Chapter Nineteen
“We need to talk.”
Instantly I was angry. Just like that I was bubbling with silent rage, my teeth dripping with venom, my claws growing and curling and preparing, ready for war. It was the voice. And the person. And every single thing about him.
I slowly lifted my glare to find the Little Tucker hovering over me. I had been in the middle of a graphic and he’d interrupted just as I was trying to place the emblem in the exact spot to look life changing. But his voice had startled me enough that my hand had jerked, dragging it to the upper left corner, far away from my target. He’d ruined thirty minutes of work.
I contemplated
ignoring him as I gripped the mouse with refreshed determination. Earlier in
the week I’d sent an email to Doris from HR, explaining what had happened with
Henry and how I felt harassed by him on an almost daily basis. I hadn’t
expected an immediate return email since she was still on her cruise, but two
hours later she’d responded. By telling me that it sounded like a colossal
misunderstanding and that I should respectfully bring up the matter with him if
I ever felt uncomfortable again. She was confident we could work things out
without her. She was positive Henry would never do it again. She wanted me
to leave her the hell alone so she could get back to sun tanning on the lido
deck.
“About what?” I asked as I went back to staring at the computer screen. Graphic development was ten percent skill, twenty percent taste, thirty percent ability to keep your hand steady and three hundred percent mentally willing everything into place.
The numbers work. Don’t ask questions.
“I haven’t gotten your Black Soul updates, sweet cheeks,” he snarled. “I needed them three hours ago and they’re nowhere to be seen.”
A nervous feeling ticked inside me. I had ignored an email from Henry this morning in favor of working on Ezra’s stuff all day. I was starting to make headway with his websites so I was feeling extra inspired to do something that I could show him.
Since I’d been avoiding Ezra since Saturday, I was still fuzzy on when that would be. Sometime in the very distant, very ambiguous future, whenever I worked up the courage to see him again, he was going to be so impressed.
To be fair, he hadn’t made a huge effort to reach out to me either, so I felt vindicated. In like a really depressing way.
Victory! As I cried into my ice cream every night.
Not kidding. Just kidding.
Instead of dwelling on my ability to ruin every good thing, I’d thrown myself entirely into his project so I could impress him with my design genius. I would then proceed to ignore him from now until the end of time.
Fine, I had been the one to retreat Saturday, slinking out of Bianca without saying goodbye. And fine, I hadn’t made any effort to reach out to him or email him or text him or try to have any contact with him whatsoever since then. But it was Wednesday. Wednesday! He’d said he liked me and then let this go until Wednesday without even a work email!
Also, I hated being this girl.
I wanted the record
to show, I loathed being this undecided, fickle, crazy person terrified
female that didn’t know what she wanted or who she wanted or when she wanted
it.
But I couldn’t seem
to talk myself down from this psychotic ledge.
I couldn’t even paint my way out of these feelings. And believe me… I’d tried.
I barely spared Henry a look when I explained, “I’ve been really busy with the EFB Enterprises account. Sorry. I’ll get to the updates in a bit.”
“I need them now,” Henry gritted through clenched teeth.
The second meeting with Black Soul wasn’t until next week and all I had to do was change the color scheme they didn’t like. And no, for those interested, I hadn’t used gray and yellow.
I’d used black and white with some striking reds. It had a vintage Guns and Roses vibe to it. The suits wanted something subtler with softer colors. Basically, I should have gone with gray and yellow to begin with.
It would be a pain to go back through everything and re-shade, but I didn’t have to create anything new. I just needed a few focused hours to get it done.
Giving up on the graphic in front of me until Henry had slithered off, I pushed away from my desk and bit back a growl. “I don’t have them ready for you right now. But if they’re that important I can walk away from what I’m working on and start them.”
Henry’s expression turned sour, reminding me of a petulant child. “I had a feeling two major projects were going to be too much for you. You’re not ready for a lead role yet, baby. I told my dad that he should have let me run the EFB account. “
I resisted, barely, the urge to punch him in the throat. Was he seriously attacking my work ethic? If I had slacked on anything it was the Black Soul project and that was all his fault. And I would be more than happy to have a conversation with his dad about why I wasn’t totally enthusiastic about working with his deviant of a son.
But to Henry, I remained professional, poised, and only mildly bitchy. “They’re not too much,” I said coolly. “I’ve carved out plenty of time for each, but I was planning on starting the Black Soul touchups later in the week since my EFB account is on a tighter timeline. Why do you need them right now?”
Ignoring my question and my explanation and my entire A-plus work history, he tapped his fingers on the chest high partition and said, “I want those updates before you leave for the day. Got it?”
Clenching my teeth
together to keep from choking him saying something I would regret, I
nodded once. “Fine.”
“Good girl.” He smirked.
