The Seasons of Callan Reed: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance

by S. M. Soto

  “Monday morning.”

  I choke. “That’s not next week. That’s literally a day away!”

  “Technically, it is next week.”

  His playful tone isn’t working for me. This whole conversation isn’t working for me. “Did I do something wrong? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He sobers. Sliding his hand around the back of my neck, he drags me toward him, our mouths mere inches apart.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Daisy. For once, I’m trying to be a decent boss and give you a break. Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Yes.” He cocks a brow, and I shake my head. “Well, no. I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me.”

  He lifts his shoulder noncommittally. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  “Of course, it matters. I would like to know when you’re flying out or leaving, not just because I’m your assistant, but because I’m actively sleeping with you. I would think I have a right to know.”

  He grins at that and presses his lips against mine, shutting me up. “You do. I didn’t tell you because it’s not a big deal. It’s just a few days, I promise.”

  I jut my bottom lip out, pouting. “Well, it’s a big deal to me.”

  “Is that your way of telling me you’re going to miss me while I’m gone?”

  I slug him on the arm, fighting a grin, wanting to stay mad at him. “You know I will. I’m not the only one either. She’ll miss you, too.”

  Callan glances down at Faith, and his lips twist into a warm smile. “Good.”

  Leaning in, he presses a kiss against my lips that takes my breath away, and if that wasn’t enough, he leans down, picking up one of Faith’s chunky hands, and presses a kiss there, too.

  My chest bursts with glitter. It’s airy and light as it filters through my rib cage, and for the rest of the day, I wear a warm smile on my face, quite possibly feeling the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.

  From my perch along the wall, I watch them together. There’s this ball of fire in my chest. It burns with each inhale, each time I hear Daisy’s laugh or Faith’s squealing. The weather has only been getting warmer and warmer, so earlier, I suggested Daisy take advantage of the private pool with Faith.

  That’s where they are now, in the water, soaking up the sun, both of them looking like two of the most beautiful women on the planet. Daisy has Faith secured against her chest in the shallow end, dipping her in, letting her get a feel for the water. It’s no surprise Faith loves it. Bath time is generally the only time she isn’t crying.

  They’re both in their element.

  And I soak in every fucking second. Committing it all to memory.

  As if sensing my presence, Daisy spins in the water, facing me. A wide grin spreads across her face when she sees me. That’s the thing about her smile—it transforms her entire face. Daisy could change the whole damn world with her smile alone. It starts on one end of her face and usually spreads like gasoline on a fire. It’s contagious. She’s a goddamn beautiful poison. She always has been.

  I realize that burning sensation in my chest is love.

  It’s the kind of love that threatens to destroy you, set fire to every vital organ. And that’s what Daisy is doing to me. She’s setting wildfires in my goddamn chest.

  When she told me she loved me, it was one of the single greatest moments in my life. I’d always known how she felt about me, but to hear her admit it aloud, to have her actually confess it to me? It was different. It felt different.

  I don’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love Daisy Casillas. She was one of those girls, the ones who came into your life like a wrecking ball, a fucking force of nature. I never had any say in whether I’d love her. Somehow, it always felt like my love for her was written in the stars.

  Despite all that, I’ve been struggling with how to tell her I love her. For whatever reason, the words won’t fall from my tongue, no matter how hard I try. It’s not because I don’t mean them. It’s because I want it to be perfect. She deserves the best, and most days, a simple “I love you” doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Not even close.

  What I feel for this woman is more than an “I love you.” It’s more than words.

  “You getting in?” she calls out, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I cross my arms over my chest, smirking at her. “I’m enjoying the view just fine.”

  Her lips twist with amusement, coffee eyes glittering with happiness. “You sure about that, Mr. Reed? You’re looking a little sweaty, even from here.”

  I chuckle. She’s not wrong. It’s hot as fuck.

  Pushing off the wall, I head toward her and Faith, dropping to my haunches right next to her at the edge of the pool. Unable to help myself, I reach out, cupping her cheek, grazing her plump bottom lip with my thumb.

  “I love you.”

  She says those three words again, and Jesus fucking Christ, I feel them pierce my heart. That ball of fire grows hotter.

  Every day, every moment, babe.

  Closing the distance, I press my lips against hers and kiss her. I savor her taste, the way her plump lips work against mine so perfectly.

  “Do you really have to go?” She pouts, referring to my trip tomorrow.

  I nod, pressing another kiss to her lips. “It’ll be quick. I promise.”

  “Be safe, okay?” Her long lashes that encase her eyes flutter as though she’s holding back tears.

  “Always,” I breathe against her mouth.

  I won’t be gone long, and when I get back, things will be different.

  For all of us.

  My nose scrunches up in disdain as I take in the filthy lawn. That’s not even the worst part. The house before me is in shambles. Based on the lack of light filtering in through the windows, I’d say the man inside hasn’t opened the blinds or curtains in months, let alone ventured outside. From my vantage point, everything inside looks dark, like the home has been vacant when, in fact, I know it hasn’t.

  We usually keep our discussions to a minimum, usually a brief phone call, but today that is changing. This is the last time he’ll disappoint his daughter.

