“The phone call you got earlier?”
He nodded and chewed on his bottom lip. He let it go, and gritted his teeth for a moment. “There’s a case I’m working on that’s been…difficult. But we got new information this week that should help wrap it up quickly. I just might not be able to see you until after.”
“Good luck, then.” I twisted the key in the ignition and tried not to frown. I really couldn’t afford to be late.
“I’ll take it. I can’t wait for this thing to be over with.” He kissed me again and stood up from his crouched position. “I’ll call you later.”
“Bye,” I said just before he closed the car door. I waited for him to take a step back before I put the car in reverse. He waved goodbye¸ and I did the same before I turned to look back over my shoulder to make sure there weren’t cars heading my way. When I shifted the car into drive, I took one last glance at Tyson only to see him on his front step, hands clasped behind his neck. His face was scrunched up and his head was tilted toward the sky.
It was not the picture of a man who had just had two great orgasms and was falling in love, again, with his high school sweetheart. It was the picture of a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders and had no idea what in the hell he was going to do. It certainly didn’t make my heart feel warm and fuzzy as I drove down the street. I hated that it was the last vision I had of him.
As I sped through Latham Hills, hit the freeway, and rushed to my hotel to get changed for work, I tried to push that vision of Tyson out of my mind and focus on the day ahead. I really wanted the permanent position at DPA and I couldn’t afford to screw it up.
Fortunately, the rush hour traffic was light enough that I was able to get to my hotel with just enough time to spare to throw on a decent amount of makeup, fix my messy, wet hair into a decent looking knot at the nape of my neck, and get dressed in a simple black skirt, red silk shirt, and black heels. I still managed to make it into work after a stop at a drive-thru Starbucks with one minute to spare.
Breathless, I hurried to my desk and was just sinking into the seat in front of the cubicle wall that separated my desk from Simone’s office when she came rushing out of her office.
“I need help,” she said, almost as breathless as I was.
“With what?” I dropped my purse and stood up so I could reach for the paper in her hand.
“The flower delivery for Saturday is short ten centerpieces. And not only that, we’re also short two hundred wineglasses. I have no idea what happened, but there are other fires burning. Can I trust you take care of this? I can’t screw up on this party.”
“I’ll take care of it.” How…I had no clue, but she needed my assurances, not my doubts.
“These are my distributors,” Simone said, her eyes lined with worry. “I had everything delivered early to make sure Saturday night will go off without a hitch. I get more business from this event than I do all year long. It’s important this is perfect.”
I had been to my parents’ hosted events. Even as a teenager, I understood the importance of them. It was the one time a year my father stepped out of his underworld dealings and looked as if he was a respected member of society. Everyone who was anyone would be there, from politicians to professional athletes to the most lucrative businessmen in the Detroit area.
Forcing a confident smile onto my face, I met Simone’s gaze and hoped like hell she couldn’t see me visibly shaking with worry at screwing this up. “I understand, Simone. I promise you, I’ll fix it.”
“Okay.” She sighed heavily. She must have believed me. Thank goodness. “Let me know when you have it sorted. I’ve got more calls to make.”
“Will do.” I sat back in my chair, stared at the invoice in front of me along with an order form that clearly showed the incorrect amount being ordered in the first place, and then booted up my computer to find the original spreadsheet for the benefit. Simone had walked me through everything before and I had spent so much time checking and double-checking facts, it didn’t take me long to figure out where the mistake was made, and unfortunately, it was not on the supplier’s end.
It was on her previous assistant’s, who simply switched the numbers around on the order form when she inputted them. I blamed pregnancy-brain—a mysterious illness I’d heard made pregnant women absentminded.
Regardless, as I picked up the phone to call the suppliers to see how I could fix this and keep Simone from kicking me out on my butt, I said a quick prayer and hoped like hell I could get the job done.
—
“How did you manage this so quickly?” Simone asked, pulling her shocked, light green eyes off my notes and up to me.
