***
“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.