Asking For A Friend

by Parker, Ali

  She was freshly showered, her hair still damp and her face completely devoid of make-up. Wearing flannel pajamas with pink and green monkeys, she looked adorable. And not at all ready to come to work. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  She shrugged, regret flashing in her eyes. It was gone before I could ask about it, though. “I called human resources a couple of minutes ago. I’m taking a personal day.”

  “What?” My eyebrows pushed together so hard I didn’t think all the hair would be in the same place when I finally didn’t have a furrowed brow anymore. “Why didn’t you just call me?”

  “I was going to,” she started, but then trailed off. She looked listless, heartbroken even—which broke my heart in turn. What the fuck had happened? “I thought calling HR was best. They run the systems anyway. It’s better to let them know. Saves you from having to log my personal day with them.”

  “Yeah, maybe for everyone else. What’s going on here, Marissa?” Her eyes looked hollow, haunted even. “What am I missing?”

  Sighing deeply, she stepped aside. “I’m not having this discussion with you on my porch. Annie and Denise went out to collect stuff from Annie’s school. They’re having a market day soon and they’re giving the kids the day to sort out their stalls.”

  “That’s nice of them,” I commented, stepping into the warm entrance hall. “I don’t think they did that when I was a kid.”

  “They didn’t,” she said listlessly, giving me another shrug. “I guess some of the parents complained about the kids having to organize everything while still focusing on school work, so they decided to give them time off for it. You’re not here because of Annie’s market day, though.”

  “No, but I’ll help you plan for it if you want me to,” I offered, half hoping this would solve whatever problem I didn’t know we’d been having. Maybe she really did just want to be there for Annie. I doubted it was that, Denise seemed perfectly capable of handling that kind of thing by herself, but a guy could hope.

  “We’re fine,” she replied. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get it sorted.”

  “Okay, so what’s going on then?” Trepidation coursed through me. There was definitely something wrong. “When I woke up this morning, you were gone. Did I do something wrong?”

  Sighing deeply, Marissa crossed her arms and averted her eyes. “No. I just—I don’t even know how to ask you this.”

  Stepping forward, I gently took her hands and pried them away from her, holding them between us. “You can ask me anything.”

  “After we watched that video last night, I started thinking.” The dread I felt earlier came back with a vengeance. That stupid fucking video. I knew showing her was going to turn out to be a mistake, but since it had been made, I had to do what I could to fix it.

  Marissa cleared her throat, looking uncomfortable as she continued. “Do you think your dad only wanted me to work for you because I was good for business? Is that what you think? What are you and I really doing here?”

  My head jerked back. Of everything I was expecting, that had never even crossed my mind. “No, that is definitely, absolutely not what I think. Do you really think I would be with you purely because you’re good for my business?”

  It was ludicrous, absurd really. Had I given her the impression I was sleeping with her so she would hang around and keep working for the company. “I would never do that, Marissa.”

  She shrugged half-heartedly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’ve never talked about what’s going on between us or how we feel about each other. It has never really made sense to me why you are the way you are with me. I guess that explanation just helps me understand.”

  Frowning deeply, I tugged her forward by her hands and put my arms around her waist. “Why did it never make sense to you? You are gorgeous, Marissa. You’re smart and funny and a breath of fresh air to me. You’re so sexy you literally make me hurt. Trust me, business is the last thing on my mind when it comes to you. Always has been.”

  “Really?” Hope sparked in her eyes and her locked shoulders relaxed some. “Are you being honest? I suppose you wouldn’t tell me if you weren’t, I just—”

  “I’m being one hundred and ten percent honest with you,” I promised. “I wanted you from the moment I first saw you. At first, it was only lust—plain and simple. But when I got to know you, I realized there was so much more to you than just the way you look.”

  “What are you saying?” Why did she look almost afraid to hear the next part? In the back of my mind, Craig’s words came back to me. I was going to have to find out what put that fear in her eyes, but it wasn’t the right time.

  Instead, I took a deep breath and made sure I looked squarely into her eyes when I said what I needed to say. “I care about you, Marissa. A lot. For reasons that have nothing to do with work and everything to do with you and who you are. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck if my dad only wanted you with me because he thought you would be good for my business. That’s his deal, not mine. But I want you with me because you’re you. If you wanted to stop working for me tomorrow, hell if you wanted to resign today, I would still want you.”

  A reluctant smile lifted the corners of her lips. “That was kind of beautiful. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “Only for you,” I sighed as if it pained me deeply, but planted a chaste kiss on her lips before pulling back to meet her eyes again. “We good?”

  She held my gaze for a long minute, tilting her head to search for something deep inside me. When she finally answered, my heart nearly leaped out of my chest. “We’re good. I’m sorry if I was being silly. The thought was just really bugging me.”

  “That’s okay,” I tightened my hold on her and drew her to me, burying my nose in her hair. “That video messed me up a little too. Next time, just talk to me, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, as she looped her arms around my neck and finally held me too.

