Chapter Sixteen
Shelby
"Shelby Aster?"
I looked up from my computer hearing my name. A man in a uniform I didn't recognize was looking at me quizzically.
"I'm Shelby," I said.
"Then these are for you," he said, handing me what he had been holding. A bouquet of red roses. I could feel a few people’s eyes on me as I received them.
"Who are they from?" I asked.
"There's a note," he said shortly. I thanked him and let him go. He was just the messenger; he wouldn't even have the answers that I wanted. I sat down, admiring the stems. They were nice. I found the note hidden inside, even though I didn't have to read it to know who the flowers had come from.
For you, the note said. From Jason.
The ones that I had gotten over the weekend were still in a vase on my dining table; where am I going to put these, I wondered idly. They were pretty. I appreciated the gesture. I didn't know anybody who disliked receiving flowers. We hadn't talked since Sunday when he had shown up at the park, but this was the second bouquet that I had received.
He was... I didn't know what he was doing. Trying. He was trying. At last, he was reaching out in a way that was subtle and surprise, surprise, actually being a bit of a gentleman. I should thank him for them, I thought. That was the least I could do, wasn't it? I still wasn't clear on what he wanted: to apologize, or to do something else. Something else like maybe come onto me. Whatever; both were working if that had been his angle.
There was something there. I was attracted to him, but his enormous ego and narcissism were big enough turn-offs to keep me away. I couldn't get used to receiving things from him. This thing wasn't permanent; it couldn't be. He had to go back to New York, and I wasn't leaving with him. So what then? What was the point of all of this?
Maybe he would want to meet up, I thought. Maybe, even though he was going back, there was a way I'd be able to tell him that Damien was his son. He still didn't know, and it had been weighing on me since he had cornered us at the park on Sunday. Was what I felt really more important than Damien knowing who his father was? As much as I wanted to protect him from the toxic person I knew Jason could be, was I making a mistake? If Damien grew up and found out that I had willfully kept him from his dad, would he be upset with me?
I had more questions than I had answers and more fears than I had either of those combined. I got up and went to the break room for a quick coffee before the pre-broadcast meeting. I sipped it gratefully at my desk, getting back to work. The days right before a break always seemed to drag by the slowest for some cruel reason. It was Christmas Eve. I was getting a week off until the New Year, thank God. It couldn't start soon enough. I loved my job, but I loved vacations too.
I didn't even have any fancy plans to fly out anywhere or anything like that. I was staying at home with my baby, celebrating his first Christmas. I had already apologized to my parents for not being able to make it, but they had had Damien and me for Thanksgiving already. It was the combination of me not really wanting to make the road trip again so soon and just wanting to stay home. We could talk on Skype.
Frank, my stepdad, would understand, and he'd convince Mom. He was very much like my father had been: laid back and understanding; I guess that was my mom's type. When my dad had died, I had been graduating from college. I had wanted to move back to North Carolina to be with my mom, but she had basically chased me back to New York after the funeral, saying she'd be fine. A few years later, she had met Frank. He had entered my life when I was already an adult, so he had never really raised me. We were more like friends, I guess. He had been there when Damien had been born, and I guessed if I ever got married, he'd be the one who would walk me down the aisle. He and my mother finding each other in their fifties gave me hope, in a way. I wasn't looking for anything at the moment, but it was nice to know that it was always out there, that never giving up could pay off.
I was exhausted by the time work was up, but happy. I was always happy to see my little man after work. I rode the elevator down and walked out, starting for the daycare. The sight of Jason and Davis stopped me in my tracks. Really, Jason? I was just starting to get sweet on you again. You had to go ruin it like this?
I slowed down, walking towards them. He was impossible, and he drove me crazy, but damn if he didn't look even better in real life than he did on TV. He was in a t-shirt and jeans, which nobody had any right to look as sexy as he did in them. His arms were crossed, and his muscular biceps strained against the fabric of his shirt. He was kind of showing up Davis a little, who was in a slate gray full suit.
God, the other day in his hotel room. I had not forgotten that. It was more than a little aggravating, the way he made me feel. I wanted him to leave me alone so I could get my life back, but then I also wanted him to lay me down and pound me again. I couldn't have him do those two things at the same time, unfortunately. He looked over and noticed me first, saying something to Davis who looked over his shoulder and noticed me too.
"Merry Christmas if I don't see you again, all right?" I heard Davis say to him.
"You too," Jason said, grinning at him. Davis addressed me politely before walking back towards the elevators, the way I had come. Coward, I thought. For the guy who seemed to be having no problem relating to me in the office now that our thing was over, he couldn't face Jason when I was around?
"You're back," I said, looking at Jason.
"It's good to see you too," he said wryly.
"I didn't realize you and Davis were so close."
"We aren't. Colleagues at best."
"Then why are you here?" I asked.
"I wanted to catch you before you left."
"Well, congratulations. You did it."
"I need to talk to you."
"I have to pick my baby up and go home. You're out of luck today."
"I see you got the flowers," he said, looking at the bouquet in my hand.
"I did. Thanks, by the way," I said, sighing. We were awkward when we weren't fighting. I didn't really know why he wasn't already yelling or why I wasn't already irritated with him.
"I sent them because I want to start over. I know I messed up. The truth is, I want another chance... with you."
"If this has anything to do with work—”
"It doesn't. I know your place is here now and you're happy. I meant me. I want another chance." I swallowed. The thing with Jason had always just been a thing. We had never named it, and it had been so sporadic that I wanted to say it hardly counted. I could have said that if I was going to ignore the enormous attraction I felt towards him. I wasn't a child; I knew that the red roses were more than just a peace offering.
"Don't you think it's too late?"
"If it was, you wouldn't be talking to me right now," he said. He was right.
"Why would this time even be different?" I asked.
"Because I know I was wrong. This time, I don't want to take my chances. Tell me what I need to do." My eyes widened.
"What?"
"How can I prove to you that I'm serious? I know you have no reason to trust me. I want to give you one." I looked at Jason, half expecting his face to melt off, revealing an android face underneath. The last time he had looked or sounded like this had been... had been the night that Damien had been conceived. I didn't know this Jason, the one who was earnest and wanted to listen to me instead of yell. I searched his face, looking for a sign that I shouldn't trust what he was telling me.
"There is nothing you can do."
"There has to be something, Shel. I'll do anything."
"Then quit your job," I said, only realizing what I had told him when it was already out. He blanched.
"What?"
"You heard me," I said, straightening up. "Your job gives you a power trip. It feeds your ego; it's part of the reason you're like this."
"Shelby, I can't just quit." I shrugged.
"Okay. Then don't. You asked me what it would take, and that's it. Find something that doesn't play into your narcissism and maybe I'll believe that you're serious." I walked away having said my piece. I went to the daycare and got Damien, looking forward to the week off I'd get to spend with him. During that time, Jason would fly his ass back to New York, and I'd see him back on TV in no time, doing the only thing he knew how to do. He wasn't serious. His track record had given me no reason to believe him. I'd trust him when he gave me a reason to.