Joshua

I spent the morning trying to get caught up.

From eight until ten o'clock, I was in a meeting with my assistant manager, trying to get everything in place for my first real meeting with the paper's lead editors to discuss the paper's future. It was exciting, even if it was too much admin for my tastes. I wanted to focus on vision and new hires to get fresh blood and ideas on the paper's pages. I also wanted to improve the web presence of the paper and bring it fully into the Twenty-First Century. The previous owner had been a total luddite and had resisted going digital, but you couldn't fight progress. It meant a different business model than print alone, but it was doable.

I'd spend the rest of the day trying to catch up with the remainder of my family's business – and now my business. The business of broadcasting and publishing.

I met with the manager of the new web-based broadcaster, which represented our response to Netflix. It was exciting but at the same time, not what I really wanted to focus on. I was more into news than entertainment, and in print than broadcast news. The written word felt real to me in a way that television news never did. I loved investigative reporting, although I had never been a reporter. I loved being part of a newsroom, even if only from management's point of view. Chasing down an important story, with national or international significance, was what really excited me. I would keep the broadcast news arm of the business of course, but my focus would be on keeping the investigative and print side alive. Whether people read on paper or on their smartphones or tablets didn't matter. What mattered was that they were reading.

Hopefully, reading my newspaper.

After a quick lunch with my head editor at the paper, I went back to the building and prepared for a couple of meetings to catch up with the latest developments on the book publishing side of the business. I enjoyed that side. Developing an author, publishing the memoir or tell-all of some public figure or important political actor was exciting and had a real impact on the world. But news was and had always been my love.

So, it was that I waited to meet with Sharon, the lead acquisitions editor of the publishing house. She'd sent me an email earlier with a summary of what had been happening in the business since my father's death. There had been some turnover in staff and she was behind but we were in a state of flux at the moment and I had to cut her some slack. I tried to focus on the memo she had written about the upcoming spring release schedule, which was months away, but it was hard. There were a dozen big books slated to be released and one of them caught my eye. It was a romantic comedy / chick lit novel by one of our bestselling authors. Right away, I thought about Ella and her dream of living the single girl's life described by Candace Bushnell, replete with Mr. Big and a cadre of BFFs.

I hoped that we'd be able to carry on from where we'd left off the previous night, but I wouldn't push. Not too much, at least. The taste I'd had of her last night had served only to whet my appetite for more.

A knock came at my door as I was finishing up writing an email to my editor in chief and so I quickly sent it and then turned to the door, preparing for my next meeting with Sharon.

"Come in," I said and folded my hands in wait.

In Sharon walked, looking her usual self. Late forties, salt-and-pepper hair, fashionably dressed, and seeming a little frazzled. I knew she was feeling guilty for being behind in her work for the publishing imprint she was managing acquisitions editor.

She motioned to someone behind her and when the woman came forward, I realized it was Ella.

"Ella said you already met but I wanted to introduce you to our newest recruit. She'll be working with me as my new acquisitions assistant."

I stood abruptly, and buttoned my jacket, putting on as calm and cool expression as I could muster.

After we were all introduced formally, I turned to Sharon.

"So, I suppose you're relieved to have a new assistant. It must have been hard to keep up with everything after you lost your last one."

Sharon spoke for a moment about what she'd done for the past month without an assistant, getting some help from another staff member but not really being able to tackle her work.

I listened with half a mind, focused in part on Ella, who stood there, her eyes wide, a smile on her pretty face.

There was no need for Sharon to know anything about what happened between Ella and me the night before. I'd pretend that we only met that one time in the elevator and that adrenaline surged through me when I saw her again. Ella had that effect on me.

"Well, it's nice to meet you," I said and caught Ella's eye. "I hope you enjoy your new position with Macintyre Publishing."

"Thank you, Josh. I hope so, too."

Sharon led Ella out and I closed the door, exhaling heavily. I went back behind my desk, my mind working furiously, trying to figure out how to explain to Ella why I had led her on all this time.

