t heard me. Then he walks to the window, laughing.

He’s laughing? Has he lost his mind?

“I’m sorry,” I say. “But I don’t see what’s funny.”

“Me,” he answers, clasping his hands behind him as he looks out the window. “Who would have thought that a man like me who’s tossed women aside all his life would ever know what it feels like to be the on the other side of the spectrum?”

The words make my gut coil with guilt. How can he find this funny?

“It’s karma, I guess,” he adds. “Serves me right.”

“So, you’re not mad?” I ask hopefully, eyebrows raised and head slightly crooked to one side.

Grant turns to me with a grin. “Why would I be mad?”

* * *

“He is mad,” I tell Marjorie as I sit on a stool in the kitchen, resting my cheek against the cool marble counter. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone on that business trip without telling me.”

Indeed, I woke up to find that Grant had left the mansion. It was only when I got a message on my phone hours later that I learned he had gone on a “sudden and urgent business trip.”

It’s not unusual, I know. Even Mr. Landers went on a lot of unplanned business trips, and he didn’t always bring me. He always told me beforehand, though, either personally or over the phone. In fact, I almost always arranged those business trips for him.

Well, I’m not Mr. Landers, am I? Grant’s words come back to haunt me.

Right. I should stop comparing them. Grant has his own way of dealing with things. Still, I can’t help but feel that Grant left me behind on purpose.

“Maybe he wanted to take care of it himself,” Marjorie says, her back turned to me as she works the knife and chopping board on another counter.

“I’m a personal assistant,” I remind her. “I’m supposed to assist. It’s the most important part of my job.”

“Aren’t you busy enough?”

“No.” I lift my head, putting one arm up on the counter and leaning on it.

Actually, lately, all I’ve been doing is managing emails, making phone calls, and filing documents. It’s less than what I used to do for Mr. Landers.

I frown. Again, with the comparison. Will I ever be able to stop?

“Well, maybe it’s too sudden,” Marjorie suggests.

“All the more reason for him to have asked for my help,” I say. “And if you’re saying he had to hop on a plane at once, then he should have brought me with him so I could have made arrangements along the way. Or he could have called me after he got on a plane. I could have still made arrangements over the phone.”

Marjorie stops chopping. “So, he left you out completely, huh?”

“Completely,” I agree, sighing. “He didn’t even tell me where he was going or how long he’s going to be there.”

“And you didn’t ask?”

I put my other arm up on the table, my face resting on both my palms. “Like I said, he’s mad at me.”

Marjorie wipes her hands on her apron as she turns to me. “If you ask me, it sounds like he’s more hurt than mad.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Hurt?”

“You practically crushed him, didn’t you?” she reminds me. “I mean, you told him you didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. Not just that. You told him to forget you ever slept with him. It’s like breaking up with someone and telling that person you don’t want anything to do with him.”

I look at the counter, frowning. I did not think of that. Come to think of it, he did seem a little hurt yesterday when I talked to him.

“But he’s not my boyfriend, so it’s not a break-up,” I reason defensively.

“Forget the labels. It’s the feelings that are important.” Marjorie sits on the stool across me. “You had something good going on. You were both attracted to each other. And you just nipped that in the bud and burned what was left.”

“Wow.” I look at her in disbelief. “I was that big of a bitch, huh?”

And here I thought I did what was best.

“Trust me. He’s hurting.” Marjorie places her hands on the counter. “And when people are hurt, they want to be alone. I know I did. When I found out Jack didn’t want to marry me, that he no longer wanted me just because I was pregnant – and with his child no less – I ran away. I felt like the whole world was against me, you know, like no one would understand.”

I nod. “I think my mother did the same thing.”

“She was a single mom, too?”

“Not for long. But yeah, she started out the same way. I never knew my father.”

Marjorie sighs. “Some men just don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

“Believe me. I know.”

“But you know what?” She reaches for my hand. “The fact that Grant is hurting means he cares about you, maybe more than you know.”

It does?

“And you know what else?” Marjorie points a finger at me as she gets off the stool. “The fact that you feel guilty means you care about him, too, probably just as much. Heck, you might even be in love with him.”

In love?

No way. Well, I wouldn’t know because I’ve never been in love, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what I feel right now. Yes, I slept with Grant, but so have other women. Plus, I don’t do relationships. I can’t be in love.

As for the guilt, fine, I admit it. I feel guilty just as much as I feel annoyed at being left behind. In fact, I stayed up last night wondering if what I did to Grant was right. I thought it was. I thought he’d be fine with it. I’m sure he’s been through a lot of one-night stands. I didn’t expect him to be mad. Or hurt.

So, what? I should apologize? But if I do, then I’ll be telling him it’s okay for us to pick up where we left off, and I’m still not sure it is.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. Grant is my boss.”

Marjorie lifts an eyebrow. “Is that really the problem? Or is there a bigger problem?”

I frown. Marjorie is a year younger than me, but sometimes, I feel like she’s decades older, wiser. Maybe it’s because she’s already a mother.

I rest my cheek on the counter again. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

“It’s not, really. Sometimes, it’s just you – you trying to make sense of things that don’t, you trying to control things you can’t, you trying to be something you’re not.”

I sigh. “You know what? Maybe you should have been a shrink or something.”

“But if I was, I wouldn’t be able to make things like this.” She puts a bowl of what looks like raspberry sorbet with chocolate shavings in front of me. “And believe me, good food is sometimes the best therapy.”

“I agree.” I pick up the spoon and taste the sorbet. “Mmm. This is heavenly.”

Marjorie smiles. “Something to forget the hell you’re going through, right?”

I take another spoonful, squeezing my shoulders at the decadent taste. “You’re an angel.”

Just then, my phone rings. Thinking it might be Grant, I quickly pick it up, only to be puzzled by the unknown number on the screen.

Who can it be?

“Hello,” I say as I press the phone to my ear. “Abigail Gomez speaking.”

“Ms. Gomez, this is Harry Jenkins, Mr. Herbert’s lawyer. We spoke just a few days ago.”

“Right.” I get off the stool. “I remember. What can I do for you, Mr. Jenkins?”

“Actually, I’ve sent you some important documents,” he says. “I’d appreciate it if you had Mr. Herbert sign them and then send them back to me right away.”

“Right away?”

“Yes. They were already supposed to be signed, but I guess he forgot. I need to them get his company listed and make sure everything is legal.”

I nod. “I understand. He’s on a business trip right now, but I’ll do my best to get a hold of him.”

“I appreciate it.”

He hangs up and I sit back on the stool, rubbing my temples.

“Something else wrong?” Marjorie asks from behind me.

“I have to talk to Grant.”

“Then do it. You talked your way into this trouble. You can talk your way out of it.”

“That’s not why I need to talk to him. I just spoke with his lawyer and he needs to sign some papers.”

“Well, there’s no reason why you can’t talk about a lot of things in one call,” Marjorie says.

I say nothing. Given the circumstances, I know I have things to say to Grant but I just don’t know what or how. I’m not even sure if he will listen.

He’ll want to know about those papers, though.

I start typing a message on my phone, deleting the first few letters several times before finally composing a few sentences.

I hope your trip is going well. Let me know when I can call you. I need to relay a message from Mr. Jenkins, your lawyer. He said it’s urgent. Thank you.

Afterward, I press send then put down my phone, taking a deep breath.

I don’t know where he is but I sure hope he gets my message.

And I sure hope he’s all right.