39

tabby

 

Halloween was lonely, with Greyson away in Florida. It wasn’t a major holiday, but it was my first alone. It reminded me of other days of importance looming ahead that. Days where I’d also likely find myself alone. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s … I knew I shouldn’t begrudge Greyson for possibly choosing Sebastian over me. He’d had fifteen years of holidays with me, but these would be his first with his father. He had memories to make and new traditions to create. But still, my heart hurt with every too-early Christmas song played.

I tried keeping myself busy with the steady stream of trick-or-treaters visiting the agency. Princesses and unicorns, superheroes and zombies, all begging for candy with shy smiles. Jess had taken off for the day, to spend it with her kids, leaving Alex and me to drop miniature candy bars into pumpkin buckets and canvas totes.

“Trick-or-treat!” A gaggle of elementary school children announced in unison, stepping into the office with their pillowcases extended.

“Well, let’s see here,” Alex scrutinized in a teasing voice and grabbed for the plastic cauldron of candy. “We have a witch, a Cinderella, a very cool Wolverine, and … hmm, what’s your costume?”

I poked my head out from my office to look at the little girl, dressed in a plaid flannel shirt, dirty jeans, and tool belt. She beamed up at the tall Dracula and announced proudly, “I’m a carpenter, just like my daddy.”

“I told her girls can’t be carpenters,” Wolverine grumbled disapprovingly.

Stepping out of my office, I challenged the little superhero with a cock of my brow and said, “Girls can be whatever they want.” I turned my attention to her, crouching down to meet my eyes with hers before saying, “I love your costume.”

“I like yours, too,” the little girl whispered shyly, triumph glimmering in her hazel eyes.

Glancing down at my Foo Fighters t-shirt, fitted black jeans, and red Converse, I smiled and said, “Oh, thank you so much, honey.”

“What are you even supposed to be?” Cinderella asked, wrinkling her nose.

I chuckled lightly, wishing I had remembered to throw on my cape and witch’s hat before greeting them, and replied, “I’m a real estate agent.”

The carpenter’s lips curled into an approving grin. “Real estate agents are cool.”

Remembering the pencil skirts and uncomfortable heels cluttering my closet at home, I forced the ruefulness from my smile as I nodded. “Yeah, we are.”

The kids left, and I headed back into my office. Work was quiet, a usual downside to living in such a small town. The amount of people moving in or out of Hog Hill was minimal, especially during the holidays, and I found myself now with an empty workload. I wondered if I should take my lunch break, maybe call up Mrs. Worthington and see how she was doing in her new living arrangement.

Heaving a sigh, I grabbed my phone and quickly tapped out a message to Greyson.

 

  Me: Hey kiddo. How’s it going?

 

Seconds passed before it chimed with his reply, and I smiled as I read:

 

  Greyson: So cool. Devin’s AWESOME.

  Me: Yeah, he’s a really nice guy.

  Greyson: They just did soundcheck and I got to play “Everlong” with them.

 

I stared at the message longer than I’d like to admit, mostly at the title of the song I had begun to think of as Sebastian’s and mine—ours. I hadn’t listened to it since I’d walked away from him months before in that parking garage. Not after what I had said—what I had done. How could I?

Before I could reply, the door to the office opened. I listened as Alex asked in a terrible Transylvanian accent, “What can I do for you today, sir?”

“I’m here to see Tabitha. Is she here?”

The rich sound of velvet floated into my office, and I couldn’t help the chills that traveled the length of my spine. His voice was nearly foreign, but I could still recognize that decadent depth anywhere.

Roman Dolecki.

“She is,” Alex admitted, and at the sound of his chair scraping against the wooden floor, he added, “Let me see if she’s busy.”

At that, he hurried into my office, quietly closing the door behind him. His grey-shadowed eyes stared with urgency as he muttered through gritted teeth, “That fine slab of rich man meat is standing out there. What should I do with him?”

I rolled my eyes, pushed away from my desk, and said, “I’ll go see him.”

“Are you sure? Do you even remember what he said to you last time you spoke with him? God, Tabitha, I wouldn’t talk to him again, if I were you.”