I grabbed my cell and pulled up her last text.

JOSH: I know what just happened was awkward but when you get a few minutes, please come back to my office so we can talk. I know you were concerned about the ethics of us going out, but honestly, I'm not really involved in Dominion except quarterly.

I waited but there was no response. Fifteen minutes later, I sent another text.

JOSH: If you want to pretend we didn't have a great evening together and that you weren't really into what was happening last night, it's up to you. But I really enjoyed our time together and hope we can do it again. Please come by and see me.

Still nothing.

I sighed and turned back to the file on my desk, kicking myself mentally for not reassuring her that I would not expect anything from her that she didn't want to give or penalize her if she decided she didn't want anything else to happen between us. Given both our experiences with our exes, it was understandable she was reluctant to get involved with me. I felt that we really hit it off right from the start and it would be too bad if we didn't at least give it a try.

I could have walked to the elevator and gone to her office and demanded that she speak to me. I was the owner of the publishing house, after all, but I didn't want to embarrass her or take advantage of my position. That was what she was afraid of after all. I understood how it would look.

So I tried to distract myself, wondering if she would respond. She had to -- if she wanted the cashier's check. Luckily, my assistant came in and handed me a copy of something to sign and for the next hour, I was distracted and unable to ruminate much about Ella and how I hoped that she'd give me a chance despite technically being her boss.

The rest of my day passed much as the previous part had -- with me busy in meetings or reading over material in preparation for more meetings.

By five thirty, when I still hadn't received a reply from Ella, I sent her a final text.

JOSH: Look, Ella. I get that you're concerned about me being the owner of Dominion Publishing, but I really do want to help you even if you don’t want to see what develops between us. No matter what happens or doesn't happen between us, I still want to give you the cashier's check so you can get your apartment on Monday. If you want, I can have it sent to your office. If what happened between us upset you, you don't have to even see me or speak to me again. Let me know.

I sat holding the cashier's check in my hand. Made out to Roberto Bertelli, first and last month's rent, the check was for $5400.00. I googled the address and saw it was in a decent part of Chelsea, and using street view, I could see that her apartment was in an old brownstone building and was probably on the third floor. The street was tree-lined. It was close to a subway stop. The apartment would be a great choice for someone's first months in Manhattan. I envied her in a way. She was truly starting her life, and living her dream.

Work at a publishing house reading submissions. Living in a studio apartment in Chelsea. She was beautiful and young and smart. She'd have her pick of men, who I knew would be quite happy to give her the attention she deserved after being betrayed by her fiancé.

Problem was, I wanted to be the one who did that for her. I hated the thought that I'd been the one who found her and every other hungry dog standing around in the bars and clubs would be the ones who had a real chance.

Finally, at approximately 6:15, fifteen minutes before we had planned on going for some great Italian meatballs, I got a text from her.

ELLA: Sharon was able to get me a cashier's check. She totally understood my problem and was happy to help. I really think we should keep things professional between us. Thanks for everything you've done for me. I won't forget it even if we don't see each other outside of work again.

Crap.

I should have just chalked it up to experience and moved on. There were hundreds of young women who would be happy enough to spend time in my bed. Besides, I had a headhunter busy trying to find me a wife.

I should have put Ella Carlson out of my head, but I couldn't.

I didn't want to.

I didn't give up that easily when I saw something I wanted.

I wanted Ella. Still, I couldn’t force the issue. I'd have to try to build up trust with her and that would take time.

I'd give her some time – I'd wait a few days and then I'd ask her once more to come out with me for a meal. Maybe if I showed her I would be completely hands-off at Dominion from that day forward, she'd feel better about us seeing each other.

To that end, I send her one last text.

JOSH: I understand that you're reluctant to become involved with me because I own Dominion Publishing. If you change your mind or even just about the meatballs, you can text me and I'll be here. I really enjoyed meeting you and assure you that I would never use my position to gain any kind of advantage over you or force the issue. It's totally up to you.