Expecting him to leave, I was surprised when he stayed. He stood there for another minute staring directly at my chest. He didn’t even try to hide it. I’d taken to wearing the most modest, dowdy clothing I owned to work. The chambray button-up paired with the Aztec printed maxi skirt I was wearing were hardly revealing, and yet Henry salivated all over my cubicle like he was front and center at a strip club.
“Do you mind?” I asked bluntly.
He reluctantly lifted his lascivious gaze and winked at me, then finally walked away.
That’s when I threw up all over my computer. Okay, maybe not all over my computer, but at least a little bit in my mouth. God, he was such an asshole!
A gross, disgusting, asshole.
After he disappeared, I contemplated running to HR again and demanding that they file a report for his employee record. I wasn’t imagining his gross behavior.
He was out of line.
At least, to my personal standards, he felt very, very out of line. Maybe Doris hadn’t understood before. Maybe she hadn’t realized how out of control he was. I knew she wanted to protect her own job and felt that writing up a formal complaint about the boss’s son maybe wasn’t the best way to do that. But she couldn’t ignore his behavior anymore. He was a liability. And pissing me off!
I stood up and walked over to her desk, but she still wasn’t there and writing a handwritten complaint wasn’t going to get me anywhere if she still wouldn’t be back for several days. Spinning around, I observed the whole office, trying to decide what to do. I spotted Mr. Tucker’s office and wondered about going directly to him. What would he say? What would he do? Was I prepared to accuse his son of sexual harassment directly to his face?
No, no I was not.
When I got back to my desk I opened all of my Black Soul files. But I just wasn’t mentally ready to start working on them yet. The last thing I wanted to do was give Henry what he wanted. He’d interrupted my entire day. Plus, now my planner was all out of order. He was the absolute worst!
Out of spite, I picked up my cell phone.
Henry would get the updates when I was finished with them. Which might be today. Or maybe tomorrow. Or maybe I wouldn’t do them after all and he could make the adjustments himself.
Wasn’t that a crazy thought?
Vera answered on the third ring. “What up, Molls? Are you at work?”
She was in a kitchen somewhere if the sound of clanking dishes, pots and pans was any indication. Immediately, I felt better, more relaxed. When everything felt crazy, jumbled and out of my control, she was the pillar that kept me anchored to sanity.
“Yes. Remind me why though?” I begged her, hoping to keep the real emotion out of my voice. “I vaguely remember winning the lottery. Tell me it was real.”
“First, stop buying scratch tickets. They never solve your problems. Second, you love health insurance. That’s why you’re at work.” Her voice gentled. “Have you had a bad day?”
“Super bad,” I admitted. “Unless those scratch tickets end up paying off.”
“They won’t,” she laughed. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”
I groaned. “Pretty sure my bubble was already popped.”
“Well, hey, I have news that might perk you up.”
“Give it to me,” I sighed. “Give me the will to work again.”
Vera’s laugh indicated that she was super excited to share her information with me. My curiosity was instantly piqued.
I heard a door open and close as she moved to a quieter space. Her voice dropped low and she said, “I overheard Killian on the phone with Ezra. Apparently, he wants to take you on a legit date. He wanted Killian’s advice on how not to screw this up with you.”
“Oh, no,” I whispered. “Oh, no!”
Of course Vera knew everything about Ezra and me. Because I’d told her everything. There was nothing else to do after my worst-case scenario reaction on Saturday than invite my BFF over, ply her with wine and ice cream, and confess all of the kissing, flirting, and running away like a giant chicken I did. Afterward, she’d graciously analyzed every single nuance with me until she was convinced we were going to have a double wedding—our childhood dream—and I confirmed she was insane.
She had reacted exactly like I’d expected her to—with massive congratulations and a wedding lecture like I had never heard before.
She had so many opinions on flowers and dresses and groom’s cakes. But after that, I had shared all of my fears and concerns. She had sympathized like I knew she would and together we’d decided that I should calm down and take this one day at a time.
I didn’t have to have all of the answers with Ezra right this second. I didn’t have to know how every single thing would play out or what would happen to us or if we would get past the first date. I just needed to make the best of today.
It was wise advice that I immediately took to heart.
I had been failing
miserably doing that until just now.
“Molly, you can’t hide from him forever.” Her voice dropped to a whisper indicating that her fiancé was in listening distance. “From what I heard Killian say to him, I’m not even sure Ezra realizes you’re hiding from him. I think he’s just been so focused on work that he might think this is normal. No offense! Things at Bianca are tense.”
“Son of a bitch,” I growled. It wasn’t that I wanted to make this great big I’m-avoiding-you statement. It just complicated my feelings for him. I’d wrongly assumed he was avoiding me on purpose, because of some flaw or miscommunication. But if he’d been swamped with work and I’d turned this into something that it was not, then the stupid softening of my heart and anticipatory sighing of my girly bits could be a problem.
