“She could be having a girl, you know,” I said, sidestepping my concerns.
“Iknow,” Kevin cheered. “Either way, we’re having a frickin’ baby! Syd’s going to be the best mom.”
“And you’re going to be a great dad,” I assured him. “What a lucky kid. Congrats.”
“Appreciate that, bro. Maybe our baby fever will rub off on you?”
“Oh, no thanks,” I chuckled. “I’m good.”
“You never know!” Kevin replied with his trademark blind optimism. “Anyway, I wanted you to be one of the first to hear.”
“Appreciate it,” I said as I stared off into space. “Please give Sydney my love.”
The moment we hung up, I sent a message to Susan to send congratulatory flowers to them. This was the moment to focus on the joy of the announcement, not stress about the harsh realities bound to follow.
Because that was how it happened. Right when things were going well, when you got complacent with the idea that life was smooth and easy,thatwas when it blew up.
At least that was how it seemed to go for me. Like today, running into Gwen again at the airport. I’d assumed I’d never see her again, despite our incredible connection. Given the way she’d reacted to me, it probably would’ve been better not to.
And that was my exact point. It didn’t matter how perfect things had been, or how incredible a person seemed, relationships would always go to hell. It was best to move on.
So why was I stuck daydreaming about the gorgeous woman who hated everything about me?
3
GWEN
My dad and I tended to text every day in the morning on my way to work. It was a game for me, finding new, ridiculous baseball memes to make him laugh. He’d retired from playing professionally when I was a baby, but baseball was still a huge part of his life.
Too funny!He texted back in response to the meme about sports mascots break dancing that went over his head.You doing okay?
I paused outside my office building to try to find the right way to answer him. Was I okay? No, I wasn’t. Work sucked, my social life was nonexistent, and I had nothing to look forward to aside from watching my sourdough starter, Bubbles, come to life. But I couldn’t let on to my dad that I was feeling low. He’d been doing really well for the past several years, but it was an ingrained habit to keep from stressing him out.
Doing amazing!I typed back to my dad.Just had a couple of great intake meetings, one in Denver and one in Vegas. We’re about to sign that gamer who went on a rant about the geneticsuperiority of men over women. He’s an absolute dick, but it’s an incredible opportunity for me.
Truth was my bosses had insisted on signing him. The only reason I even got sent on the assignment was because the guy got a kick out of compelling a woman to schlep all the way to Vegas to fawn over him. No way would they keep me on his account.
Not that I wanted it, exactly, but it would be nice to have my boss believe even a little in my ability to do key parts of my job. Alan had no problem sticking me with the behind-the-scenes research and leg work, but they expected me to hand everything over once the client signed.
Good for you sweetie! It’s about time they started valuing your work!
I wished it were true. Damn, I missed working for bosses who actually respected my work. On the other hand, staying at my old job hadn’t been an option. It didn’t matter how valued my boss at Bryant & Keenan had made me feel. The toxic work environment thanks to one specific coworker eventually poisoned the whole place.
When are you coming to visit me? The weather in Minneapolis is perfect!
Soon, I typed before I could feel bad for lying. I had vacation days on the books, but using them was frowned upon, and I didn’t feel secure enough in my position to take the risk.
I tucked my phone in my bag and gave myself my usual pre-work pep talk, which quickly derailed when I saw a figure striding to the door.
Harrison fucking Ashford,again? Twice in one week? Was the universe trying to tell me not to leave my house?
He spotted me and slowed down, equally unhappy.
So why did my traitorous body react like I was seeing my one true love? My pulse kicked up, my palms went sweaty, and there was a flutter low in my belly that I absolutely refused to acknowledge. This was not a schoolgirl crush. This was Stockholm syndrome or temporary insanity, because there was no universe where Harrison Ashford should make me feel anything other than rage.
Still, I couldn’t ignore him; we’d both seen and acknowledged one another with a sneer. I strode over to where he was waiting by the door.
“How was Vegas?” Harrison asked.
