One Little Letter: A Bad Boy, Second Chance Romance (Office Escapades Book 1)
Page 45
“Oh,” she said, her voice quivering. “Oh, I see. You wanted to spare you, tell me when you got ready and you could handle it; like with everything else you wanted to have it figured out first.”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
Daphne grabbed her plate and headed toward the kitchen with Angela quickly in tow. She stepped into the kitchen and put all her force in behind slamming her plate into the sink hard enough for shards of ceramic, rice pilaf, and what was left of the red snapper to fly up in the air.
Angela winced, shielding her face then quickly looked to see were more things about to start flying across the tiny kitchen apartment. Instead of being hit in the soaring cookware or utensils, she was bombarded with every shrill bit of rage, in the form of accusations and broken trust.
“Two weeks! Just like that. You know what, I knew it. You’ve almost been keeping me distracted like a little pet the past few days, being extra loving and trying to buy me things and I definitely picked up on it when you weren’t asking me to do as much for you at the office. Like some little caged up parrot who you talk to and I squawk back every now and then, but you shut me up with sex and gifts and expensive lunches! You were planning flights, and crossing off the things you didn’t want any of us to know yet. Weren’t you?!”
Angela stood there like a statue. What could she say? It was true, mostly. But, not entirely. It had been a long time since she had cared about anyone, and especially be able to confide in anyone. To have that was something she was afraid to reach for years, out of fear of neglecting it or even destroying it. So, to hear that despite her affection or attention, her caring and her time spent, she had left Daphne feeling neglected and pacified was painful on so many levels.
Yes, she should have told her about the timeline being moved up quite a bit. Or even more so, let her know that it wasn’t just her leaving it in Daphne’s hands to make a choice to leave with her, but how deeply she wanted her to make that choice. Failure hadn’t been an option for her for the past twenty or more years, and now it was it all she could feel.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, Daph. I was looking out for my feelings, but yours too.” Her heart was in her throat now, and everything in Angela wanted to run. She also hadn’t cried in front of anyone in over twenty years. But, this conversation was going to happen either now, or two weeks from now.
“I just…I just wanted more time, with you, with myself. I still want that time, but I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Daphne now leaned on the edge of the kitchen sink, facing away from someone she now considered a betrayer. Had Angela listened carefully, she could have heard every single tear fall from Daphne’s face to the sink. Every plunk of every drop was like a weight on her chest, pulling her lower and lower the longer she stood there. Suddenly, she realized this was beginning to sound more and more like a goodbye.
For Angela, the words were all just coming out wrong, and although she could tell, she couldn’t find the way to undo what they both were feeling. The fell silent as she watched the first person she had felt anything for in such a long turn around to face her.
“Angela, I just wanted you to tell me I was not some new thing you had earned in your career. And here I am feeling like just another stepping stone, someone or something that was expendable. The fact you even want to leave all that you’ve built up is still amazing to me. It’s like you just want to get out while you can, and I’m not like that. Maybe, it’s a difference in our ages. Perhaps, it's a fact I’m still trying to find my path to blaze through life. But, I…”.
The pause. The inevitable pause of rejection, Angela thought to herself. It was the pause she had hope for three weeks ago in the dining room after that first kiss. The ‘no’ that doesn’t hurt so bad, because it didn’t have time to grow roots and thorns. It was coming now. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“I’m done, Angela. I’m done. No more flying high on love and pipe dreams and wild nights rolling covers, or throwing caution to wind that we may get found out by this person or that one. I’m done.”
Angela didn’t show it, but as she stood there amidst food and plate fragments strode all over the floor, her heart crumbled at her feet as well. Nonetheless, she was determined not to cry. Not now. Not after Daphne clipped her wings like that. She didn’t just end things between them, but nearly mocked it all at once. This was the first time in a long time she felt like a fool. Flying high on love and pipe dreams, indeed. Alright. Ok. Back to the status quo, we go Angela had decided. She didn’t run a finger across her bangs and cleared her throat.
“You can start getting your things out the office first thing Monday. I’ll be sure to have your stuff sectioned off to one side as I get my stuff boxed up.” And with that said, she was all out of words. What was there left to say after all?
The two watched the eyes of the other from across the kitchen. Daphne was now leaned up against the sink, her arms folded across her chest, her cheeks red and tear dampened. Angela, on the other hand, had composed herself enough to simply take a deep breath, exhale, turn and go to get her purse off the couch.
Then, as Daphne stood there looking toward her living room, she heard the door shut, and slid down to the floor.
There she sat, her knees curled to her chest crying harder than she could recall in years. This purging of heartache and loss always left her in this very sitting position, turned inward, and withholding all her light from the cold outside world. It had been since she had found herself here, and like before she could only hope her neighbors couldn’t hear her.
Chapter Five
The following week everyone down at the agency was gathering up their things and having the occasional time to reminisce amongst themselves on all the good and bad experiences they’d had working there. Who started when; nights out at the bar that left everything hungover at work the next day; nightmare properties and dream clients. Even Angela in those few days got in on conversations.
