CHAPTER 29
GRAHAM
“REBECCA!”
Was it so hard to find competent people these days? I smacked the intercom button down again, yelling louder. “Rebecca!” There was no way she couldn’t hear me the last ten minutes. The entire damn office had to have heard me, even though my office door was shut. With no response, I went in search of my secretary. Her desk was empty, and it looked like she wasn’t in today, even though she was sitting there when I walked in only three hours ago. Grumbling to myself with a stack of papers, I headed to reception.
“Where is Rebecca?”
“Who?”
“My secretary. She’s not at her desk again.”
“Oh. You mean Eliza.”
“Whatever. Where is she?”
“She quit this morning, Mr. Morgan.”
“She what?”
“She quit.”
“Jesus Christ. It’s impossible to find dependable staff anymore.” I tossed the stack of papers I was holding onto the reception desk. “I need five sets of these.”
A little while later, there was a knock at my door. “What?”
The receptionist held the photocopies I’d asked for, along with a stack of newspapers. “Where would you like the copies?”
I pointed with my finger, without looking up from my work. “On the credenza.”
“You haven’t been taking your newspapers out of your mail slot this week, so I brought them to you.”
“I don’t want them.”
A few minutes later, I still hadn’t looked up, and I realized that the receptionist was still in my office. Sighing, I acknowledged her, not that I wanted to. But seeing as she was standing on the other side of my desk staring at me, she left me little choice. “What?”
“Ava. My name is Ava.”
“I know that.”
“May I say something, Mr. Morgan?”
I tossed my pen on my desk. “You’ve already interrupted me, so spit out whatever it is you’d like to say, and get it over with.”
She nodded. “I’ve worked here for two years now.”
Really? “And…”
“Do you know how many secretaries you’ve had in that time?”
“I have no idea. But since you’re wasting my time, I’m going to assume you’re about to enlighten me.”
“Forty-two.”
“In a city this size, it’s pretty damn amazing how difficult it is to find good help.”
“Do you know why they leave?”
“I’m not sure I care.”
“They leave because you’re normally a tyrant to work for.”
My eyebrows jumped. “Is that so, Ava?”
“It is, Mr. Morgan.”
“So why are you still here? You just said yourself that you’ve been here for two years.”
She shrugged. “My dad used to be like you. Plus, we don’t have that much interaction since I’m up at reception all day. Most days you whiz by me and don’t even acknowledge my existence. Which is fine with me.”
“And your point to all this is? Are you trying to end your two-year streak of putting up with me? Because in about ten seconds, I think you will have succeeded.”
“No, sir. The point I wanted to make is that…well…a few months ago you started to change. Eliza, your secretary, was here for almost six weeks, and she actually seemed to like her job.”
I stared at her, but said nothing, forcing her to continue.
“Until a few days ago. When Angry Mr. Morgan walked back in. I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is, I’m sorry. And I hope we get Nice Mr. Morgan back again real soon.”
Nice Mr. Morgan? He was the asshole who got stepped on. “Are you done yet, Ava?”
“I am. I’m sorry if I upset you. I just wanted to say you seemed happy. And now you’re not.”
I picked up my pen and proceeded to bury myself back in my work. Ava took the hint this time. Just as she was about to walk out, I asked, “What happened to your dad?”
“Pardon?”
“You said your dad used to be like me.”
“Oh. He met my stepmother. Now he’s different.”
“Leave the newspapers on the credenza and don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”
***
I POURED MYSELF A DRINK and stared out my office window. It was dark already. For the last three days, I left the house before the sun rose and returned in the middle of the night. I was exhausted, and it had nothing to do with lack of sleep. The anger that I’d been carrying around was physically draining. Blood boiled in my veins. I was distraught, rejected, betrayed, filled with fury. Hurt squeezed the cold muscle that had replaced the warm heart inside my chest—a heart that had only just begun to thaw after meeting Soraya.
I’d been betrayed before. Fuck, Genevieve and Liam were my best friend and fiancé. When shit went down with them, I’d lost two people who had been the biggest part of my life for years. Yet that loss felt nothing like this. No, there was no comparison. This was utter devastation—the type of loss you feel when you lose someone to death. I still couldn’t get over what Soraya had done to me…what she’d done to us. Never would I have thought she was capable of being unfaithful. The woman I fell in love with was open and honest. It made me question if I had ever really known her at all.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and just as I did for the last three days, my hopes rose longing to see Soraya’s name flash on the screen. But, of course, it wasn’t; she was gone. I gulped back the contents of my glass and answered.
“Genevieve.”
