by Penny Ward
"Sir? You’re calling me sir now? You've never called me sir before? Don't start now… you know my name, Emma."
“It seems an appropriate title.”
He huffs understandably and pushes passed me on the stairs on his way to another night out on the town.
Before the door slams behind him, he adds, "I'd say don't wait up, but you never do anymore."
Damn.
It hits me like a slap in the face.
Hard.
I can't work for him anymore.
I can’t do it.
Everything we had—our friendship, trust, history, and the incredible sexual attraction—has somehow altered intolerably.
If I work here much longer, in this toxic environment, we'll hate each other.
I can't bear the thought of that.
Maybe if I hand in my notice to quit and get a job somewhere else, we might one day be friends again?
Maybe?
Chapter 16
I spent the next few hours calling multiple high-end cleaning agencies. Although I want to walk out of here right now, the good girl in me takes over.
I can’t just leave him without a cleaner.
The poor guy would go insane.
He wouldn’t even know how to use a duster, or even pick up his own clothes.
After arranging my replacement, I cry buckets while typing out the letter on Caleb's computer.
He won't like me leaving, but I do all I can to ensure he won't suffer with regards to my job.
Dear Mr. Caleb Hawksley,
Please accept this, my letter of resignation.
I've arranged for an agency to send my replacement first thing tomorrow, and I've sent them all the information they need to keep things working like clockwork for you. Don't worry, you won't even know I'm gone.
Be happy,
Miss. Emma White X
Once the letter is printed, I sign it, pop it into an envelope, and leave it on his pillow to find on his return.
As I leave the penthouse, a lump in my throat and tissues in my hand, I say a silent goodbye to my Caleb, to all the hopes I'd cherished, and my heart is heavy with loss.
“Goodbye,” I whisper.
Chapter 17
A week has passed since I packed my world up into two suitcases and ten boxes and moved from Caleb Hawksley's penthouse.
Betty is on hand to help me through the withdrawal from Caleb, from all I've ever known, with her usual good sense of reason and spats of laughter. I’ve been staying in her apartment trying to decide where life is going to take me next. I have a few ideas, but it is hard to make such life changing decisions.
Turns out I have a lot genuine friends; you discover genuine friends when your life takes a crappy turn.
Still, it's been revelatory to me, seeing who still wants to hang out even though I'm no longer close to one of the richest, and most handsome, men in the US.
Seems domestic service only suited me while I worked for Caleb.
The idea of washing a stranger's undergarments doesn't fill me with glee or inspire my usual work ethic. Caleb's undergarments were quite another matter, which is why I'm now unemployed—let's face it.
Betty and several other friends all persuade me to let them take me to our favorite Chinese restaurant, Yu Lin’s, and we're on our way there—in a cab too, so right now it actually is a treat.
In a week of tears and doubts and worries, this is a good day, and I'm smiling for the first time since the ball.
"Thanks for this, you guys. Means a lot."
We share a smile, my friends and I, and Betty says, "That's what friends are for."
At our restaurant, we clamber out joking and laughing, all psyched up for chow mien, noodles and prawn crackers. Once inside, the friendly staff welcomes us to our table with bobbing heads and wide grins. "Oh, I love it here."
Betty says, "Beats the ball, huh?"
"Always."
She's so right.
Here, I'm comfortable in my jeans and t-shirt, and I'm with good friends who never would use me as a substitute.
No need for Gucci dresses and Jimmy Choos to impress two-faced bitches in here.
But I don't want to remember those girls, because they remind me of him.
"No more talk of balls or billionaires. Not tonight."
“I bet your billionaire had a nice set though,” Ellie laughs.
“A set of what?” I ask, confused.
“Balls,” she laughs again.
This time I can’t help but laugh. Ellie has always been the comical one – always ready with a one-line joke.
But her comment sends my memory back to Caleb and his balls slapping against my ass, how his weighty cock felt in my hand, and renewed feelings of loss bubble in my belly.
“Well, let me tell you about my week,” Ellie begins. “Hopefully, it will distract you from your change in life path.”
“Hopefully,” I mumble.
“Well, my boyfriend and I were setting up a joint email account yesterday.”
“A joint email account? Should you do that?”
“Oh, it’s ok. I still have my old email account, it’s just for people who want to contact both of us. Anyway, we got to the setup section where they asked to enter a password and it has to be eight characters long. So Tim enters his suggested password ‘mypenis.’ And the computer pops up a message that’s says – ‘Not long enough’!”
We all burst into laughter. “Really?!”
“Oh yeah!” Ellie has tears in her eyes from laughing. “I fell onto the floor, I was laughing so hard. His password ‘mypenis’ was only seven characters long – oh, I tell you, I couldn’t stop laughing!”
Ellie’s life stories are always a cure for anyone feeling down. Not only do weird things happen to her, but she knows how to deliver a joke.
“Alright, well how’s this then?” Ellie continues. “This one is a joke.”
We all roll our eyes with smiles on our faces – as crazy as Ellie’s life is, her jokes can be very lame.
