Embrace

by S. Layne

  The distant helps me think clearly.

  “I do want more.”

  “More what? Pleasure? You want sex more often, is that it? Maybe it makes it better to have a slight connection with the person you’re fucking, is that it?”

  His lips purse and his expression is indecipherable. “What we have works.”

  I take a step back. I’m shocked at his words, and yet not entirely surprised. “So what you want is to continue fucking me when it’s convenient, and have me stay your assistant when you go work for my father.”

  “It doesn’t have to be as cold as you’re suggesting, Laurie.” He steps toward me, closing the space, and I reach for my purse next to his door.

  “But it is, isn’t it? Because you fuck women for pleasure and that’s all you do.”

  I throw his words back in his face and watch him flinch.

  “I didn’t expect to actually like you.”

  “Wow.” I run a hand through my hair. My skin is cold and my fingers tremble. “I was actually starting to think you might mean that, too.”

  “I do,” he says and he’s in front of me. His hands copy my movement, running through his own hair and then falling to his sides. “I do mean it.”

  “In a way that means I’m not too bad to be around, and you’re not bored of fucking me yet, right?”

  A muscle in his jaw jumps and he takes another step. It puts my back to his door and I fall into it while bracing myself against his touch.

  His hand cups my cheek, his thumb rubbing gently along my skin. “What we have works, Laurie, and you know it. It’s all I can offer.”

  My eyes begin to sting and I have to get out of here. I knew coming here was a mistake. I might have gotten some answers, but I’m leaving with more questions.

  And I realize it doesn’t matter.

  The unknown expiration date of my relationship with Liam has just become known.

  “I deserve more than that,” I tell him, my voice thick with emotion. “I deserve a man who wants to give me everything.”

  I’ve always known that wasn’t Liam, but damn it if at some point along the way I began fooling myself into thinking that he could be that man.

  “I’m not that man, Laurie.” His hand presses into the door next to my head and he leans in. He smells like our sex and I close my eyes, inhaling him. “You know that. And yes, I want you to continue working for me.”

  “Until you get bored and quit, right? Isn’t that what you alluded to earlier? All of this is some game to you.”

  “Not you.”

  I scoff. “I know. I’ve been the fun attraction on the side.”

  “That’s not how I think of you. Not at all.”

  I lift my eyes to his and blink slowly. “Maybe not. But it doesn’t make it less true.” I swallow down my regret. This hurts, even if I knew it was over anyway. “You will have my resignation first thing Monday morning when I return to work.”

  His jaw tightens and he grimaces. Leaning down, he brushes his lips against my ear and I have to fight not to shiver underneath him.

  “Don’t do this.”

  I turn my head, breaking his touch. “It’s already done, I think. I will never work for my father. I’ve never wanted it.”

  His other hand cups my chin and he pulls me to him.

  Along with the sadness in my eyes, I hope he sees my determination to remain strong.

  In his eyes, I see nothing—just pale blue orbs that take their time examining me. When he lets me go and steps away from the door, allowing me space to move, I feel more than our physical connection being severed between us.

  “I’ll give you Monday to decide, but I hope you reconsider.”

  His hands slide into his front jeans pockets and his expression goes to his professional mask.

  Pain sears my chest and I turn, reaching for the doorknob. “I won’t,” I promise him.

  I can’t.

  I might not have been a game to Liam, but everything else was.

  And I wasn’t lying or feigning confidence when I told him I deserve more than just being a really good bed partner.

  I deserve a man who wants me and will stop at nothing to have me.

  I deserve a man who will fight for me.

  Sheila’s cheery voice, which has always been joyful, grates on my frazzled nerves as I see her behind her desk.

  “How are you, Laurie? It’s good to see you back.”

  I smile but it’s shaky, and I press my lips together to hide my nerves. “Good morning. Is Mr. Parker in?”

  She smiles, and that nod of hers—so knowing and predatory at the same time. She’ll most likely be thrilled to learn I’m gone, even though she never knew of my relationship with Liam in the first place.

  “He is, but he said he had to go out for a moment.”

  Good. A sigh of relief leaves my lips. “Thank you,” I tell her and begin walking toward my desk.

  I’m twenty feet away from a place that has been my second home, sometimes closer to my first home, and I have never walked this hallway before on shaking feet with trembling limbs.

  Now, I can’t wait to escape.

  This weekend was spent considering everything that has happened to me in the last three months. From first learning of James’s affair, to Chicago, to my own affair and the ultimate betrayal at my parents’ charity gala just over a week ago, I have cried enough tears and I have created enough pro/con lists to fill a recycling center.

  My decisions have been made, and even though I’m terrified of what’s to come in the future, there are certain areas of my past that need to be put to rest.

  The first one being my job.

  I can find another, and I have enough savings to last me for months before I need to even consider cutting back on small luxuries like wine nights with Talia.

  My heart beats loudly inside my chest as I reach my desk—and behind it, Liam’s office. Through his windows I can see the sparkling water along Lake Michigan’s shoreline and sailboats, their owners already enjoying the crisp, morning breeze and sunshine. Summer is in full effect, along with the heat and humidity. Tourists that flock to our city for weekend getaways will clog the beaches later this afternoon, but this morning the scene is idyllic, and I take just a brief moment to enjoy it.