  I ring the doorbell, waiting patiently on the stoop. The man who answers looks so far gone, nothing like the man I remember from when we were kids. He’s certainly nothing like the man Daisy looked up to her entire childhood.

  “Mr. Casillas,” I greet coldly.

  He frowns, dark brows pinching together in confusion. “Callan?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Oh, right. Come in.” He moves aside, allowing me to enter. I take in the home, a tightness gripping my chest. It’s worse than I thought. Everything I’ve done over the years rests heavily in the pit of my stomach. I thought I was helping, but as I look around, I realize how wrong I was. I wasn’t helping him at all.

  After my parents told me he wasn’t taking the death of his wife well, I took it upon myself to help him because that, in turn, meant I was helping Daisy. It’s glaringly obvious I was only making things worse, enabling this broken man and his behavior.

  I look around, taking in the scattered dirty dishes. An empty pizza box litters his coffee table, dirty clothes strewn about, and the curdling smell of something moldy. He’s an absolute mess.

  His shirt is dirty, the neck stretched like he spent hours tugging at it, and his beard is the longest I’ve seen it in, well, ever.

  “Nice place.” There’s no mistaking the sarcasm in my tone.

  Eyes identical to his daughter’s light up in anger. It’s the first ounce of emotion he’s shown in years.

  He scoffs. “Still an asshole, I see.”

  “Still haven’t cleaned your shit up, I see.”

  “I lost my wife,” he grits as though it’s a viable excuse, even years later.

  “And your daughter lost a father.”

  He looks away, guilt written all over his face.

  “You have the whole damn world at your fingertips. You care for no one but yourself. Wh
at the hell do you know about my loss, boy?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek. I may not know the loss he’s endured, the loss of a wife, but I understand it. I lost Daisy thirteen years ago, and I gave up hope that I’d ever get her back. I lost her to another man. Somehow that’s worse, knowing the woman you love is in love with another man. It’s a soul-crushing realization that you won’t be the one waking up to her every day. You won’t be the one starting a family with her, and you most certainly won’t be the one who puts a smile on her face every day. That will be the job of someone else.

  It’s an agonizing feeling, being in love with someone who can never love you back.

  “She’s the only person I do care about. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t give a shit. I wouldn’t have been taking care of your ass for the past five years.”

  “Why do you care, anyway? Why the hell do you care what happens to me?”

  “I care about you because you’re Daisy’s father, and you having no relationship with her is hurting her. She feels like she has no one. So you need to be a man and get your shit together before you lose her forever.”

  “Why now? You’ve spent years making her life miserable. She hated you, you know. You think you can come in here now like a knight in shining armor and erase all the shitty things you’ve done?”

  “That doesn’t matter. Things are different.”

  He chuckles darkly. “It doesn’t matter? We both know the only reason you treated her like shit was because you knew you couldn’t have her. You knew she was too good for you. You’ve cared about Daisy her entire life and are just now realizing it. Maybe I’m not the only coward in here.”

  My hands curl into fists.

  He’s right. I was a coward when it came to Daisy, but it was because I was afraid to let myself love her. I always knew she was too good for me. She was beautiful inside and out, and I wasn’t. She was pure, and I was just a punk. We wanted different things out of life. She loved the California sun, and I had a scholarship waiting on the opposite coast.

  “I’ve loved her my whole life. I did what was best for her.”

  “And what do you think I’m doing, Callan? You think I’m of any good to my daughter like this? She’s better off without me, just like she’s better off without you.”

  “She thinks you don’t love her. You know that, right?”

  “Does she know you love her?” he retorts.

  “Ignorance is bliss, and in Daisy’s case, she doesn’t need to know the truth.”

  “And what is the truth, Callan?”

  “The truth is, I don’t deserve her. I never have. Hell, no man on this earth deserves that woman, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying, and neither should you.”

  As if arguing with me has taken all the fight out of him, Victor collapses on his couch, and I get a whiff of his stale body odor.

  Christ.

  He glances up at me, pain flashing in his eyes. “You really do love her, don’t you?”

  “I do. So what you’re going to do is clean your shit up and be a father to your daughter again.”

  “I don’t even know where to start,” he whispers.

  My lips turn down into a grimace. “You can start with a shower.”

  After leaving Victor’s place, I hop on my last flight of the day to pay one last visit to a friend in SoCal. I pause just outside of the art gallery. The streets are milling with tourists, out experiencing the art district in LA.

  Through the glass windows, I spot the person I came here to see and push my way inside.

  “Well, well, well, the infamous Callan Reed. I didn’t think you’d ever step foot in California again,” Emma, an old friend from college, hollers as soon as I step through her gallery doors. I can’t help but smirk.

  “Had some quick business to handle, and I wanted to make sure everything is on track for next weekend.”

  She grins, excitement blooming in her gaze. “It is. I fly back out this weekend, and I’ll start getting the studio ready for the showing. I am… God, the pieces you sent me were incredible, Callan. Whoever this artist is, he’s incredible.”

  Pride swells in my chest. “It’s a woman.”

  She cocks a brow, not even bothering to hide her smile. “A woman? Do I smell a story here?”