“Graham. What’s going on? Where have you been?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Chloe is starting to ask questions. You’ve canceled on seeing her two nights in a row. She’s very vulnerable right now after losing Liam and needs consistency. She needs you, Graham. Somehow, she’s already grown attached.”
I closed my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was let Chloe down. I’d canceled because I didn’t want her to see me this way—unhappy and angry. But I was a parent now. I needed to get my head out of my ass for the sake of my daughter. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“Is something going on with that girlfriend of yours?”
I ignored her question. “How about if I come for breakfast in the morning and then take Chloe to school?”
“That would be good.” The phone went quiet for a minute. “Chloe isn’t the only one who misses you, Graham. I like having you around.”
“I’ll see you at seven tomorrow, Genevieve.”
After I hung up, I set my empty glass on the credenza. The pile of newspapers that Ava had left were still there. The City Post, the paper that Ask Ida was printed in each day. I picked the top one up and stared at it. I’d intentionally avoided going anywhere near the paper, unable to trust myself not to scour the Ask Ida column for traces of Soraya’s words. The last thing I needed was to read her giving advice to some poor schlep on the topic of love or cheating. No fucking way. I threw the paper back on the pile and decided to call it a day.
***
“MOMMY SAID YOU LIKED BANANAS in your pancakes.” Chloe and I were sitting at the dining room table finishing our breakfast and strawberry milk. Genevieve had gone upstairs to get dressed for work.
“I do. And chocolate chips, too. My grandmother used to make banana chocolate chip pancakes for me all the time when I was your age.” I leaned to my daughter and whispered, “You want to know a secret?”
She nodded her head fast.
“Sometimes she still makes them for me. And they’re even better than your mom’s.”
Chloe belly laughed. The sound was the best medicine in the world for me; nothing could stop my face from smiling when I heard that. I’d kept away from my daughter to protect her from what I was feeling, worried my sour mood was contagious. Yet the reality was, it was the other way around—it was Chloe’s naturally happy-go-lucky disposition that was contagious. This little precious girl had lost a man she loved as her father only months ago, and yet here she was smiling. If she could do it, I could, too. My daughter was inspiring.
I reached over and cupped her cheeks. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”
“You didn’t come see me for a few days.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was caught up in something. But that won’t happen again.”
“Can we go see your grandmother one day for breakfast?”
Not only was she inspiring, but she was also full of good ideas. “She’d love that. I’ve told her all about you, and she can’t wait to meet you.”
“Can Soraya come, too?”
My chest tightened at even the mention of her name. I could still actually visualize the four of us together. Myself and the three most important women in my life. My daughter, Meme, and the woman I loved. It was raw to speak of, but I wouldn’t lie to my daughter. “I’m sorry, Chloe. She won’t be able to come with us. But maybe you and I could go together this weekend?”
Genevieve picked that moment to walk back into the dining room.
“Are you mad at Soraya?” My eyes caught briefly with Genevieve before I answered my daughter.
“Sometimes things don’t work out between adults and they stop seeing each other.”
“Why didn’t things work out with you and Soraya? I liked her.”
I took a deep breath. “I liked her, too.” Glancing at my watch, I changed the subject. “You’re going to be late if we don’t get you going. I thought I would drop you at school today, if that’s alright with you?”
Chloe ran to get her things while Genevieve and I cleared the last of the dishes from the dining room table. “Will you join us for dinner, tonight? I’m making another one of your favorites, chicken parmigiana.”
I had assumed Genevieve was going to attempt to discuss what she’d just overheard about me and Soraya. I was relieved when she seemed to move on. Maybe Genevieve and I could do this co-parenting thing better than I anticipated. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
***
GENEVIEVE WAS ALL DRESSED UP when I arrived, wearing a very form fitting blue dress that showed off her figure. She was always a beautiful woman, but motherhood seemed to have added a little to her curves making her more voluptuous. I handed her a bottle of her favorite merlot I’d picked up on my way over. She’d been feeding me meals for the last few weeks; it was the least I could do not to show up empty-handed. “Are you going out tonight?”
“No. I wasn’t planning on it. Why do you ask?”
“You look…nice.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I need to stir the pasta. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and open the wine for us?”
Genevieve pulled two crystal glasses from the cabinet, and I uncorked the bottle as she went to work at the stove.
“Is Chloe upstairs?”
“She’s actually not home yet. Her best friend, Emily, invited her over for a play date. Emily’s mom called a little while ago to ask if she could stay for dinner. I hope you don’t mind. Lately, I’ve just had a difficult time saying no to anything she asks. After Liam moved out last year, she was really stuck to my side. Then, after he passed, she didn’t want to play with any of her friends. I found it encouraging that she wanted to have dinner with Emily, so I told her she could stay. I’m sure she’ll be back by the time we’re done.”