  To appreciate it.

  I haven’t done much appreciating of anything lately, and allowing myself the small, calming moment helps center me to the task ahead.

  I enter Liam’s office, looking back to ensure he’s not behind me, and slide my resignation letter onto his clean glass desktop.

  He will not be surprised about my resignation, as I made myself clear the last time we saw each other on Thursday, but I have no doubt that if he were in his office now, he’d be telling me to close the door and he’d attempt to change my mind—in any way possible.

  Just another reason I’m thankful I have timed my arrival appropriately and he’s not here.

  The first step being done, I return to my desk and take a seat. I most likely only have moments before Liam arrives, and I need to prepare myself to remain strong against his commanding and tempting presence.

  In an effort to remain professional, I have given Liam my two weeks’ notice—although I would rather have made my notice effective immediately. I could have requested two weeks’ notice and then used my copious amounts of vacation time to not return to work, but I do not want to be a coward.

  I simply have to learn how to handle being around Liam without letting him touch me or affect me physically.

  The reality that he was truly giving me everything he believes he could, and the fact that it’s still not nearly enough, helps remind me of my worth.

  My outfit helps. My sleek, black cigarette-styled pants and a sophisticated but simple pale green button-up shirt help me feel more professional. I’d feel even better if I still had my favorite heels, but this morning I had to settle on black ballet flats due to my still swollen and tender ankle.

  But my splint
is gone, so that’s a bonus.

  I’m in the middle of wading through my massive amounts of email from being gone for the last week when I’m startled by my phone ringing.

  I don’t glance at it before I answer.

  “Good morning, Laurie Baker, this is Mr. Parker’s office,” I answer professionally.

  “Hi, Laurie, this is Elma Preston calling.”

  I’m distracted by the email in front of me, and it takes me a second to recognize the voice and the name.

  “Elma,” I finally say, gasping her name, and my hands instantly go clammy.

  “I’m sorry to call you, dear, but I have some bad news.”

  “My dad?” I ask, and one hand reaches out and curls around the edge of the desk. Why else would my father’s assistant of thirty years be calling me?

  “No, sweetie.” Her voice quiets. “Your mom has had a heart attack. She’s been rushed to the U of M hospital this morning.”

  And just like that, my entire world tilts and shakes, leaving me feeling breathless and my head spinning.

  “Oh my God.” My fingers go to my mouth, covering my curse. At any other point in time, Elma would call me on taking the Lord’s name in vain, but today she gives me a free pass.

  “I’m supposed to tell you that your father called James and he’s on his way to get you. Gerald doesn’t feel safe having you drive here—assuming you will come, of course.”

  “Of course.” I shake my head, trying to clear it.

  A thousand thoughts run through my head as I sit and listen to this woman continue speaking. She tells me my dad was there with my mom and saw her collapse.

  My father called 9-1-1 for my mom.

  He must be a wreck. The man can’t work the microwave at home. Anywhere other than the office, he’s clueless. My mom has always taken care of him.

  “Thank you, Elma. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Please…let him know.” I shake my head again. “No, I’ll call him.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” she says, and her voice is soothing, but I don’t want to listen to her. I want to talk to my father. “I’m in the waiting room while he speaks with the doctors. I’ll let him know.”

  “Thank you.” I hang up, not giving her a chance to say goodbye, but I figure she’ll give me a pass on these manners as well.

  When the phone is in the cradle, I stare at the computer screen and see nothing but numbers and letters and a graph that I should be studying, but it’s all become a foreign language.

  I need to get to my mom.

  My feet lead me out of the elevator. My heart is fluttering madly inside my chest and I’m not paying attention to my surroundings. All I know is that James should be here soon.

  James…who apparently dropped everything as soon as he was called to come and get me. A man I haven’t spoken to in a week but was planning on seeing at another therapy appointment tomorrow night.

  He’s come for me.

  My eyes begin to burn and I blink in rapid succession. I can fall apart later.

  “Laurie.”

  The sound of Liam’s voice snaps me back to the present, and I freeze in our building’s lobby. I’m usually enamored with its marble pillars and floors—it looks so magnificent—but today I haven’t noticed an inch of the space.

  With Liam in front of me, looking at me with uncertainty and hesitancy, I don’t notice anything else besides him as the blood rushes from my head.

  “Hey.”

  “You okay?” He takes a step forward and raises his hand.

  To touch me? I step back and run a hand through my hair, pushing a small chunk behind my ear. He can’t touch me. Not when I’m shaking like I am.

  “Fine,” I tell him, and my eyes flicker outside. James will be here any moment.

  “You’re not.” He grasps my elbow, firm but gentle, and he pulls me behind a pillar.

  My back bumps against it, and I have to fight the urge to collapse.

  My mom just had a heart attack. It can’t be true. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met. Does yoga three times a week. She still does a spinning class with women who are younger than me. She’s in incredible shape.