  “If all goes well, you’ll meet her at the gallery opening. You can find your story then.”

  She sighs, as though waiting is such a hardship. “She must be something special if she has you shopping around her work for her.”

  I shrug. “She’s worth it.”

  “Does she know yet? That her work is being featured in the show?”

  I tuck my hands into my pockets, trying to ignore the way they grow clammy at the thought of Daisy finding out and not being happy. She’s always been incredibly talented, and even though she’s gone years without practice, it just shows what a natural she is because every piece she creates is magic. It’s beauty to the untrained eye. And I’ve saved every single one.

  I purposely kept the first for myself, but the rest? The others she’s thrown out with no intention of keeping, I’ve had the doorman save them all. I’ve always known she was destined for greatness, and I won’t stop until she gets there. Until she reaches the peak of her potential.

  Wasting her time being my assistant just won’t work. With the hours I’ll need her to put in, it doesn’t make sense for her or for Faith, and it’s unfair. Even though she’s the most competent assistant I’ve ever had, it’s time I help her move on to greener pastures.

  There’s no telling how she’ll take the news. She’ll either be really happy or really upset about it. I’m hoping for the former.

  “Not yet,” I admit. “Still haven’t quite worked out how to tell her, so I’m just going to surprise her and hope she’s not angry.”

  “She’d have to be an idiot to be angry with you for doing this for her. This gallery showing is going to change her life, Callan. I have investors calling and emailing left and right after I showed a small preview. I feel good about this one.”

  I grin. “Good.”

  Today has been the day from hell, and it’s only approximately three in the afternoon. Faith has been fussy and irritable ever since Callan left on his trip. Now, every time he leaves for work, she cries, as though she’ll never see him again. The same happens when I have to leave her with the sitter. It breaks my heart all over again.

  She shouldn’t still be this clingy and heartbroken over the thought of one of us leaving, should she?

  It turns out, yes.

  Since Callan left this morning to run errands, she’s been screaming her head off. It’s Saturday, so I’m not exactly sure what errands he has to run, but I don’t want to question him any more than I already have. Why, you may ask? Because he hasn’t given me a straight answer all week.

  When I asked about the potential site he went to visit, he brushed me off. Normally, he’s pretty open about work-related sites or projects he’s working on. I just didn’t understand what was so important that he felt the need to keep it from me. I couldn’t escape this pit deep in my gut, the one telling me that something was off.

  He’s lying about something. I just don’t know what.

  Idly, I wonder if it’s because I told him I loved him. Could I have spooked him, and that’s why he’s avoiding me?

  My phone blares to life, blending with my daughter’s cry. With a screaming Faith in my arms, I answer the phone, out of breath.

  “Hello?”

  “Daisy, sweetie, is everything okay over there?”

  I tense at the sound of the voice. Not because I dislike the woman or anything, but because she reminds me a lot of her son. Gail, Dean’s mother, calls every so often to set up playdates with her granddaughter. When I moved out here, it worked out in all our favors. For the past six or seven years, she and her husband have been living in Malverne, so it made the move with Faith all that easier.

  Just hearing her voice reminds me of what today is
. I completely forgot.

  “Yes.” I sigh. “I’m so sorry, Gail. Everything is fine. Faith has just been a little fussy today.”

  “Oh, no. Do we need a rain check?”

  “No! Of course not. I’m going to get her cleaned up and fed, maybe give her a bath to calm her down before I head over with her.”

  “Sounds good, sweetheart. We’ll see you then.”

  After hanging up with Gail, I run around the penthouse like a madwoman. After feeding and changing her don’t work, I try the bath, which calms her down slightly but not nearly enough. Feeling frazzled and off-kilter by her piercing cries, I take out my phone to call Callan and ask for help. There’s already a message there from him waiting that came in about two hours ago. I’m about to swipe open to respond, but my hands are slippery from the bath water, and my phone tumbles straight into the water.

  “’No, no, no!” I hiss, yanking it out of the water. I frantically tap at the screen, and sure enough, it’s fried. Dead. Completely useless.

  I blow out a deep sigh and tell myself it’s fine. I can handle this.

  About an hour later, I’m finishing up getting Faith’s diaper bag ready when I hear the elevator ding. I breathe a sigh of relief, realizing it’s Callan. Though, when the doors slide open, I’m not prepared for the glare aimed my way.

  He steps out of the elevator, the muscle in his jaw taut with frustration. “Where the hell is your phone, Daisy? I’ve been calling you for hours.”

  I wince. “God, I’m so sorry, Callan. It slipped and fell into the bath earlier. Faith has been crying all day, and I’ve just been a mess.” It takes me a few seconds to gather my bearings and take in what he’s wearing. My brows pull in, confusion flitting across my face. “Wait, what are you wearing?”

  His jaw pulses with frustration. “What are you wearing? I said you needed to be ready by five.”

  “Ready for what?” I rack my brain, trying to remember him telling me to be ready for anything before he left, but he didn’t. And certainly, I would’ve remembered if it was something suit and tie worthy. Hell, he’s dressed like he’s about to hit a red carpet, just like the night we went to the awards ceremony.