He sighed, bringing his ankle to rest on his knee. He rubbed the sole of his shoe absently, and to my relief, the air between us shifted in balance as I watched him struggle with what exactly to say.
“Since we started this company without my parents’ help or money, they’ve been a little…antsy. They’ve always had a hand in everything I’ve done, and it bothered them when I cut them off. They dropped by on the pretense of seeing me, but really, it was so my dad could check out how big the company was getting, which isn’t growing as fast as he thinks it should be. I was annoyed because, apparently, they’d met with Ryan and Mike behind my back a few weeks earlier and tried to get them to talk me into accepting money from them to grow the business faster.”
That would explain Duke storming out of his office and meeting with Mike and Ryan in private.
“They turned my parents down, but they never told me about the offer. And it ticked me off.”
He leaned back in his seat again, his shoulder coming to rest against mine, where I kept it, though it became a struggle trying to focus on what he was saying.
“Do you think they wanted to take the money?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s my parents, so they aren’t in a position to accept without my approval. And they wouldn’t. I just…this is the first thing I’ve been a part of without them holding my hand. I didn’t realize how much I needed something of my own until I didn’t have their voices in my head anymore. They’ve been trying to control me for my whole life, you know? They’re always nice about it, but it’s still a manipulative move. It’s almost like they’re so concerned with making sure I’m successful that they don’t trust me to do it on my own.”
“A lawnmower parent? Isn’t that what it’s called?”
His brow furrowed. “A what?”
“A lawnmower parent. Where they potentially mow down any obstacle in their child’s life so they’ll succeed. They try to block every problem their kids might face.”
He seemed moderately stunned by this information, but I could feel the wheels turning in his head. “You might be right. How’d you know that?”
“I’ve heard of parents like that. I’ve always wanted one,” I teased.
His soft, rich chuckle settled between us. Bringing up Rachel was halfway on my tongue, but the longer we sat lost in our thoughts, staring out into the night, the more it felt like the moment had passed.
“My five minutes are up, Boss.” I stood, collecting the empty containers at my feet to throw away. The night had grown chilly in the absence of the sun. I rubbed my hands against my arms. He hesitated only a minute before picking up the rest of our garbage and walking with me toward the trash can next to the door.
Once inside the elevator, all of the things I had told him began filtering loudly through my mind. On repeat. I’d given him something I couldn’t take back. Those words would always be between us and it felt vulnerable in a way that had me sucking in a breath.
Duke punched the button before he turned to face me, leaning against the wall of the elevator with his hands in his pockets. I swallowed, feeling the pull of him even while I resisted.
“You felt like a friend. You know that, right? That’s why I told you all of that.”
His eyes shot up to mine curiously. “I am your friend.”
He stood so close. The sweet scent of his cologne tickled my nose. His gaze wandered across my face, down to my lips before roaming back up to my eyes. My breath caught. How easy it would be to take a step closer. But I didn’t. I did what I always did.
Built walls.
“Youaremy friend,” my words came out in a breathy whisper. “But you’re also my boss. It’s confusing who I’m talking to at any given moment. Tonight, you felt like a friend, but now I’m worried I said too much.”
“Nora. You’re safe with me. You know that right?” When I could only look at him in response, he added, “ You don’t have to do everything on your own. You can let people help you, you know.”
“No. That’s my whole point. I don’t want your help, and if you think I do, I’m going to cry again.”
Duke grew quiet after that, though he insisted on helping me finish my cleaning for the night. It was ten-thirty, and I didn’t have the energy to argue. We said little as we finished up, and then he walked me to my car. He waited until I was in my car driving away before striding toward his truck.
Maybe there was something internally wrong with me. Anita’s face came to my mind. Not many girls would deny themselves a chance at a man like Duke—if that was even what he was offering.
There are moments in our lives that can shape us. Define us. Make us who we are. My entire childhood had been a series of naively extending trust only to have it broken. Time and time again. My mom had been married and divorced three times before I was fifteen with countless boyfriends in between. I thought of how dangerous those years had been—so many strangers, men from all backgrounds, wandering in and out of our lives. Thankfully, my sisters and I had come out of it physically unscathed, but each time, we had been left a little more emotionally scarred. Tentatively growing attached to theideaof someone, a new husband or a new boyfriend, only to be let down again and again. Until one day we stopped growing attached. Stopped caring. No longer trusting my mom to put our best interests above the shiny lure of a new relationship.
As the oldest of my two sisters, the self-appointed burden of responsibility fell onto my shoulders, and I vowed to give them the childhood lost to me. While my mom showed up to as many basketball games and dances as she could to support her daughters, it was me who paid for their uniforms. It was me who paid for their spot on the club teams and dance competitions. I sent them to school with lunch money. At thirteen, I had begun paying a few hundred dollars a month toward rent, but as I grew older and my work hours grew longer, that amount more than doubled by the time I graduated. By some silent agreement, my mom and I fell into a pattern more suited for a married couple than mother and daughter. Though now I wondered what might have happened if I had put up a fuss, made some noise.
Either way, it was through those experiences that I began to craft a meticulous plan for my life. I wouldn’t be afraid of love, but I’d only take part when I was sure I’d never leave myself or my future children vulnerable in that way. They deserved a life where they could be kids and never worry about providing for the family. For so long my meticulous plan for my life had included depending on only one person.
Me.
Unburdening myself on Duke left me tense with immediate regret, like I’d severed myself wide open. In my experience, knowledge was power, and having power could hurt people. Intimate knowledge of someone meant a sharper sword to yield in the divorce proceedings. It meant a harsher tongue to wound and inflict acute pain in an argument.