“Yes, I remember,” I grumbled with a heated groan. Truthfully, the last thing I wanted was to talk to Roman Dolecki. Not after what he had said to me on the phone following his altercation with Sebastian and me. But I was still a professional, and I would hear him out.

Moving past a dumbfounded Alex, I left my office to find Roman, predictably wearing an expensive suit and standing with his watch aimed toward his gaze. Always busy. Always somewhere more important to be.

“Roman.” I alerted him to my presence with a razor’s edge tacked onto my voice, and he turned to face me.

“Tabitha,” he replied with a formal nod of his chin, and I immediately noted the apology washing over his brown eyes. “Can we maybe speak in your office?” His gaze slid to meet Alex, now standing protectively nearby. “Privately?”

With a hastened nod, I hurried back into my office, with Roman following close at my heels. I waited for him to be seated, noting Alex’s warning glare shooting daggers at the back of his head, and I closed the door.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t a surprise,” I said immediately, hurrying around the desk to my chair. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m surprised you’d even agree to speak with me again, after the awful things I said to you,” he admitted, bowing his head with shame. “Which is exactly why I came here. To apologize.”

“It’s been months,” I said, dismissing his words with a wave of my hand. “I haven’t thought about all of that in weeks.” It was the truth. Thoughts of Roman Dolecki had remained dormant, until he had walked through the door several minutes ago.

He smiled with remorse despite the dismissal. “I’m glad to hear it, but Tabitha, the way I spoke to you was inexcusable. Truthfully, I was hurt and rejected, but taking it out on you in that way was completely out of character. I wanted you to know that I really am sorry for what I said. I had no right.”

I pursed my lips tersely, accepting the apology with a nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it, I just …” I cocked my head, narrowing my gaze with question. “I just don’t entirely understand why you’re doing this now.”

“Ah, well …” Roman ran his hand over the back of his head, smoothing his dark hair as he hesitated. “I’ve been meaning to, but I wasn’t sure how, and then so much time had passed … But, then, I received a phone call—”

Every extremity froze, every vertebra locked. “A phone call?”

Shame and embarrassment shadowed his features as he nodded. “Yes, uh … I received a phone call the other day, asking if I ever apologized to you. When I said no, I was asked why not, and I didn’t have a good answer.”

A blend of affection and anger coalesced in my gut. My lips pinched and then rolled together as I shook my head, and then said, “I’m sure I can guess who it was.”

With a brief nod, he forced a smile. “I was taken aback, but I can’t say I blame him either. He was just making sure I did the right thing by you, and …”

Roman’s words dissipated into the air, and I glanced back to his face to find a wistful gaze in his eyes. The faintest of affectionate smiles curved his lips, and I asked what he was smiling about.

“O-oh,” he stuttered, coming back from his day dream. “It’s just, I couldn’t understand before why you’d choose him over me. I understand the relationship to him, but romantically, it didn’t make any sense to me at the time. But,” he locked his eyes with mine as his smile broadened, “if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I would have defended you the way he did. Truthfully, I’ve never felt that way toward anybody before, not even my ex-wife, which is probably why she’s my ex.”

“Roman …” I swallowed, deflating with my exhale.

He lifted his hand to stop my words. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, Tabitha. I know I never could’ve been what he is for you. Hell, I wonder if I can be that for anybody sometimes.” His eyes crinkled with a rueful smile. “And I am sorry about what happened to our professional relationship. That was …” His head shook with his personal disdain. “Unforgivable.”

“Yeah, well,” I sucked at my teeth, feeling the bitter bite of that reminder, “it is what it is.”

Roman tapped his fingers against the armrests of the chair. Something was still hanging in the air. Unspoken words, unfinished business. I was tempted to ask what else was on his mind, but I left it alone. What was the point?

He reached across the desk, touching his fingers to mine. “Have a good life, Tabitha.” His smile was reluctant as he stood, sighing with finality. “I hope it’s everything you wanted.”

“You too, Roman,” I rasped through a dry throat, as I watched him leave.