“But you’ll have to ask your new boss what he expects of you. Like I said, there’s no one way to do the job.” He slid the entire notepad my direction and after a second he even handed me the pen. “There’s always something, aside from the notebook, that you should be carrying to work with you. If you’re leaving the house empty-handed, you’re fucking up. If you think you’re going to forget instructions, don’t be proud. Writeeverythingdown.” He rested his hand lightly on mine. “I’m glad you found work.”
I nodded, and he let me go. “Gotcha. How’s city hall?”
He shrugged and the smile he gave me was pained. “I miss you. You were really good when you were on point. Vane is amazing, but I liked working for you.”
My throat clogged unexpectedly, and I stood, clearing it. Mark got to his feet, too, and I went around the table. We eyed each other. “I’m really sorry. Again. You didn’t deserve the shit you got from me. You deserved better.”
He shrugged, and I was shocked when he stepped forward and gave me a tight hug. “I wanted to fix it for you,” he whispered. “Whatever was making you do the things that I knew were going to lose you your office. I wanted to help you make it better. That’s why I was on your ass all the time, telling you what to do.”
I rested my cheek against his soft curls and sighed. “You’re not to blame for my choices. And… I think the office was what needed to be fixed. I’m so much happier now.”
He stood back and gripped my shoulders. “But making your life work was supposed to be my job. You’re sure you’re happy?”
“Yeah.”
He gave my shoulders one last pat, and with a nod he walked away, shoulders stooped. I still felt bad but wasn’t sure what else I could do. “Are we still friends?”
He spun on the spot. “Absolutely.” The pain in his eyes ratcheted up my guilt another notch.
“Come have dinner with us sometime. Lane and me.”
He raised a hand in a small wave and gave me a pitiful smile. “Sure.”
“Okay,” I grumbled.
He turned and kept walking. I snatched the notebook from the table and pocketed the pen, strangely elated. I had to meet Eli in about an hour, so I probably wouldn’t go home again until after work, whatever that meant today. I couldn’t handle how excited I was… and a little sad, too. I should have done things differently at city hall, and I wished I hadn’t put my friends in a tight spot. There was a bounce in my step, however, as I took off walking toward Eli’s apartment.
It felt like one door had closed for me, and Lane had helped me blast another one wide open. I owed my Mister a lot, and I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life—or however long he would keep me—showing him how much I appreciated everything he did for me.
18
Lane
Dad and Papastayed for a week, and much to my relief, they did end up getting a hotel room. I didn’t mind having them here, but I didn’t want to make Ross uncomfortable, either. Despite what he may think, my apartment was his home, and no one should feel that way in their home. It was painfully obvious he’d been walking on eggshells around them. Dad was a lot kinder throughout the visit than he had been that first night, though, and the few times they came around for dinner, he’d pulled Ross into a conversation about politics, which was boring. Even though Dad had been the mayor of Pleasant Beach since I was a kid, I had no interest in anything to do with the office.
Seeing Dad and Papa off was both sad and a relief. I loved my parents, but sometimes they were too much. Papa always told me I’d never understand until I had a child of my own, but that wasn’t going to happen in the near future. Pet, maybe, but not a kid.
Ross’s work with Eli seemed to be going well. They hadn’t been doing much except Eli instructing Ross in the process of making a video for YouTube, or at least that was what Ross had told me. He’d opened up a lot more since he’d gotten the job, telling me about his day as soon as he got home and was in his apron and underwear, because despite being a working man now, he was still my houseboy. He arrived home earlier than me, and by the time I got to the apartment, he had dinner nearly ready every night, and some of the cleaning done, too.
Tonight was the same. I sat at the table with a beautiful home-cooked meal in front of me. The steak and vegetables were arranged artfully, though, and it looked more like I would expect from a chef.
“Has Eli been teaching you tricks?” I teased as he sat down in the chair beside me. Grabbing his hand, I raised it to my lips and kissed the back.
He grinned and leaned over to press his mouth against mine. “He wants me to get in front of the camera with him.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” I knocked my forehead gently against his and smiled. My heart was beating so rapidly I felt it in my throat as pride surged through me. “I’m so proud of you, Pookie.”
“Thank you,” Ross murmured, eyes slipping shut as he sighed. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Lane.”
My name on his lips had me shivering, and when he looked at me again, my chest squeezed in a way that had me breathless. I’d known him a little over a year, so why had my feelings changed in the last few months? What if they’d always been there and I hadn’t realized until now? The order of arrival didn’t matter anymore. We were together and I washappyandcontent, which was weird. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way. For once I wasn’t bored with life, and I didn’t want to go searching for adventure.
I kissed him gently and breathed in his scent. “Do you think you would ever talk to the media about what happened?”
He startled and frowned as he shifted away from me slightly. I grabbed him and hauled him back against me, not willing to let him retreat. “Why are you asking that question?”
“Because you deserve to tell your side.” I sighed and buried my face into his neck, kissing along his delicious skin. He shivered under my attention. “They have no right to paint you in a negative way and get away with it.”
TheNew Gothenburg Mainlinehad a recent article commenting about what Ross Midberry could possibly be doing now that he was out of prison. That asshat Neven Alexson had spoken with “experts” who felt it was their right to comment on Ross’s mental state, as though any of them understood him. They didn’t, not like I did, but I wanted them to know the real Ross, the one who I’d fallen in love with.
