Margo tapped her pen against her temple, rolling her eyes at the person she was talking to on the phone. Her light blond hair, slicked back into a ponytail, was looking even lighter with the late morning sun, peering through her office window. She was the epitome of sophistication. On the verge of sixty, she had more style than women half her age. After catching bits of the conversation, I put the pieces together and realized she was talking to Jess. By the sounds of her somewhat heated words, I was going to be there for a while, so I pulled my phone out and checked my email.
“Well, Jess, if you think you can do a better job on your own, then far be it from me to stop you.” Margo’s tone was short and to the point. She was a tough-as-nails business woman who you didn’t want to cross, and Jess was crazy for doing so. “Very well.” She hung up the phone, seeming a little rattled but trying not to let it show.
“Everything okay with Jess?” I asked.
“She’s a foolish girl if she thinks she can manage her clients on her own. She will fail, and when she does, she’s not coming back here. I’m done with her.”
“Maybe you should just give her time to come to her senses.”
“Bree, sweetheart, how long have you known me?” She raised an eyebrow and continued, not giving me a chance to answer. “I don’t give second chances.”
I sighed heavily, knowing Jess had just committed career suicide. Margo had an inside track to most of the clients. They would without a doubt be more loyal to her than Jess—meaning Jess would need to start all over and find new clients on her own, which wouldn’t be an easy task.
“So, what’s going on with you?” She switched gears.
“Not much.”
“Did Darren speak with you last week?”
“He did. I don’t know why he found it necessary to break it to me gently. Like I told him, no hard feelings. Business is business.”
She let out her characteristic boisterous laugh. “Oh, darling, I taught you well.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.
A quick smile spread across my face when I peered at my watch—almost my favorite time of the week. “I really need to get going. I have to meet a client.” I stood up.
“Oh yes, Mr. Grace.” Margo raised an eyebrow. “How are things going with him?”
“Fine. We’ve only met two times so far, but it seems to be going good.”
She nodded. “Handsome, isn’t he?”
“Umm…yeah, I guess, but so are most of my clients.” I played it off, but I could tell she was seeing right through my phony persona. She knew me too well.
“Good. Keep that attitude. I don’t need you falling in love on me.”
I shook my head and laughed it off. “I’ll see you later, Margo.” I turned around to make my exit.
“And, Bree,” Margo called just as I reached the door. “I’m going to need you to take on a few more clients, now that Darren is off your schedule and Jess is no longer with us, but we’ll discuss this later.”
I hesitated for a moment. I knew it was a test to see how far my loyalty lay. “Yeah, okay,” I muttered, walking out of her office and onto the street. I was so angry at myself. Why didn’t I put my foot down and tell her no—I didn’t want any more clients. Margo loved to play her games, even with me. It didn’t matter that she and I had a relationship that went beyond her business. She didn’t make exceptions when it came to working. I had known that going in, but lately her little power struggle wasn’t sitting well with me. I didn’t like being manipulated into doing something I didn’t want, but if I wanted to continue to pay my rent and eat, I had no other choice but to bow down to her requests. I’d delay it for as long as I could, but sooner or later Margo always got her way.
I tried calling Jess on my way to the hotel and got her voicemail. Opting to not leave a message, I decided I’d try her back later and lecture her on her decision. My attention was buried in my phone, checking my emails when I stepped out of the cab, causing me to literally walk into Thursday Afternoon.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” My stomach flipped ever so slightly as I looked up into those expressive green eyes.
He laughed it off, staring at me a little while longer.
“So, did you want me to go in first?” I asked, pulling it together.
“Uh...no.”
“Oh, okay. So, did you want to go—”
He shook his head, leaving me totally baffled. “Let’s go get lunch.”
“Oh, umm.”
“Assuming you’re hungry, that is,” he continued.
“Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”
He flagged down a cab and opened the door, allowing me to get in first. “Sixty-Seventh Street and Central Park West,” he said to the driver when he hopped in.
“Tavern On The Green?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Are you okay with that?” he asked.
“Perfectly okay.”
His gaze penetrated through me. Every time he looked at me, it was as if he was searching for someone else in my eyes. I averted my gaze and stared out the window. Oddly enough, the silence that loomed between us wasn’t awkward; in fact it was welcoming. I’d always hated the need for small talk just to have something to say.
The cab pulled up to the restaurant and we both got out and walked inside. I smiled when he confirmed his reservation with the maître d’.
“You were awful sure of yourself that I’d agree to lunch, weren’t you?” I teased as we were shown to our table.
“I took a chance,” he replied.
After a few drinks, we were both loosening up a bit.
“Can I ask you a question?” he inquired.
“Depends on what it is.”
“Which kid is yours?”
I nearly choked on the sip of wine I had just taken. “Excuse me?” I expelled a nervous laugh.