  We stayed that way for a while, locked in an embrace that washed away all the hurt and fear of the morning. When we finally separated, Marissa’s eyes were misty. “I guess I should go get ready for work, huh?”

  “I thought you spoke to HR.”

  She gave me a small smile. “I sent them an e-mail explaining that I wasn’t coming in, but I hadn’t actually heard back from them yet.”

  “I’ll talk to them,” I said. “Take the day off anyway, help Annie with her market day and spend some time with her. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Thank you.”

  Feeling a hundred times better than when I arrived at her house, I left to go back to the office, satisfied that everything with Marissa was, once again, okay.

  Chapter 45

  Marissa

  Denise and Annie were at Annie’s school collecting some things for the market day the kids would be hosting soon. After Layton left, I dragged myself out of the hole I’d been wallowing in all morning and headed over there to meet them.

  I had tossed and turned for hours after Layton had fallen asleep last night, but I was unable to get that nasty, nagging thought out of my head. Eventually, I was feeling as cheap as a girl who was sleeping with her boss, when all he wanted was to keep her around for the business.

  The feeling very nearly broke my heart, since things usually felt so right with him. I couldn’t get over it though. I was suddenly not a woman sleeping next to a man who liked her and had more than worshiped her just hours before, but an employee lying next to her sated boss.

  My entire outlook on our situation changed and became ugly. As if the walls were closing in on me, I felt like I couldn’t breathe in his room anymore. Desperate for oxygen in my lungs, I quietly got up and dressed, then shot out of there as fast as I could.

  I drove around for hours, trying to tilt the world back on its proper axis, but I couldn’t manage it. Replaying every moment I’d ever had with Layton, I saw everything so differently. As lecherous and wrong of me, as a girl who had been afraid
for her job because she was so desperate to keep it that she slept with her boss.

  None of it was true, and I knew that, but I couldn’t help imagining that was exactly how it probably looked to anyone on the outside. It was probably what it would have looked like to Mr. Bridges himself if he’d only pointed Layton in my direction for professional purposes.

  I only got a couple of hours of sleep before Denise called to tell me that she and Annie were on their way to the school. Dragging my sorry ass through a shower, I planned on getting my head on straight before joining them there.

  The knock on my door when Layton arrived was unexpected and not entirely welcomed. I’d been in the middle of making my third cup of coffee when I went to see who was there. When I saw it was him, I debated about pretending not to be home but eventually decided against it.

  Opening the door, I had this feeling in my gut that we were about to officially end things. The thought hurt like a bitch, but I figured it was better to get it over and done with. Being a big girl and all that.

  Now, it felt like those feelings had passed through me a hundred years ago for how elated I was after he left. The things he said to me and the way he said it, the look in his eyes when he arrived and again when he was telling me how he felt, none of those things lied.

  Layton cared about me. Really. Not because of his dad and not because of his business. Because of me. It was a novel thought, but it made me feel good to know I hadn’t made a mistake with him.

  By the time I left the house to go to Annie’s school, I was practically walking on sunshine. It was a drastic turnaround from where I’d been only hours before. But it made me appreciate the way I was feeling now so much more.

  Annie was in her classroom when I arrived, Denise waiting in her car outside. The kids were here for a couple of classes, to collect things and to get a briefing about the rules of the market day.

  It wasn’t an important day academically, and since Layton gave me the day off to spend some time with Annie, I had every intention of actually spending time with her.

  After explaining to her teacher that I was pulling her out early, Annie took my hand with an excited smile and followed me out of school. She chatted happily all the way to my car, overjoyed to be out of school early for once.

  “They gave us the rules for the market day early this morning, Mommy. We’re not allowed to sell anything with fire or peanuts.”

  “Fire or peanuts?” I frowned, hoping the kids had received some kind of document giving the guidelines for the day. Fire and peanuts couldn’t possibly be the only prohibited items. Also, what a random mix of things for Annie to remember.

  “In art this morning, the teacher said we had to draw our families doing something we loved to do together,” she continued, leaving the market day rules behind for now. I made a mental note to check her bag for an informational leaflet on it later. “I have my picture. I’ll show it to you when we get home.”

  “What did you draw?” I asked, distracted by the events of the morning as well as planning for the market day. Denise and I talked quickly outside the school. She was going to meet us at home later so we could plan, but I would have to come up with a couple of ideas before then.

  “Me and you, and Layton,” Annie said matter-of-factly, causing every other thought in my head to come to a screeching halt.

  “You drew Layton as a part of our family?” I asked, worry seeping into my tone.

  Annie shrugged, “It’s just a picture of us spending time together.”

  Damn it. Annie seeing Layton as a male figure in her life was one thing. I’d resigned myself to that happening the day they met; but Annie seeing him as a father figure was something different entirely.

  Especially since my relationship with Layton was so new in many ways. It had only been a few months in all, so it was way too early for her to be imagining him as her father. If she did and it didn’t work out between us, it would be so much worse than simply losing a male friend we used to spend some time with.

