I forced my shoulders to ease and smiled at the little girl. Then I looked at her mother and said, “Your brother seems to think I’m unable to take care of myself. He’s been sending lunch to my desk every day.”
Erica’s head tilted. Her eyes seemed brighter than the last time I’d seen her, and she wasn’t dragging her steps quite as much. She must’ve been feeling better. Judging by her sharp gaze, she shared her brother’s perceptiveness—and it was currently focused on me. Finally, her lips curved into a smile as she shook her head. “He does that.”
“Force-feed people who don’t want it?”
“Yes,” she confirmed with a laugh. “Just be thankful he’s not making you any green smoothies.” She shuddered dramatically.
We both turned at the sound of Cal’s voice. “Excellent idea, Erica. Willa!” He called out. The new receptionist poked her head around the corner, and Cal said, “Buy a blender for the office. A good one. And one of those delivery boxes with the seasonal vegetables.”
Erica gagged theatrically.
“On it!” Willa replied.
I glared at him, and he smiled. It was the smile of a cat who had a mouse right where he wanted it. My stomach clenched.
Erica’s gaze bounced between us. She gave me an assessing stare, then stuck out her hand. “I didn’t catch your name last time.”
“Deena,” I said.
“Erica,” she replied. “I give you permission to throw any disgusting smoothie Cal makes right into his face.”
I smiled. “Wonderful idea.”
“I don’t like this,” Cal said, wagging his finger between the two of us. “Lila, let’s put that picture on the wall. Erica, step away from the angry woman. She’s unstable when she gets worked up.”
I clicked my tongue and rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped. The three of them disappeared into Cal’s office, and he threw me one last look before he closed the door. It was warm. Teasing. Made my heartbeat take off. And when I sat behind my desk and unwrapped my sandwich, I gave in to the desire to smile. I bit into the sandwich, letting out a short groan when the flavors hit my tongue. Divine.
A while later, I waved at Erica and Lila as they passed my office door on the way out, then I returned my gaze to my screen. I had to admit I loved this work. I’d enjoyed building my business, troubleshooting different processes, refining my lead generation funnel, coming up with various new efficiencies…I found it endlessly exciting tobuildsomething. So working for Cal wasn’t just a big, lifesaving paycheck and an opportunity to indulge in my attraction to him. It was fun and rewarding and challenging. It felt good to be part of something bigger, and to show off all the skills I’d spent the last eight years honing.
I worked until the sun went down, swapping over to my ownbusiness’s tasks when I was done with Cal’s. I felt alive and buzzing andgood.
Around eight o’clock, a notification popped up on my laptop: an email from Alba. I’d helped build her website when she first started her image consulting business, and I’d referred one of my more fashion-challenged clients to her to get her going. That had been fun too—helping build something for a friend. Now she emailed me from her website’s inbox with the news that she was going to dip her toe back into her image consulting business when her son turned six months old in a couple of weeks.
My answer was immediate.
DEENA
So exciting!! What do you need from me?
ALBA
Just your moral support. I wanted to check that this email still works, and it took me a full ten minutes to log in. Baby brain is no joke. If you have any spare brain cells, send them my way.
I huffed.
DEENA
I’m not sure I have many of those left these days…
ALBA
Huh?? Tell me more!
I bit my lip. One of the reasons I hadn’t told Alba about everything that was going on was because I hated being a burden. I hated feeling like I wasn’t strong enough to deal with my problems on my own, and opening up to someone else reminded me that I was struggling.
Maybe it was time for me to let go of that mindset, reach out, and ask for help. Alba had confided in me so much, and we’d grown close because of it. Would it work the same way if I told her about my bad decisions with Cal? My heart began to thump, and I felt ridiculous for it. Alba was myfriend. My best friend! Of course she would want to hear about my problems. She’d want to help me with them; she was generous and kind and funny and brilliant. Sharing everything that had happened with Cal would bring us closer together, and it would make me feel better.
So why was it so freaking scary to be vulnerable? What was I afraid of?