I debated telling her, and then decided to be honest. “I know that the mayor of Detroit uses the same company for his annual Christmas party. I gently mentioned that it might not be good for their business if the mayor’s wife were to find out that they had become difficult to work with.” I took a breath, gauging the look of surprise on Simone’s face and continued. “I also mentioned to the florist that I’d heard the daughter of the CEO of General Motors will be engaged soon, and if they could somehow manage to come up with enough of the flowers that were, I apologize, incorrectly ordered, I would be sure to put in a good word about their services this weekend.”
I slipped my cheek in between my teeth, worrying it, while she stared at me with wide, pale eyes. Slowly, she slipped her hot pink glasses off and set them on the desk, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. I thought I had made a huge mistake when she began shaking her head back and forth.
“Do you have any idea how much you’ve just saved my hide?” she asked, lifting her head back up.
My stalled heart began beating again. “Yes?”
Laughing softly, Simone held up the notes I’d just delivered to her along with assurances, in writing via email, that the new glasses would be delivered Friday afternoon by two, and the florist would make up the shortage as well.
“If it had been my last assistant, she would have been scrambling until Saturday morning, trying to fix her own mistake.”
I shuffled on my feet, uncertain if I should reveal the complete truth.
“I don’t believe your assistant had my last name working in her favor,” I admitted, looking away from her. “I didn’t mean to, and I apologize if I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine,” Simone said, pulling my gaze back to her. “Sometimes it’s more about who you know than what you know, and you’ve clearly proven today that, well, you know people.”
I doubted she meant to end on such an ominous-sounding note, but I still flinched.
“Well, in the future, I’ll try not to use my name.”
“Use whatever works, Gabriella. You’ve done your job and that’s what I asked.”
She dismissed me with a nod, and I went to my desk and grabbed my purse, intent on heading out for a quick bite of lunch before returning for the afternoon.
“Would you like anything from the sushi place around the corner?” I asked Simone.
“California rolls,” she said, covering the mouthpiece of her phone. “And thank you.”
I tried my best to put the morning behind me and headed outside, quickly putting on a pair of sunglasses when the warm, spring sun temporarily blinded me. We were in the middle of a brief heat wave and it was gorgeous outside, signaling summer—and the humidity that accompanied it—was quickly approaching.
It was late for lunchtime so the sidewalks were pretty empty and the traffic relatively light. Due to the quiet outside, I decided to take my lunch, spicy crab and yellowtail scallion rolls, to a park just a block away from Hajime, the sushi restaurant, and my office.
Once I was seated at a picnic table and had begun eating and taking sips of iced tea, I picked up my phone and called the one person who’d been on my mind since yesterday. Perhaps Eleanor could help me make sense of the mess I seemed to find myself in with Tyson.
The phone rang three times and I began to lose hope, assuming she was out working with her goats or tending her garden. Then an out-of-breath Eleanor quickly said, “Hello?”
Tears instantly stung my eyes. For ten years, Eleanor had essentially been my mom, and I truly hadn’t realized how much I missed her soft and kind voice until I heard it again.
“Hey, Eleanor,” I said, fighting off the tears and trying to stop my chin from trembling.
She noticed immediately. I could practically feel the warmth of her arms wrap around me through the phone. “Oh Ella, what’s happened? Is it your mom?”
I sniffed and shook my head before I remembered she couldn’t see me.
“No, it’s just…life.”
“Do you have time to tell me about it?” Her voice was soft, almost melodic.
I explained everything to her. I told her about running into Tyson on the plane, which caused her to make a startled gasp. I told her about how poorly my mom—her sister—was doing, which left us both choking back tears. I told her about Malik and my father’s insistence that I marry him, which made her growl, which in turn made me laugh. And then we cheered and smiled and laughed when I told her about my new apartment, shopping for furniture, and my new, hopefully soon-to-be-permanent job with DPA. I spilled everything. I tossed every emotion, every fear, every concern, and every hope I’d had since I returned home into her lap because I knew I could trust her with all of it.