“Maybe you should call him then … He owes you an explanation, Emma … You can’t just keep second
guessing him all the time.” She picks up my phone and lays it on my chest, but I don’t move. The last
thing I want to do is call him. He’ll be driving back to Manhattan anyway, back to his apartment, miles
away from me. He wouldn’t pick up.
“Can we drop this?” I sit up so the phone slides down my body and lands on the bed. She sighs and
flops back beside me, flat so her head is nestled in my cushions. Thinking for a moment, she sits up
and takes my hand.
“You know what the biggest problem with you two is?” Sarah blinks at me but I just glare at her and
offer no response.
“You don’t communicate with one another when it comes to feelings. You’re as bad as each other.
Neither of you seem capable of just coming out with it and putting your heart on the line. I don’t think
he’s as immune to you as you believe. I think he’s scared, and so are you, and if this continues then
neither of you will get anywhere.” Sarah crosses her arms triumphantly and sits back.
“You finished?” I slide my legs out from under me to make myself a little more comfortable. “I know you
think you have this figured out, but remember, I know him. I know what he is. Jake likes uncomplicated
and he knows we’re exactly the opposite of that.” I raise my hand as Sarah goes to say more. I don’t
want to listen to it. Every time I talk or hear a single word about Jake it just makes me more depressed
and anxious. I don’t want to analyze it anymore. I just want to drop it. She narrows her brows at me
then changes tact, her face turning coy. I can almost see her drop the subject mentally. She wavers for
a moment, then something else sparks in her face.
“Your mom called me.” Her tone is gentle, but I still stiffen as though she’s slapped me hard.
She really chooses the most epic of topics!
“Did she now?” I bite back emotion through gritted teeth. I certainly don’t need this line of conversation
either.
“She asked if you’d calmed down yet … Told me you’d launched a bowl of food at her head … I did
wonder where half the crockery had gone.” She pushes some of my loose hair behind my ear, watching
me closely. My face betrays the fact that I don’t want to talk about it. “Anything you want to let out?”
She smiles at me encouragingly, but I shake my head and pull myself free to retrieve the mugs. I hand
her one and avoid eye contact.
“When it comes to her, I think it’s safe to say, our story has ended … There’s nothing more for us to say
to one another.” As much as it hurts me to say it, I know it’s true. My mother and I have reached an
impasse, a road in our lives where too much has gone on to ever be set right. She chose her bed many
times and now she must lie in it. I’m done being dragged back, time and time again, to a place that
causes me pain. If Jake taught me anything it was that I deserve more from her. I didn’t deserve the
men she dragged into my life. He showed me that what those men repeatedly did wasn’t my fault. It
was hers for not protecting me. The thought causes a tear to run down my cheek.
“Are you okay, Ems?” Sarah’s hand comes to my shoulder in gentle comforting affection. I close my
eyes swallowing the tears down, empty and defeated with all of it.
“I’m just really tired, Sarah … It’s been one hell of a couple of days. I think I just need some sleep.” I
turn and give her a weak smile. Relieved when she takes the hint and gets up to leave me be; she
knows there’s still a huge part of old Emma in me, the one who sometimes needs space to be alone.
“I’ll let you get some shut eye … Marcus is working late so I won’t be going to bed until he’s home … If
you want me, I’ll be in the lounge with my old friend Netflix.” She grins back at me, blowing a kiss,
shutting my door behind her. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I should eat, but I have no appetite. Instead I pull out my oversized Joey bear. I never found the heart
to throw this gift away from Jake. I curl up on my bed into its huge furry belly, sliding the mug of cocoa,
untouched, back to the side table. I just want to sleep today away and forget it ever happened.
* * *
I’m half asleep when I get to work the next day. I tossed and turned most of the night, seeing every
hour on the clock despite my exhaustion. Anytime I dozed off, Jake plagued my dreams, the memory of
his mouth on mine, the feel of his arms around me. Torturing me over and over. My mother crept in
there too, haunting the depths of my mind with a ghost like face, her arms outstretched trying to pull me
back into the darkness. Jake’s arms solidly folded around me, pulling me back with him into the
sunshine. The irony of the dream isn’t lost on me.