She told several of them what it actually meant to her over the years to have them alongside her. Two agents had been with her almost from the time the doors opened, and she went out of her way to give them a parting gift besides the bonus that would be on everyone’s last check. Of course, many of them asked about Daphne, since they haven’t seen her. Angela only stated that she hadn’t been feeling well, but would go by to check on her at the end of the week.
What she didn’t tell them was she had every intention of packing up Daphne’s things in the office for her and taking them to her apartment. That is if she didn’t come to get them herself. Monday went by. Then, Wednesday.
By Friday, Angela had gotten the point Daphne was making by not only coming to get her office supplies and desk trinkets but by ignoring her calls and messages concerning getting her things. Unbeknownst to Angela, every news for Daphne was like a feeling of being dismissed as another one of her miscreant former employees who quit and needed to come get their crap. It may sound childish, but she wanted to see an “I miss you” or “can we talk” message.
She never answered her question that night at dinner. Was she just another assistant that was used, and then dropped like a hot rock for Angela’s next phase of operation “free bird”? That was the name they had coined together for her retirement into vacation living. Was their affair just that, an affair? Some whimsical thing for her now former employer to do to pass the time until she was leaving? She never got an answer, and it had been eating away at her for nearly a week now. Part of what aggravated her most was thinking how Angela had a point. She hadn’t thought about what to do with the agency.
Even this past week, she had laid around in her pajamas, binged watch her favorite series, eating dry cereal straight from the box; she had done nothing to look for a job. Nothing. Although her last check and attached bonus would be more than enough to cover one more month of rent, she still had other expenses, and no income coming in after the month of October. She had already made up her mind to pawn or sell some
of the things Angela had given her, but what about after that? Her thoughts were all of over the place, along with her feelings.
Laying there on the couch, curled up in her favorite blanket, a knock comes on the door disrupting her pity party. And there on the other side was the last (and only) person she wanted to see. Not seeing Angela’s face for a week was like seeing her face for the first time again. She wore her red London Fog trench coat, which was always Daphne’s favorite on her since the weather turned chilly nearly a month ago. It was not long after that rainy day that she got to see all the array of coats, hats, and scarves in Angela’s walk in closet. She also got to have a few. No more of that. No more buying your time she thought to herself as she stood in the door.
“My box?” She looked down at the medium sized box in her ex lover's hands.
“Yep. I was going to call before I showed up but you haven’t been answering. I just decided to bring it by.”
“Thanks,” Daphne said, as she took the box and placed it on an end table.
They stood in awkward silence, and then Angela took a step back. Looking down at the ground and back up at Daphne, she was not the woman she was when they first met. At the office, she had grown a greater appreciation for not just Daphne’s presence there, but everyone who showed up each day, even Chris.
“The other’s down at the agency asked about you. I told them you weren’t feeling well, but would come check on you and give you their best wishes. So, are you ok?” Daphne wasn’t new to small talk, but she didn’t ever like it.
“I'm all right.” Angela grinned slightly.
“Good. I’ll let them know.”
She turned to make her way back down the stairwell, almost hoping for Daphne to say anything to stop her. Anything. There was nothing but the echo of her apartment done shutting. Gently shutting was better than slamming. Angela would take that, and even accept it as a goodbye. But how she wished, she could have said ‘goodbye.' One more week, and there won’t be a chance for ‘goodbyes’ or ‘I’m sorry,' either.
The last week had passed by in a blink. All but two of Angela’s agents had emptied out their desk. Professional movers had come in and helped pack up the last of some things Angela wanted to be shipped to the house. Although she was buying property for her in St. Croix, she was going to keep her home outside the city as a winter lodge. Even though vacation living was going to be fun in the sun, there were times she appreciated the heavy snowfall of the northeast region of the country. The home was practically new, and in relatively good condition, and what Daphne had said stuck with her. She had dedicated so much of herself to even being able to afford a home like that, to just toss away for a cabana some white sand was a waste.
Owning both also gave the opportunity to leverage her assets for when she does decide to finally settle in one or the other. She never considered that option before, but so much had changed now. There was a whole new reason to come back now. Her thoughts went to the cold, rainy nights she spent wrapped up in covers with her new love. Kisses before sleeping, and caresses in the morning. That is a warmth not even the most sun-soaked beach can duplicate. And she could only hope someday to have more moments like those. The mere possibility of it was worth keeping her mini manor. Their romance was unexpected, proving sometimes ever her best-laid plans can be turned on their head, whether she liked it or not. She didn’t always need to hold the reins of her life so tight. If anything, letting go is exactly what’s sometimes required.
Saturday had come, and Daphne managed this last week before receiving her last check from Briar Homes to actually job search. She had to remind herself what some of her best transferrable skills were, and update her resume. No one had to contact her about any of the jobs she had applied for, but she had to remind herself it had been only five days. This week not only tested her resolve in dealing with setbacks and letdowns in finding gainful employment but ever since Angela had brought over her box of belongings she had been uneasy. Maybe, it was just her anxiety, but that box seemed a little too big for what few things she could recall even having in the office they shared. Daphne had intentionally avoided opening it. In her mind, it would be like unleashing Pandora’s box.