  Unsure of how to handle this latest development, I said gently, “Sweetheart, it’s nice that you drew the picture of Layton spending time with us, but you he’s not your father, right? He’s not part of our family.”

  She nodded, and thankfully there was no sadness in her expression. “I know.”

  “Why did you draw him with us then? Why not draw Denise?” I probed, wanting to get into her head. I needed to understand what she was thinking before I could figure out what to do about it.

  Annie pursed her lips in thought. “I didn’t really think about it. The teacher said to draw your family doing something you love together and I loved fishing with you and Layton, so I drew that.”

  Giving her a sidelong glance, I pulled up outside our house. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. I just don’t want you to get confused, honey. You have to remember that he’s not your dad.”

  “I know,” she said, hopping out of the car and waiting for me to unlock the door before dropping her bag in the entrance hall and walking with me to the kitchen. “I wish he was my father, but I know he’s not.”

  Her words were like a shot through my heart. If I thought the emotionally distraught part of the day was over, I was wrong. If Layton had been Annie’s dad, he wouldn’t have been with us anymore. On the other hand, if he was a fraction of the dad Annie never had and he was her father, he might have taken her fishing every weekend.

  It wasn’t hard for me to imagine Layton as a dad, which caused another pang to my gut. Whatever happened between us, he wasn’t Annie’s father and I didn’t know if he would ever be willing to truly take on that role in her life.

  It worried me that she saw him as a father figure when I didn’t even know where she stood with him. He certainly seemed to care about her. Whenever they’d been together, they’d had fun. When he called earlier and thought I left his apartment because something might be wrong with her, he sounded genuinely anxious and agitated.

  But none of those things amounted to the man being ready to step into the shoes of a father to another man’s daughter. I knew how Layton felt about me now, but I still had no idea how he felt about Annie.

  Getting ham, cheese and lettuce out of the fridge to make Annie a sandwich, I kept the corner of my eye on her as I assembled it. Despite the seriousness of the conversation we were having, she didn’t seem sad or disillusioned.

  If anything, she seemed happy. And if she was happy, surely I should stop worrying. It wouldn’t get me anywhere. I didn’t want to discourage her from having a relationship with Layton, despite my worries about her confusion about his role in her life.

  The reality was that he was good to her and good for her. When she told me she knew he wasn’t her dad but wished he was, there didn’t seem to be any confusion on her part. In fact, the only reason I thought she was confused about his role was because of the picture which she had now gone to retrieve from her bag.

  And hadn’t she explained why she drew him with us even when he wasn’t her father? The way she saw it, she drew something she loved doing and he happened to be the one who was there doing it with us.

  Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to relax. Annie was happy, Layton was happy and I would’ve been lying if I said I wasn’t. I wasn’t going to ruin that happiness by doing something rash like freezing Layton out of our lives again just because I was a little bit worried.

  I vowed to myself that I would be careful with the two of them, but I wasn’t going to do anything to ruin it. What I thought before about a male figure in her life being good for Annie still applied, I was holding on to that.

  “Here it is, Mommy,” Annie proclaimed, setting the sheet of paper down in front of me. For a drawing that had inspired such panic in me, it was remarkably innocent.

  It really was just a picture of crayon versions of Layton, Annie and I standing next to a blue pond. We were each holding a fishing rod and there was a basket of fish on green grass next to us.

  “That’s beautifu
l, honey. We’ll have to go again sometime.” I told her, sliding the plate with the sandwich in front of her and filling a glass with water. She munched happily on her snack and I took a second just to watch her.

  She was so strong, and so resilient. I had to trust that she was being honest with me about why she drew Layton into that picture and that she knew who he was to us. Wrapping my arms around her narrow shoulders, I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “No matter what happens, baby. I’ll always be your mother.”

  Chapter 46

  Layton

  On Friday afternoon, I took Marissa out to lunch. We were at a small Mexican restaurant near the office, bundled up in a booth in the back corner. It was below freezing outside again today and we managed to snag a booth near the roaring fireplace.

  The restaurant was decorated in rich colors and dark brown wood. A Mexican flag hung above the bar and it smelled like tortillas and spice.

  Marissa had shrugged out of her black coat and was wearing red jeans, black boots and a fitted black shirt with her usual array of jewelry. She was snuggled under my arm in the back of the booth, smiling and raving about the plate of tacos we’d just demolished.

  “That was incredible,” she told me, staring wistfully at the empty plate in front of us.

  “We have another order on the way,” I reminded her and was rewarded by a bright smile.

  “How could I forget?” She buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “That’s the best news I’ve had all day.”

  “What about the news we got on the Linderman account?” I teased, knowing that Mrs. Linderman tended to annoy Marissa to no end.

  She glared at me. “There’s no comparing those two pieces of information. These tacos make me happy. Mrs. Linderman makes me feel like there’s no more happiness in the world.”