I had already decided that we couldn’t date. I didn’t even want to date him. Okay, fine, that was a dirty, filthy lie. But I only wanted to date him in theory. I couldn’t actually date him. Not if I enjoyed an intact heart and not having to hear about a fabulous new EFB Enterprises restaurant named Molly.
Vera made an impatient sound in the back of her throat. “Are you really that worried about going on one date with the man? I mean, Molly, he’s freaking gorgeous. And he’s a really good guy. He’s dependable and loyal and secretly nice. At least get a free meal and solid make out from him. You’re too uptight these days. You need a good lay.”
“Oh, my god. Vera May Delane! Don’t be gross!”
She laughed on her end of the phone. “Come on, be honest. When’s the last time you got some good, mind-blowing action.”
Wrinkling my nose, I confessed, “Um, college? No, it was before then. Er, that guy I dated from senior chemistry? What was his name… Josh?”
“Jed?” Vera guessed too. “Jake!”
“Jake Begley. Good lord, he was hot.”
“And dumb. Remember how he thought the periodic table was an actual table. He kept looking for it in the chem lab all year.”
I snorted. “That’s not true.”
“Mmm, pretty sure it’s true.”
“Well, the dummy could kiss. That’s all I cared about.”
“Do you hear yourself? Your last good kiss was in high school, Molly! That’s like a crime against your adult self! You deserve a hot date with expensive food and good drinks and a sexy, sexy man.”
“Who’s a sexy man?” I heard Killian ask in the background.
Embarrassed that he’d heard so much of Vera’s side of the conversation, I lay my forehead on the edge of my desk and talked to my shoes. “I don’t want to lead him on.” Or me.
“He’s a big boy,” she argued. “He’ll be okay. Or not. The disappointment of not wooing the most incredible woman he’s ever met might be his undoing. But either way, you can’t blame yourself. If you’re not into him, you’re not into him and so be it. But you should at least let yourself try.”
That wasn’t it at all. I was into Ezra—too into him. So into him I knew I was headed for epic disappointment and the utter annihilation of my heart. “Vera, I’m scared.”
She was silent for a few moments, then finally she said, “Cook for him.”
“Uh, what?”
“Cook for him,” she ordered.
“Vera, I said I wanted to keep my distance, not commit accidental homicide. I’m just not ready to go on a real date.”
“So cook for him,” she repeated. “Then you won’t feel the whole date-induced pressure because you’re at some super fancy restaurant and he’ll have to face the cold, hard truth that you hate food. That might be enough of a deal breaker for him to back off all by himself.”
“Hey!” I protested.
“At the very least, it will buy you time before you have to speak to him again.”
“Okay, maybe that’s not a terrible idea.”
“It’s a genius idea!” she gloated. “You’re welcome. As payment, Killian and I will accept the reservations at whatever exclusive restaurant Ezra was planning on taking you to. I think that is only fair.”
“Oh, you don’t think he would have just made a reservation at one of his own?”
She barked out a laugh. “Because that’s romantic? No, Molly. He wasn’t going to take you to one of the restaurants he owns named after one of his ex-girlfriends. He’s not that tacky. It would have been someplace good though. For sure.”
“If he asks, and that’s a big if, I’ll see what I can do about the reservation.”
“You’re the best!”
“I know. You’re also the best.” I felt instantly lighter after talking to Vera. Lighter, but also heavier. I was no closer to having this whole Ezra thing figured out than before the phone call, but I had a friend that always had my back and was willing to listen to every single one of my freak outs. It was okay to suck at relationships as long as I was good at this one. “Thanks, Vere.”
“Let me know what happens.” She told someone she would be right there. “I gotta go.”
“Me too.”
We hung up and I kind
of tried to focus on work. It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was the hardest
thing I did all day. By five o’clock, I was exhausted from staring at shades of
gray and trying to figure out which one would appeal to the widest audience.
Ugh.
“You leaving?” I asked Emily as she gathered her things.
She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, yes. Want to walk out with me?”
“Yes, please!” I quickly clicked the right buttons, sending Henry the updated, but not final, versions of the graphics and shut down my desk. Emily waited for me to put my computer in my bag and sling it over my shoulder before she started walking toward the elevator bank.
“How’s the Black Soul project?” she asked when we were in an elevator heading down to the parking garage.
“Terrible,” I groaned. “It’s not at all what I thought it was going to be.”
“That sucks,” she sympathized. Her expression shifted and she waggled her eyebrows at me. “But at least you’re getting some action, right? Henry’s such a gentle lover.”