Then, I went back to work, determined to give her some time and space to consider what I'd said. In a couple of days, I'd try again.

A few days later, after I'd immersed myself in work and tried my best to put Ella into the back of my mind, I decided to pop down to her office and see if I could accidentally run into her on the way to speak with Sharon.

I left my office and took the elevator down to her floor and went to Sharon's office, hoping to find Ella before she left, but I was too late. The office was still open, but Sharon was the only person remaining inside.

I popped in and saw her sitting behind her desk, a stack of files in front of her.

"Hey," I said and entered the office, taking the chair across from her. "How are you doing? We haven't had a chance to really sit down and talk since my father's death."

"I'm fine," she said and closed a file, removing her reading glasses and giving me a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm good. No complaints. Just wanted to see how things were in your neck of the woods. We've been in meetings together but we haven't had the chance to talk alone."

"I'm hugely relieved after finally getting my new assistant."

"Yes, I imagine. I'm glad you found someone to fill the role. Tell me about her. I haven't had a chance to read through any of the HR files." I shrugged, not sure I'd even seen any nor had I taken time to look.

"Oh, Ella? She's really bright, finished a BA in English from Dartmouth College. Wants to do a MFA at Columbia next year. She specialized in editing and creative writing, so she has an eye for both good writing and story. I'm really happy with her. It's a crime that we're getting her for free. I hope we can offer her a paid position when her internship ends."

"New Hampshire? Her last name is Carlson. Why does that ring a bell?"

Sharon raised her eyebrows. "Daddy is none other than the notorious Governor Emmet Carlson."

That shocked me. I sat back and rubbed my chin. "Governor Carlson? I think The Chronicle did a piece on him a few years ago. Has a lot of friends in high places who were passing on intel on some biotech stocks. He was never charged, but some of his underlings were."

"That's right. I remember it now. Ella just got out of a bad breakup. Seems there were a few problems with her fiancée." She wagged her eyebrows. "Not that I pry into my staff's personal lives, but given her father's position, stuff gets published. She just had a big breakup and she said she, and I quote, 'wanted to get the heck out of Dodge.'"

"Yeah, I know all about that," I said, referring to my own sorry tale of engagement woe. Sharon knew all about it. I'd asked her to take over soon after Christie and I split and I took some time off. I'd been honest with her, wanting to take a long vacation and try to wash Christie out of my system and Sharon had been only too happy to help me out. It meant a promotion for her, but she'd shown she could handle the added responsibilities.

"How are you doing?" she asked, her expression sympathetic.

"I'm good." I stood up, hoping to end that line of questioning immediately. "Well, I'm glad things worked out with the new hire. I just wanted to pop by before I left and make sure you were good. If you have any concerns, just call me. You know my door is always open."

"Thanks," she said and smiled.

I left, hoping I hadn't raised any suspicions on her part about my visit.

Then I took the elevator down to the parking garage and sat in my car, pondering my next move.

If she wouldn't answer my texts, I'd have to run into her at work, which might cause all sorts of issues, but the only alternative was to go to her new place and try to contact her that way. Which sounded way too stalkerish even to me.

I decided to order some flowers and send them to her office tomorrow.

Maybe I could win her over with yet another apology. She wasn't a lightweight, and probably had developed a strong spine after her own failed engagement.

Whatever the case, I wouldn't give up until she and I sat with her face to face and talked it out.

I checked out an online florist and ordered two dozen violet roses. For the card, I put down the following:

Ella:

I know we got off to a rocky start, with scraped knees and elbows, and you're worried about who I am, but my offer of the greatest Italian meatballs stands.

Sincerely,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Bicycle Courier Impersonator

There really wasn't anything else appropriate for me to do but make the offer and see if she responded. She had every right to ignore me but I hoped I could convince her that I was sincere. I wanted to give it a good try at least, before either of us wrote off the relationship. I should have probably just put her completely out of my mind, but I couldn't.