“At Sunday school.”
“Oh…that!” I grinned. “None of them.”
Now it was him who was puzzled.
“I’m helping out Hann—Sister Hannah with something.” I wasn’t sure if that provided him with a sense of clarification or confused him more. My amusement grew at his bewilderment. “It’s a long story, but no need to worry, I’m not converting your son’s teacher into becoming a call girl.”
His adorable dimples were out in full force. In the short time of knowing him, I’d realized he had two starkly different smiles—one forced and somewhat tortured, and the other genuine and somewhat boyish. The one I was seeing right then was the latter of the two, and the few times I had witnessed it, it had always made me smile in return.
Over the course of our lunch, I learned some more about him and his family. His entire family lived in England, and it was just him and Jack here. His father was a doctor, and from what I gathered just from listening to him talk, his family came from generations of wealth. He didn’t offer up any more information about his wife, and I didn’t probe.
“Did you ever think of moving back to England with your son? It’s got to be lonely here without any family.”
“I thought about it, but I have my business here, and—” He paused for a moment. “Memories.”
“That makes sense.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Where is your family?”
A knot formed in my stomach whenever I thought of them. “They live in California. San Francisco area.”
“Maybe I should be asking you the same question then. Why are you not living in California?”
“Well, I came to the city when I was sixteen, after I got accepted into the American School of Ballet. After that, I was part of the New York City Ballet.”
He seemed confused by my switch in career.
“I got injured, and it kind of put an end to my dancing,” I explained. “I wanted to stay in the city and, well…” I sighed. “I guess this was an easy way to do it.”
He nodded. “Do you like your job?”
I looked away and then back at him. “That’s a tough question.”
“Why is that?”
“Because either way I answer, it makes me look like a terrible person. If I say I enjoy having sex for money it makes me a slut, and if I say that I don’t it makes me desperate.” I was happy when the waiter came over, creating a diversion and allowing me to avoid his question.
After lunch we took advantage of the rare mild winter day by taking a walk in Central Park.
“So, I was wondering if you’d be available to come with me to a cocktail party on Sunday night?” he asked.
“As far as I know, but everything needs to get scheduled through Margo. Sorry, they’re her rules.”
“No need to apologize, I’ll make sure I clear it with her.”
We took a seat on a bench and people-watched. I sensed sadness in his eyes when he focused on the young mother walking hand in hand with the little boy who looked to be around his son’s age.
“How long were you married?” I asked, breaking him from his trance.
He stared straight ahead and tried to compose himself. “Seven years. Annie and I met in college. I knew the moment I first saw her that I was going to marry her.” He blinked away the tears. “She was—she was everything to me.”
I knew I may have been overstepping my boundaries with my next question, but I couldn’t help myself. “How did she die?”
He sighed heavily, turning his head in my direction and making me instantly regret my decision when I saw the pain shooting through his eyes.
“I’m-I’m sorry, I should have never asked that, it’s really not my business.” I retreated.
“She was in a skiing accident,” he uttered.
My eyes widened, and I pulled in my lip to stop it from quivering. “When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Were you there when it happened?”
“No,” he whispered as his eyes glassed over. “She wasn’t even supposed to have gone. I had a business trip scheduled, so there was no one to watch Jack. It ended up getting canceled at the last minute, so she went.” He intertwined his hands behind his neck and looked up at the sky. “We actually got into a huge fight right before she left.” He let out a deep, cleansing breath and shook his head. “And all I could think was, if that trip hadn’t been canceled she’d still be alive.”
I was speechless for a split second. I knew his pain all too well, and I wanted so desperately to share some of it with him to help alleviate his own guilt. “I am so sorry for your loss, but you have to release that blame you’re placing on yourself or it will fester inside of you and turn you into something you don’t want to become.”
He tilted his head and squinted, fighting off the bright sunlight.
“I would never say this to you if it weren’t true…but I really do know exactly how you’re feeling.”
He stared at me intently.
“I was in love…once. My story is somewhat similar to yours, but I was unable to unleash that guilt I placed on myself, and now look what I’ve become.”
“I don’t get it, Bree. What have you become?”
“An emotionless, conscienceless, poor excuse for a human being.”
“That’s funny, because that’s not what I see when I look at you. I see a beautiful, caring, intelligent woman.”
“Wow, you’ve got that so wrong.” I flashed a nervous smile.
“Do I? Because so far you haven’t proven otherwise.”
“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that, but thank you for being so kind.”
He moved his hand until it was overlapping mine. Pure contentment washed over me, and for the first time in a long time, my self-loathing diminished ever so slightly. There was something in his words that was so sincere. He didn’t have any ulterior motives. He actually saw beyond my empty shell exterior, scantily touching upon the girl I once was…the girl I wished I could be again someday.