She had passed by it for days and simply could not bring it herself each time she crossed her living room to open it. Yet, today she figured she might as well. After all, she hadn’t been able to find her day planner, and it had some great connections in there. Some buyers were business owners, and she had built up a great rapport with many of them over the past two years. If any of them could network and give her some leads on a job in any market, it’d be worth rummaging through the remainder of the box to find that day planner with their phone numbers and email addresses. A paring knife retrieved from the kitchen glided effortlessly through the tape across the top of the brown box.
As Daphne opened it, she was greeted by her usual desk fodder. Her hot pink stapler; a little digital clock she got at a Sharper Image store; random ink pens and the cup that did house them once. It must have tipped over because now pens were all over the bottom of the box. But also, there at the bottom was her day planner. She quickly grabbed it and begin skimming through it. She found many familiar names and numbers, emails, even LinkedIn profile names. It was what was in the very back she wasn’t expecting. She recognized the handwriting, but nothing prepared her for the words she read:
Hey Daph,
Was gonna let you know I’m heading to my accountant’s place to discuss some things. I’m going to miss you while I’m gone! Can’t wait to get back and tell you what I’m working on for us. It’s about project “free bird” finally flying high. Call it crazy, call it what you will, but I’m excited, we’ll talk when I get back. P.S. I love you,
~Angela
Daphne’s heart raced. When was this written, and how’d she missed it? Flipping the small notebook around in her hands, she found she had been writing it what would be considered the back of the binder for years, but Angela had written in the actual “front.”
The pages had no headers or numbers, just lines. They found so many ways to communicate in the office secretly, but mostly through text messages or some means like that. This was personal and intimate. Handwritten, and endearing. For us, it read. And most of all, I love you. Daphne at the moment realized how everything was so wrong now. She felt neglected when she was everything but that.
She had accused Angela of keeping her uninformed about changes and the future, only to now see she had made mention of those things, and at dinner that night she was going to thoroughly discuss it all, more than likely. That would explain her behavior. Just…everything. “Oh my God! I got to get there. I got to get to her.” Daphne found herself scrambling around in her room for clothes to put on. Any clothes would do, as long as she could get to the airpark on time. She was going to have to become the GPS navigation queen now so more than ever. She had a roundabout idea of where the Airpark Vista was, but she was for sure. After tossing on a gray tee, some blue jeans, and her tennis shoes, she grabbed her thick coat and was out the door.
Sitting in the elegant passenger lounge, Angela was ready more than ever to just get going and get everything underway; to start retirement life. To most, she was far too young to be retiring, but to her forties were the perfect time to throw in the towel.
From her standpoint, she had a successful run at owning a business, made wise investments, helped some young career driven people to find themselves in the real estate world, and in the end, she even found someone to love. This last week gave her more than enough to time reassess her affair with Daphne. The good, the bad. All of it. She had actually been staying in a hotel for the past few days, but to not feel so alone in her house. As big as it was it never felt so empty that it did not have Daphne spending her time there.
It did not feel that way before her, and as far as Angela was concerned, it didn’t feel the same after her. That feeling of immense emptiness was only a metaphor for what was going on in Angela’s heart.
It, in fact, made her reconsider purchasing a large home in St. Croix and instead opt for something reasonably sized and cozy. She had already video chatted with an agent there, a good college friend who had made a move there himself nearly a decade ago and never looked back.
He mapped out some potential places that were going to be exactly what she was looking for. At this point, he could offer her a hole in a cave to hide in, and she’d be glad to take it.
“We’re all set.” It was her pilot for this new venture into retirement that spoke. She had flown with him a few years back to the very island they were headed today. Stanley was his name, and flying was his game, so he had said the first time they met. Today, however, he was extra cheerful despite the cold front that had made its way in last night.
“Let’s just be thankful there’s no precipitation, though,” he stated when Angela mentioned the chill outside.
They had left the lounge of the small building that acted as a rest area and mock airport for the airpark. The landing strip had two other Cessna’s parked in waiting. Today, the one they’d be taking was fully loaded with all Angela’s favorite amenities. She had settled all her debts, bid sweet farewells to business investors and acquaintances. She had even returned to Le Parachute to had delivered the biggest “tip” that her waiter friend had probably ever seen in his whole food service career. And most would not believe she dished out more hugs in these past two weeks than she had in two decades. Now, as they were heading toward the little plane, it’s loading door opened, and Stanley’s co-pilot gave them a welcoming smile, Angela finally felt the twinge of hurt at not having Daphne along for the journey.
Denial had stopped her from facing the reality of moving to an island, to get away from it all for good, and having someone she wouldn’t want to be away from for more than a day tells her to leave without her. She pursed her lips up, watched Stanley go ahead up the steps carrying her carry-on luggage and then took the first step onto the plane’s entrance.