Wherever You Will Go

by Stephanie Smith

  Harper slumps back down in her chair, clearly disappointed, as Saxon pushes the button for the elevator.

  “Well?” he questions.

  “Yeah, dinner would be nice,” I reply with a sigh.

  “You deserve to celebrate, Brooke. I think you’ve forgotten what a big deal you being here really is.”

  “You’re right. It has been a big deal, and it’s been a great week.” The proud smile on my face is as wide as it feels, I’m sure.

  “It has been a great week,” Saxon states quietly with a small smile playing on his lips. He is studying my face, and I’m not aware how close he is standing to me until I feel his warm breath flow over my face. We’re standing here staring at each other, yet it doesn’t feel awkward like it should.

  The elevator dings and we’re shaken out of our moment, Saxon taking a step back from me.

  “I have to discuss a few things with Bill and then I’ll meet you in your office to continue on with the payroll from yesterday,” Saxon says as he holds the elevator door open for me.

  “Sure,” I say as I enter the elevator. I turn around and just as the doors are closing my eyes meet Harper’s. She has a weird look on her face. I tilt my head, looking at her as the elevator doors close, and I quickly consider pushing the button to open them again and see what that face is for.

  Sitting down behind my desk, I decide to call my mum. She calls me every day, most days twice, and I might surprise her and get in first this time.

  The phone rings only a couple times before Mum answers. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Mum.”

  “Brooke? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, Mum. I just thought I’d call you today.” I laugh.

  She laughs. “Okay, darling. How are you?”

  “I’m good.”

  “That’s good. How is everything going down there? How’s Saxon?”

  “He’s good. He’s taking me to dinner tonight, actually. Wants to celebrate my first week.”

  “Really?” Her interest is piqued. “That’s lovely, Brooke. Are you spending much time with him?”

  “Pretty much all my time is spent with him.” I laugh.

  “That’s wonderful. Let him look after you, Brooke,” she says softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You are both going through the same thing and really don’t have anyone else. I mean, your father and I don’t understand what you’re going through like Saxon does. Rachel, she doesn’t get it. I know Saxon is controlling and protective but… just let him.” She sighs deeply.

  I’m not sure exactly what she means or what she wants me to say. “I don’t think I have a choice in the matter, Mum. It’s Saxon.” We both giggle at how true that is. Saxon will do what Saxon wants to do. “How do you think I came to be here in the first place?” I laugh, remembering him telling me to get a shower or he was going to shower me himself. I smile. I have no doubt he would have, too.

  “And it was the best thing you did. Let him in, Brooke, let him take care of you. You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

  I don’t know what she’s insinuating, and I can’t be bothered trying to work it out right now. “Okay, Mum. Well, I’ve got to get going, but I’ll come over tomorrow.”

  “Okay, darling. Enjoy dinner and I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

  “Love you, Mum.”

  Saxon and I spend the afternoon going over the payroll details of all the staff. I feel like I’m grasping most the concepts he is showing me, but I have a feeling he is getting all the easy stuff out of the way first. I have no doubt this is to build my ego, and I appreciate it. It’s working.

  “Had enough for today?” Saxon asks as I place the last piece of paper on the pile.

  Placing my reading glasses on the table, I stretch my arms above my head. “Yeah,” I yawn. “I’m starving.”

  “Come on, let’s go then. I’ve booked us a table at Chenzo’s.”

  “Oh, I love that place. I haven’t been there in ages.” It occurs me to me I haven’t been anywhere in ages. Going back to all our favourite restaurants is something I’m going to have to deal with at some point. Going back to all our places, I guess. I can’t stay locked up in my house forever, and there aren’t many places in the city Nate and I haven’t been.

  “Good. I’ll just go shut everything down in my office and lock up,” Saxon says with a small smile. I know he’s thinking about my comment too.

  I wonder how long it will be before everything doesn’t remind me of Nate. A time when the memories don’t bring soul-crushing pain with them.

