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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Scarlett

I’m shut away in my office, reviewing some proposals and enjoying some peace and quiet. The serenity is a welcome relief after the past few weeks we’ve had. Things are going great with Cohen. Better than great actually, although things are still a bit awkward with Piers. He’s back to work and PAN industries is making great strides, we’ve closed one of the largest deals that we've ever done, with the exception of taking over BlackHouse.

I’m in an unusual place, because my company took over Cohen’s father’s company, or at least the majority of shares. The rest of the takeover is still tied up in litigation. Piers is still leery of Cohen and sometimes I feel caught in the middle. My feelings for Cohen are strong enough, that if I had to choose, I would leave my job. It hasn’t come to that … yet.

The merger with Anderson was purely a strategic business move, while taking over BlackHouse had nothing to do with industry and everything to do with revenge. Both however were very calculated. Neither a conflict of interest, until now. Until Cohen. Until the attack.

Both deals now are now tainted for me. Piers has agreed to step in and take the lead on the Anderson account. Old man Anderson has apologized profusely over what his son did, and all charges against Cohen have been dropped. Just as you can’t blame a son for the actions of his father; you can’t blame a father for the sins of his son. We will keep the deal as planned, but I won’t have a high level of involvement.

We’re just approaching third-quarter and have already met our quota for the year. Things are finally starting to look up for all of us all, not just professionally, but personally as well. As soon as things settle down, Cohen and I are going to talk to Piers about bringing him on to assist with the London Lost expansion that I’ve been contemplating.

After thinking about how Wendy left her mark on the world, and knowing someone with a burden and a passion saved me, I want to do the same. I’m proud of the work I’ve done at PAN, but this is something I feel lead to do.

Leaning back in my chair, I study the black orchids that arrived this morning with a card that read, “They remind me of you, exotic and graceful. X, Sexy Pirate.”

My eyes remain locked on the velvet petals and my nose smells the sweet and spice filled fragrance, but my heart sees a happy couple laughing and kissing all over London, unable to keep their hands off of each other. From the top of the London Eye, to the basement clubs we danced in after our movie. I can’t wait to meet him for drinks tomorrow night when he gets home from taking care of his mother.

I hope to one day meet her but he still seems a bit private where she’s concerned and I can’t exactly complain because it’s not like I’ve got a family to take him home to. But if I did, I have the feeling this bad boy would be the kind for taking home, whether he likes to admit it or not. He comes across as dark and hard, but he’s brought such light to my life.

Cohen makes me feel a million and one things I wasn’t counting on, the most important one being, me. I feel like myself with him. The me I never show anyone. The carefree and the broken, the romantic and the vixen, all rolled into one. He’s seen me at my worst, yet he still keeps coming back for more, which is good because I’m nowhere near finished with him. A chill runs down my spine as I think about a day that I hope never comes.

“Why do you look so sad?” A small voice calls from the doorway.

Looking up I see Drew, the spitting image of his father, Piers. A mop of dark hair, an elfin nose, complete with inquisitive emerald green eyes. He studies me thoughtfully for a while and I can see the wheels turning in his mind as it stands there in his little red sneakers holding his backpack covered in planets and stars. When I don’t ask answer his question quickly enough he asks again.

“Why do you look so sad?” Drew shuffles into my office looking over his shoulder.

“I'm not sad, just a bit tired that's all." Kids really are perceptive.

“You look like you miss someone, or someplace...that kind of sad. My mum looked like that a lot before we came to London,” he shares with me.

“Yeah, I bet. it’s hard to be away from the people and places that we love the most.” I find myself replying, unsure of what to say, certain that Wendy wouldn’t want me talking to him at all.

For the first time, I think about how hard it must’ve been for Willow being in the states all by herself, going through pregnancy and childbirth alone. Guilt hangs heavy around my shoulders as I’m frozen in this surreal moment with a boy that reminds me of my own childhood, my first friend.

He walks over to my desk and takes a seat, scooting himself up in the chair directly across from mine, his little feet not touching the ground when he slides all the way back.

“So, you're the one that made my mum cry?” His face has a stern look about it and if it wasn’t for the serious tone and the weight of the question, I would’ve been fighting back a smile at his inquisition.

Oh, boy here we go. I don’t know a lot about kids, but I know how I wish I would’ve been treated, so I respond to him with honestly.

“I haven’t always been the nicest person, Drew, but I’m working on it. I’ve done a lot of mean things hurt a lot of people’s feelings, things I wish I could take back.” I stutter out the words, wishing I had a better excuse.

“I’m not upset with you, I’m just asking.” he clarifies as he fiddles with his hands in his lap.

“I understand perfectly Drew, but if I’m being honest I’m a bit cross with myself for how I’ve behaved.” I choose my words carefully, as my eyes dart to the door, fearful that any minute Piers or Willow will come barging in and assume the worst.

“Well, when I get into trouble, for leaving my toys out, or when I sass my mum, giving a hug and saying I’m sorry usually makes it all better.” he imparts his words of wisdom on me, while staring like he just gave me the keys to the kingdom. I can’t help but feel as though I’m sitting across from future of PAN Industries.

Sweet, sweet boy how I wish it were that easy.

Out of the mouths of babes...I just wish it were as simple as saying I’m sorry.

“It is.” he responds to a comment I didn’t realize I said out loud.

“At least it is in the books.” he adds, shrugging his shoulders.