  “I need to go.” I try to move out of his grasp, but he tightens his hold.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I don’t look directly at him. I can’t. He’s too dangerous—especially when I’m feeling so unstable, so not brave and strong like I need to be to withstand his temptation.

  Even now, barely glancing at his hair and his eyes, his body, and the hint of his cologne in the air that is also still all over my pillows—

  He’s sin in a pretty package.

  “My mom,” I say, opting for the truth. “She’s…” I shake my head. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  And he sounds like he means it. Those two words say everything and not enough.

  “I know.” I nod and inhale a fortifying breath. “I can’t talk to you about this now,” I tell him and watch as the edges of his eyes tighten, his brows pull together.

  I push against his arm with my free hand until he lets go. Running my fingers through my hair, I take another breath. “My mom just had a heart attack.”

  Liam’s mouth drops and he moves to touch me, but I step out of his way.

  “I can’t even touch you now?” He scowls, and I can see frustration lining his lips.

  “It’s better if you don’t.”

  “Laurie. What can I do to help?”

  Everything. Nothing. I have no idea. I ignore the plea that sounds so genuine, so caring. It sounds so much like the man I wish he could have been.

  I take another step toward the lobby, backing away from him as if he could hurt me. Except he already has.

  “Nothing. I’ll be fine, I’m just waiting for a ride to get to the hospital, but I left my resignation on your desk.”

  His eyes widen and he opens his mouth, but I continue before he can speak.

  “It’s for the best, and I’ve given the appropriate two weeks. I’ll call you when I can, let you know what’s going on with my mom and when I’ll be back.”

  I’m rambling and I know it, but any moment James will be here, and I really want to avoid another meeting between these two men. James never said anything about my boss’s proprietary hold on me at the gala last week, and I don’t know if he’s yet figured out Liam is the man I slept with in Chicago.

  It’s better if the two never see each other.

  “Fuck your job,” Liam hisses, his voice low and threatening. “We’ll deal with that shit later. What I want to know now is, are you okay?”

  “No.” I crack my knuckles and look outside.

  At some point when I wasn’t looking, James pulled up. His black, sleek Lexus is pulled right up to the curb and I see him standing against the passenger side door. Can he see me?

  “Your husband?” Liam asks, and his hand is again wrapped around my elbow, gaining my attention. “That’s who you called for a ride?”

  He looks hurt. I don’t have the time to assuage his concerns. “My father did. But I have to go.”

  “Call me if you need me.” His soft, caring voice is soothing and confusing. I’ve just quit. I’ve told him I don’t want anything else to do with him, and he seems as if he doesn’t care about me rejecting him.

  “I will.” I won’t, but I need to get moving. I have to see my mom. My eyes glance outside and I see James clearly.

  His hands in fists at his sides, his eyes narrowed not on me—but on Liam.

  His jaw is tight with an anger he rarely shows.

  “I’ll call you later,” I tell Liam when he lets me go. Looking over my shoulder as I walk away from him, I watch as he runs his hand through his unruly hair. It’s the first time I’ve seen him looking a little bit lost.

  Then he nods. “When you can.”

  I lift a hand in a wave goodbye. “Okay.”

  He turns on his heels, leaving me alone to face James.

  The s
un hits my eyes, making me squint as soon as I’m through the door.

  Without a word, James puts his hand on my back and ushers me into the passenger side of his car.

  It’s the first time he’s touched me in a week, and I don’t move away from him.

  Because of my guilt? Or because he knows? Or because of my mom? James knows my relationship with my mom has always been strained, how difficult it is for me to listen to her constant criticism, as if I can do nothing right, but he knows how much it hurts me. How much I’ve always wanted something more between us.

  The car rocks gently when James enters the car on his side. The heel of his hand comes down and slams onto the wheel before he turns to me, anger shooting from his eyes.

  “He wants you.”

  My nose twitches. He’s had me.

  I shrug. “Perhaps.” Yet my fingers have found their way to the hem of my shirt, flicking it and picking imaginary lint. I’m lying.

  And James knows it.

  The inside crackles with heated anger that I feel pulsing from James just a small distance away. Guilt and shame chill my blood.

  “Your boss?” he hisses. “That’s the man you slept with in Chicago.”

  It’s not a question, so I don’t answer. James is too smart to not have figured it out anyway.

  I look out the window, and eventually James curses and pulls his car into traffic.

  The small space is filled with thick tension, making it difficult to breathe. I fight the urge to roll down my window for fresh air.

  “It wasn’t just once, was it?”

  The pain in his voice sears my heart, straight through my chest as if he’s stabbed me.

  I sigh and drop my head back against the headrest, wishing I could do anything to avoid this conversation. Unfortunately, we have a two-hour drive in front of us.

  “James.”

  The leather on the steering wheel squeaks under his tight and twisting grip. I turn to look at him and see his teeth clenched together, and I know he’s trying to rein in his anger.

  “Can we please not talk about this now?” I ask, my voice soft and pleading. My chin trembles as I fight the tears that want to fall. I hate that I’ve hurt him. It was never my intention. “It’s over anyway.”