“Do you still want me to send you the file?”
“Yes,” I answered so quickly I barely let him finish his sentence.
I hung up the phone feeling fucked up. She was the daughter of the man who cost me my family and my future. I stared at my computer mindlessly, looking for answers on how to cope with the hand I’d been dealt.
Two minutes after we hung up, I had her file saved to my laptop and her photo printed in my hand. Looking down at her driver’s license, all I could think of was Elena was perfect. Who the fuck takes such a nice driver’s license photo. She was flawless and had kind eyes. I wasn’t good enough for her. I was too broken, but that was her father’s fault. I slammed my hand onto the desk, knocking my coffee cup off the edge and smashing it into pieces. On cue, there was a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I called. My nervous assistant walked in the room a little concerned for my safety. There were always rumors going around that I was one bad day away from jumping off the building. I hadn’t actually ever thought about killing myself. I may have had a life that would never include a family, but I loved giving to others. I’d spent money on rehabilitation programs and orphanages. Helping those without parents became a necessity for me. If I hadn’t had my jackass uncle, I would have been put in foster care even though I was wealthy. I would have been in the same boat as all those I help. It was a crazy, scary time, but I made it through semi-complete and with some family to rely on.
“Sir, I was just wondering if you were okay.” Her genuine concern lessened some of my frustration. She truly cared about me. I knew that from the first day she applied.
When I had asked her about my scars during her initial interview, she passed the test.
“So, Mrs. Brown, what do think when you see my scars?”
“Honestly. They’d catch anyone’s attention immediately. Just as any prominent feature on a person. If a woman with large breasts passed by, I would still notice them even though they hold no real interest for me. Even if you do not hire me, I want you to know that your scars are just a part of you. If they bother you, they’ll make others uncomfortable. If you own them, then others will see them as a part of who you are.”
“Damn, that was the best answer I’d ever been given. I don’t appreciate the cringing I get from some. Mrs. Brown, Kim, you’ve got the job.”
That was almost ten years ago. Damn, I was twenty-seven and had just found someone who I wanted to look past my scars.
“Yes, Kim, I’m fine. I’m going to go back home. I’ve got some things that came up. Please email with any important issues that need my attention.”
“Okay. Will you be in the office tomorrow?” I only took time off to do charity work at hospitals, so it wasn’t like me to play hooky.
“I don’t know yet, but you can still contact me.” I cracked a simple smile to ease her mind.
“Take care, Sir. I hope everything will be just fine.”
“Don’t worry, Kim. I may be a miserable asshole, but I’m not going to off myself. I feel a change in the air. For the first time, I’ve got a bit of hope.”
“Okay. I know this is may be out of line, but you’ve got to know that you’re handsome. As a mother, I can tell it’s your scars that bother you even after all these years, but there will be someone who won’t even notice them. You’ve got qualities I hope my boys develop when they get to your age. Remember, the person in the mirror is your harshest critic.”
“Thanks, Kim. I needed that. I hope Jason and Jamie become the men you want them to be.” She nodded and left my office. I appreciated her sympathy. She was a mother, but she didn’t have that matronly appearance. Most wouldn’t know she was already forty-five and had two teenagers. She had helped me stay strong throughout the years.
I left the office with the file on my laptop and her photo in my jacket pocket. I sat in the back of my car as my driver got on the road. My office and home were only about a mile apart so the drive was a short one, but it seemed to take forever. I took out the photo of Elena and stared at her bright green eyes. I wondered if she would be as kind as she looked in this picture. I ran my thumb across the photo caressing her face as though it was really her.
My driver pulled up to my building and I tucked it away. When I got out of the car, I got a freaking shock. There she was; she was talking to a man in a suit in front of a condo building on the opposite side of the street. Jealousy struck me head on. I was ready to punch the guy in the face. Crossing the street, I forgot that she was related to the man that ruined everything for me. That shit was rarely a thought in my head anymore. I wanted her and seeing her even speaking to another man sent my ass into a tailspin of rage. She was mine, and she needed to learn that shit.