My entire body shuddered at her joke. “Oh my god, that’s so gross. That man is a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
She turned serious again. “Wait, he hasn’t tried to—”
I quickly shook my head. I didn’t know why I was so worried about her thinking the wrong thing. If he’d tried anything again with me, it would be his fault not mine. So why was I so worried about people thinking the wrong thing? I was the innocent person in this whole debacle. He was the assailant. I shouldn’t even want to stick up for him. Still, I said, “No, he hasn’t tried to touch me again, since I emailed Doris. But he’s always undressing me with his eyes and staring at my chest. He might not be touching me, but whatever he is doing is just as bad.”
“I can’t believe this hasn’t gotten back to his dad. Mr. Tucker would shut that shit down so fast.”
“You think?” For some reason, I wasn’t so sure.
“For the sake of his business,” Emily nodded as she went on. “He doesn’t want a lawsuit or a bad reputation just because his son is a pervert.”
That was true. Even if Mr. Tucker didn’t believe everything I had to say, surely he would step in just to avoid legal action. Sexual harassment wasn’t a small thing and Henry was set up to take over the entire company in a few years. Maybe I should revisit going over HR’s head.
My phone dinged when we got off the elevator, so I pulled it out of my purse on my way to my car. “See you tomorrow, Em.”
“Later, babe,” she called back.
I threw my laptop in the back and settled into the driver’s seat with my phone in hand. An email had popped up and I almost didn’t check it because I was sure that it was Henry giving me shit for the work I’d just uploaded.
It wasn’t Henry though. It was Ezra. And the subject read: Hey.
Not able to contain my curiosity, I opened the email against my better judgment.
Call me when you get a minute.
~Ezra
I drove home first, not wanting to seem super available. Plus, the parking garage got terrible reception. Plus, plus, I had to talk myself into it and work myself up and find some courage in my terrified little soul to push the buttons.
When I got home, I changed into leggings and settled on my couch with a salad I picked up on the way home. Then I called Ezra.
For a second I didn’t think he was going to answer. The phone rang just long enough that I prepared myself to hang up before it asked for a message.
But then he answered, his voice clear, deep and tender. “Molly.”
God, why couldn’t he just say hello like a normal person? It would be so much easier on my flailing heart. “Hi, Ezra.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt you at work.”
“I just got home.”
“Are you coming in to paint tonight?” There was something in his voice that sounded like hope and it did damaging things to my resolve to keep my distance.
“I am not,” I told him trying not to sound disappointed. “I didn’t want to interrupt your dinner service.”
“Oh, well, when do you think you’ll be in again?”
Was this all he wanted to talk about? When I would be back to paint his mural? I was less nervous now. “Saturday morning, I think.”
“Well, damn. I have a thing Saturday so I won’t be there.”
I hadn’t realized he needed to be there. “Is it okay that I still come in if you’re not there?”
“It’s fine,” he assured me, that smooth, rich voice of his chasing me through the phone. “Bianca is yours for as long as you need her. Come in whenever you’d like. I just haven’t seen you all week.”
His disappointment came out of nowhere, kicking me right in the butterflies. “Oh.”
“So I think we should fix that,” he continued. “Are you free Sunday night?”
“Um, to paint?” I slammed my eyes shut at my effort to play cool. What was wrong with me?
His chuckle was genuine and rumbly, and God, why did I want to avoid this man again? “No, not to paint. To go on a date. With me.”
I couldn’t think of the right thing to say so I sat there silent for way too long. Clearing my throat I went for totally smooth. “Uh, s-sure. That sounds great.” I stared at my freezer. Forget the salad. I needed to go straight to the ice cream tonight.
He was unruffled by my inability to be as cool as him. “Can I pick you up?”
Vera’s plan blared through my head and I sat up with more confidence. “How about I cook for you and we stay in?”
I expected him to argue with me, sure that he’d heard the rumors of my tragic cooking and would do whatever it took to escape a meal that could end in death—or possibly serious food poisoning.
Instead, he let out a sigh of relief and said, “Actually, that sounds amazing. I’d love that.”
Softening, I smiled and opened up all at once, I relaxed into a feeling that this was right, that this would be good. Something like anticipation and hope and feelings of rightness. “How about six?”
“Do you need me to bring anything?”
“Wine,” I told him. “Bring lots of wine.” Because when we couldn’t eat anything, we would at least be able to drink.
“See you Sunday, Molly.”
“Okay, Ezra.”
I painted that night. Cloudy skies with sun crowned horizons. Eyes that were deep and mysterious and soft. A delicate hand cradled in a strong, masculine one. All things that would have previously made me roll my eyes and embitter my cold, cruel, cynical heart.
Now I was halfway to infatuated and my painting was evidence that I’d lost my mind completely.
And maybe, possibly… my heart.