Wilma hands me an envelope as soon as she arrives, sliding it onto my desk with a smile that makes
me stop what I’m typing and look up questioningly
“Margo asked me to pass this on.” She grins, walking off toward her desk, looking almost smug. I rip
open the envelope and pull out the letter, opening the folded cream paper as a ticket slides out and I
scan the note
Dearest Emma, this was bought quite a while back and as it’s a named guest list, only you can use
this. Jake insisted I send it to you. I hope you do go and have some fun! See you there. Xx Margo
The ticket has my name, plus guest, printed neatly on it, in gold foil. It’s the Marie Curie charity ball in
Manhattan tomorrow night. I was the one to get Jake these tickets for his entire staff on the sixty-fifth, a
goodwill gesture from Jake, as each ticket raised funds for the event. I groan inwardly knowing if I don’t
go then Jake’s wasted hundreds of dollars on my ticket, but if I do go, then he’ll be there and so will half
the people I worked with.
Do I go? Can I see him again so soon? If I do, then who do I take with me? How can I face him after
last night?
As his PA, we decided to go together. No dates required, but that was then, at a time when he seemed
to be going off his endless casual dates and was happy to have me escort him everywhere.
Who am I kidding?
I only have Sarah to ask and I already know she has shifts tomorrow night. Apart from her, there is no
one else I feel comfortable asking and I’d never ask a date. I sigh, heavily, sliding the envelope and its
contents into my bag. Thankfully, the days of working for Jake have left me with a wardrobe full of
expensive clothes, I’ll have no problem finding a suitable dress if I do go alone.
I check the time, it’s only mid-morning so I submerge myself in the details of the Carrero Corporation
anniversary event. The one-hundred-year celebration of the Carrero empire. Today’s job is dealing with
an array of mind-numbing details; liaising with the event designer over napkins and such while Wilma
has a week of press releases to get through. Somehow, in the brief time I’ve been here, she’s
designated me as her own PA rather than just another member of staff. It’s given me a little pride
knowing I haven’t lost my skills after all and my confidence is slowly ebbing its way back to me.
My phone rings just before lunch and I pick it up, in my usual cheery tone.
“Hi, Emma, it’s Rosalie … From Mr. Carrero’s office.” She sounds sheepish. I guess she’s wary after
Jake’s little angry appearance down here yesterday. I’m a tad sorry for her because I know only too
well what he can be like and she was never one to deal well with him directly, always seemingly
intimidated by him if I’m honest.
“Yes, Rosalie, how can I help you?” I keep my tone friendly; I won’t mention yesterday. I have no
intention of making her feel uncomfortable or lay blame, I’m over it.
“Mr. Carrero has asked that you come up to see him, immediately to discuss a matter, he was dealing
with this morning … He says on your behalf.” She hesitates, trying not to say too much on the phone.
We all know that most of the calls inhouse are monitored and she probably has ears listening in,
nearby.
“Right now?” I ask. It’s so like him to expect me to drop everything and come running when he clicks
his fingers.
Has he forgotten that he dumped me on the pavement last night, without a backward glance?
“Umm yes … He did say … Immediately.” She gulps. I get the impression he’s either close by in the
office or has his door open and can possibly hear her. If he knows I’m arguing against him then he’ll no
doubt take his mood out on her, so I sigh in defeat.
“Okay … I’m on my way … Goodbye, Rosalie.” I place the receiver on the cradle then send Wilma an
internal message that I’ve been summoned to the sixty-fifth for a minute and walk out. She’s engrossed
in a call, but she reaches over to her laptop as I pass her window. Upon reading what I presume is my
message she turns and waves at me with a smile, in confirmed approval of me leaving the office.
62fb1bb41dcb31934bd49bda