“Alright, alright. Excuse me for bringing some fun to the table,” she smiles.
“Go on then,” Jay replies. “Tell us the joke.”
“Good. Well, a man comes home from work with a massive smile on his face. He is happier than his wife has seen in a long time. ‘What are you so happy about?’ she asks him. He just smiles and asks his wife, ‘What would you do if I won the lottery?’ She thinks about it for a while and then says, ‘I’d take half and leave your ass!’ Then the man replies, ‘Great! I won 12 bucks, here is six, now get out!’”
We all laugh heartily. Again, it is all in the delivery.
Once our food turns up and we begin digging in, my 'almost break down' is forgotten and the conversation has moved to Beth and her girlfriend, Louise, and their plans to get a place together.
"About time if you ask me," I say, happy for them, "You two were made for each other."
“Some things aren’t that easy,” Beth says. “We have had to deal with a lot of drama during our relationship so this is a really big step for us. But despite everything we’ve experienced, love gets us through.”
I smile, “It makes me happy to hear that.”
Maybe one day I can believe in love again.
Maybe.
“What are you going to do now, Emma?” Beth asks as she crunches into a prawn cracker.
“School, I think. I would love to be a teacher,” I reply.
“A teacher. Yes… I could see you as a teacher. Maybe younger grades?”
“Absolutely. I couldn’t handle high school kids. No way. Dealing with all the angst and drama would be too much. And I’ve just spent three years dealing with angst and drama, so I need a break from that too.”
“I though we weren’t going to mention him,” Betty adds.
I shrug, “I’ll try not to mention him again.”
“Good. Let’s change the conversation then. Has anybody read the new Elizabeth Ward book?”
“O
hhh… yes. Yes please,” Beth replies.
And the conversation easily sways away from my pain and back into everything normal. Books, movies, television shows, life, work and the future.
I smile at my table of friends.
Truly, I feel blessed to have these people in my life.
Everything is normal again.
Good.
But just has the world is starting to feel natural again, just as I am starting to forget, the doors of the restaurant swing open.
Damn.
Chapter 18
Caleb’s tall, broad frame stands at the doorway, the light bouncing off his perfect face.
"Fuck," I say, then whisper, "What's he doing here?"
Betty sees him, "Raise your menus folks."
They all grab something to hide me, including menus and placemats, but I feel the moment his eyes find mine—almost before I see their red-rimmed blueness.
And one long stride after another, he marches straight to our table.
To me he says, "Emma, I found you."
My voice is cracked. "Yes, Caleb, you did."
Betty looks at me, then at Caleb, then back at me, and squeezes my hand.
"Nothing is the same without you around. I need you back. I need you. Is there somewhere we can talk?" he states.
His strong body and square jaw do little to hide his vulnerability.
Caleb Hawksley never has to beg for anything, yet here he is.
Perhaps the new girl isn't up to scratch?
If only he wanted the same as me.
If only he wanted me as a woman and not as his damn housekeeper.
"What do you want, Caleb? Can't you see I'm busy? I’m about to be served the best Chicken Chow Mein in the city. It would have to be mighty important to disturb me from that."
"Can we go somewhere private?" He glimpses my friends, and with pleading eyes and a quiet voice he says to me, "Somewhere we can talk?"
“Talk?”
“Yes, Em. Talk.”
The nerve - things aren't working out with his new housekeeper so he thinks he can track me down and order me around?
"I don’t work for you anymore Caleb. You have a new housekeeper. If you have anything you want to say you can just as easily say it here. These people are all my friends.”
I can't be his employee, not anymore.
It isn't enough.
He frowns, runs a hand back through his hair, and licks his lips, "Okay, I will."
The restaurant isn't full, but those who were eating and minding their own business are now more interested in the handsome, well-dressed man bothering a table of people than in their own food. "So say it?"
He snaps his knuckles, which is something he stopped doing years ago. "I miss you. There, I said it."
Yep, he wants me back as his freaking maid.
"You miss me looking after your every need more like it. The agency sent you my replacement. If she's not good enough, get someone else or train her better. The running of your house is no longer my problem, remember? I quit. I don’t want to work for someone like you anymore Caleb. My life is taking a new path."
"The new housekeeper is fine, that's not it."
Oh?
I'm suddenly jealous that I've been so easily replaced.
"I mean, she's not you, but she gets the job done. She doesn’t understand me, but she cleans well."
So…
"What are you talking about then?" I ask, full of hope.
"I miss you, not your domestic professionalism," he shrugs, "I miss how you make me laugh no matter what time it is or how grumpy I am. I miss how you keep my feet on the ground, with your don't-mess-with-me attitude. I miss how you laugh at my faults, and how you were always there to make me see what's important."
Everyone in the restaurant is gripped, and the tension is palpable because I have no words to break it.
I can’t think of any words to say.
This is not what I expected.
"Lately it feels like the sun turned cold, and we live in LA."
Everyone stares at me, waiting for my reaction.
All I can say at first is, "Oh."