I hated the thought of Chloe not wanting to play with her friends. When my own mother was sick, I had gone through a similar withdrawal. Looking back, I realized I was afraid to leave her. If I went somewhere, something might change or happen. Genevieve made sound choices for Chloe. “You’re good at being a mother.”
She was surprised at my compliment. “Thank you, Graham. That means a lot to me coming from you.”
Over dinner, we talked mostly about work. I’d forgotten how easy it was to speak to her. It had been years since we had any real conversation. After we finished our meal, I poured us both a second glass of wine.
“This is nice,” Genevieve said.
I nodded.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“Will it stop you if I say no?”
She smiled. “Probably not.”
“What happened between you and Soraya?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I understand.”
There were so many unanswered questions in my head. Maybe it was finally time to get some answers. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
Her eyebrows jumped. “Anything.”
“You sure about that?”
“Let me get us something stronger than wine first.” I finished my second glass of wine while Genevieve disappeared to the kitchen. She came back with two glasses of cognac. “Why don’t we go sit in the living room?”
Genevieve slipped off her high heels, then joined me on the couch. We were both quiet, sipping our drinks for a while. I stared at the floor when I finally spoke, “What made you turn to Liam?” It was a question I’d spent the better part of a year wondering about. The recent occurrences had obviously brought it to the forefront of my thoughts once again.
She blew out an audible breath. “I asked myself that same question a million times. The answer isn’t so simple. I was selfish. I liked the attention that Liam gave me. You were so busy and wrapped up in growing your business that I think I felt a little neglected. That’s not to say it’s your fault. Because it’s not. I just wanted to be the center of your world—the reason that you liked getting out of bed each morning. Don’t get me wrong, we were compatible on so many levels. We had our work, and the sex was nothing short of spectacular ever. But I just never felt like I was the love of your life. Liam made me feel that way. The problem was, after we broke up and I was with Liam, I realized he wasn’t the reason I got out of bed each morning. You were.”
I glanced up at Genevieve for the first time. Four years ago I could never have understood what she was talking about. I had thought she was the love of my life. Until I met Soraya. I had to force myself to get out of bed these last few days since she wasn’t in my life anymore.
I nodded. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
I gulped back the remnants of my glass and stood. “I think I need another one. Would you like a refill?”
“No, thank you.”
The next tall glass of alcohol left me feeling even more relaxed. Genevieve and I moved our conversation to lighter topics, and I settled into the couch comfortably waiting for my daughter.
“Graham?” Her tone had changed, and she hesitated until I was looking her in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it before, but I want you to know that I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I hate that I hurt you, and I wish I could do it all over again and take back all of my selfish decisions.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ve matured since then. Having a child taught me a lot about myself. I don’t need to be the center of anyone’s universe anymore, because she’s mine.”
“I can see that.”
It wasn’t until I stood to go to the bathroom an hour later that all of the alcohol really hit me. I’d had a drink in my office before I left, two glasses of wine over dinner, and it had to be four cognacs. Drunk was never a sensation I enjoyed. The feeling of not being in a clear state of mind was normally something that I despised. But tonight, it felt good. My shoulders were relaxed, and the anger that I’d been carrying around seemed to have lightened a bit as well.
After I relieved myself, I went in search of another refill for my perpetually empty glass and then stumbled my way back to the living room. Genevieve wasn’t there, and it was quiet. I sucked down half my glass and shut my eyes, leaning my head back against the couch. I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes before Genevieve’s voice woke me up.
“Chloe just called while I was upstairs getting changed and asked if she could sleep at Emily’s. She was so excited. I just couldn’t say no. I’m sorry. I hope you’re not upset with me for not asking you first.”
“As long as she’s happy, I’m happy. It’s late. I should get going anyway.” I stood from the couch and wobbled a bit.
“Why don’t I make you some coffee first. Then you can call your driver or a cab, rather than take the train.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” The couch was so comfy, I plopped myself right back down on it and closed my eyes. That was the last thing I remembered doing until Genevieve’s voice woke me hours later in the middle of the night.
“Graham?”
“Hmm…”
“You fell asleep.”
“Shit.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Sorry. I’ll get going.”
I was covered with a blanket, and the room was dark, but the hall light illuminated the room enough to see Genevieve in front of me. She was wearing a long silk robe that was tied at the waist.
“I’d much rather you stay. But…” She untied her robe and let it fall open. Hesitantly, her hands reached up, and she slipped the silky material from her shoulders. The robe puddled at her feet as she stood before me, fully naked. “I woke you hoping you’d come upstairs to bed instead of staying on the couch.”