The truth of things dawns on me slowly, like his words take a moment to melt beneath my skin.
Is he talking about friendship?
Does he want to catch up for coffee?
"What exactly do you want from me, Caleb? Our noodles are getting cold."
He holds his arms out towards me, "You…Man, you don't make this easy, do you?"
Betty butts in, "Why should she? You let her down already. Maybe you don't deserve a second chance."
"Yes," he says, looking at my pal and wincing at the memory. "You're right. I was such an idiot." He rakes his hands back through his hair, "I did ask you to the ball last minute, and I did ask you because Demi let me down."
Everyone at my table groans in unison, including me.
"But…" he raises his hands in surrender, fear behind his eyes, "Once I did ask you, I thought about how it might be with you at one of those stuffy functions instead of one of my usual dates. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why the hell I didn't ask you sooner."
The unison groan and scowl become a unison wide-eyed stare.
"Each moment I grew more and more excited about showing you off to my friends and colleagues, and yeah, to Demi and any other women who I'd either dated before or who wanted to date me. Enjoying your easy, genuine company was always a breath of fresh air for me, and I couldn't wait to be with you. By the time I got home from work I could barely keep my hands off you and well, I don't know about you, but what happened between us then just…blew my mind."
Oh. My.
"It did?"
My friends continue with their sound effects, adding a unison gasp to the proceedings.
"Wow. That's some explanation, Em," says Betty, staring up at Caleb.
The rest agree and all say, "Yeah!"
James adds, "I couldn't think of a better explanation, and I've had to think up quite a few in the past."
Betty scowls and elbows him. "We'll talk about that comment later."
"See what I mean?" James says to Caleb.
Caleb smiles politely at them both, in thanks for their support no doubt. Then he asks me, "So, will you?"
"Will I what?"
"What do you think, Emma?"
"Now's not the time for being cryptic, Caleb."
My body is shaking. I'm so glad to be seated.
"Oh, for heaven’s sake, woman," he pleads. "I want you in my life. Now. Starting as soon as you step from around that damned table."
My heart leaps up into my mouth as his words leave his mouth. Betty says, "Holy shit," and squeezes my hand so tight, no blood can reach my fingertips.
The rest of my group is silent, as if even their breathing might ruin this moment between me and Caleb.
Then, just as I dare to believe the pain of losing him can end for good, I remember why we can't be happy together.
"Oh, Caleb. Incredible as all this sounds, you and I don't live in the same world. We found out to my cost that I don't fit in yours. How can we share a life together?"
Betty pinches the back of my hand, and when I snatch it away in pain and glare at her, she grimaces at me.
"Stop judging me." I tell her, "You don't understand."
"I know when two people should be together and when my friend's being a stubborn dumbass."
"What?"
James and the rest of our pals gasp or giggle.
Caleb says, "See? She gets it."
"No, she doesn't and neither do you, unfortunately, Caleb."
"So explain it to me, because to me it's simple."
"To put it purely, you want everything money can buy, and I want everything it cannot."
Betty and James are watching our conversation like you might watch a game of tennis, watching the point fly from one racket to the other.
"A guy can change his mind, can't he?" Caleb insists. "Mayb
e this guy grew up? Maybe he gets what's important now?"
Let’s see how much, "So you agree your world sucks?"
He grins, "See, right there…" Excited, he points at my face. "That's what you are."
I touch my face, everyone glaring at me, imagining a stray noodle hanging from my chin, "What?"
"I miss it so badly—your honesty, which I admit can be brutal."
"Ah."
Okay, no noodle.
"You can't help but be honest with me, with anyone. I never had much of it growing up, and I can count on one hand how many people are honest with me now. Most want to please me so badly they become diluted versions of themselves to fit into what they think I am. You never did that, which is why you hate my world."
"So you see my problem? How can we—"
"Because we have a real chance here, Em." He offers me his hand, reaching over the table, his arm stretching between Beth’s and Ellie’s heads, "And because I see we have a third choice…"
Chapter 19
"What third choice?” There's your world or mine. And I don’t fit into your world, nor do I ever want to," I say, staring at his hand, wanting so much to take hold of it.
"Let me take you on a date, and I'll show you. It's all planned. Say yes, and take my hand. Take a chance on me, Em."
Tiny insect wings flutter in my chest. I turn to Betty frowning, silently asking her advice, but knowing what she'll say.
"Get your sweet, perky ass out of here," Betty releases my hand allowing blood to rush to my extremities, igniting pins and needles. "You've been a royal misery since you guys fell out. He's right, listen to him. Go work it out already. Shoo."
Ellie adds, "Yeah. Get out of here. Take a chance, Em."
The rest of the group join in insisting I give Caleb another chance. I so want to, but the memory of my humiliation still hurts.
Still I try to ignore it.
"Go now," adds James, seeing me dither. "Or you know what conversation's next—and it won't be about soccer balls."
"Ah," yeah, discussing Caleb's balls might be a step too far at this fragile stage. "Hold that conversation till we're gone or I'll break your balls."