  Forcing a large smile to ease his mind, I say, “I’ll just go freshen up and meet you by the elevator.”

  He nods as he leaves my office. I shut down my computer, grab my purse and lunch bag out of my bottom drawer, and head to the bathroom.

  Throwing my bags on the bathroom counter, I start searching through my oversized purse for my hairbrush. I quickly pull the brush through my loose curls and tease the roots. Throwing the hairbrush back in my bag, I lightly powder my face and apply a shimmering layer of pink gloss before I gather all of my bags and head out to meet Saxon.

  As I’m walking out of the bathroom, straightening my black skirt, I look up to see him leaning against the wall, one ankle resting over the other and his strong arms crossed over his chest. He has a small smile on his lips, and I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking.

  “Ready?” I ask as I pass him to head to the elevator.

  Saxon steps in line next to me. He reaches across me and pushes the down button. Stepping into the elevator, we ride it to the basement parking lot in silence. It’s not awkward; it’s comfortable. As a matter of fact, this whole week has been comfortable. It’s actually been nice and uplifting. We haven’t spent this much time together since college, rarely seeing each other, other than at work functions or on special family occasions.

  The elevator doors open and Saxon and I both head out straight to our cars. As I unlock and throw my bags in I’m about to sit when Saxon calls out, “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “What will I do with my car? Will you drop me back off here after?”

  “You’re not driving home that late. I’ll drop you home,” he says with no negotiation in his voice.

  “What about my car?”

  “I’ll have it dropped off tomorrow,” he answers calmly.

  “What if I need it tomorrow?” I ask, looking for any excuse.

  “I’ll have it there before you even wake up.”

  He stands there staring at me, waiting for me to make up my mind. I look at my car then back at him.

  I can’t be bothered arguing with him, knowing he will get what he wants anyway, and I’m not even sure why I’m being disagreeable. I lean in, grab my purse, lock up and head towards his Alpha Romeo. He gives me a cocky smile as he holds the passenger door open. I get in, rolling my eyes at him as I sink down into the seat.

  We drive to the restaurant, again in silence. Saxon leans forward to turn up the volume on the radio. Powderfinger’s “These Days” begins to play.

  A small smile plays on my lips. I love Powderfinger. I had first discovered them as a moody pre-teen and have loved them ever since. I listen to the lyrics and realise how real they are for me at the moment.

  An unwelcomed tear slides down my cheek. Life has definitely not turned out how I planned. Only months ago I was planning a family with the man of my dreams. Now I’m all alone, trying to work out where the hell I’m supposed to be and where the hell I fit in.

  After such a successful week this is not how I wanted it to end, with a reminder of my pain... of my reality. Was this week all an act? Did I really accomplish anything?

  Tears flow freely down my cheeks now and I forget for a second that I’m in the car with Saxon until I see his hand rise slightly off the gear stick. It lingers in the air for a second, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. I glance over and can see the indecision on his face.

 
Blinking, he swiftly brings his hand to the steering wheel and skips a couple songs. Suddenly the strong chords of Powderfinger’s “(Baby I’ve Got You) On My Mind” flows through the car.

  “That’s better,” he says.

  Wiping the tears from my face, I can’t help but smile at how sweet he is for not making a big deal out of it.

  Once the song finishes, a sigh escapes me. “I love Powderfinger.”

  “Really?”

  “Why are you surprised?”

  “Well, I know Nate loved them. He was the one who got me into them, but I figured you for a pop kind of girl.”

  “Ha.” I laugh sarcastically. “I’m sure he claimed them as his favourite band, but Nate had never even heard of them before he met me,” I reply smugly. “And I am a pop kind of girl.” I smile defiantly.

  Saxon gives me a small grin and nods.

  We park on the busy street at the front of the restaurant, and I realise my makeup is probably all over the place. I quickly pull down the visor and check my face. It’s not too bad, and I’m grateful for the eighty-dollar makeup setting spray Rach got me onto.

  As I’m applying another light layer of powder and lip-gloss, my door is opened and Saxon is looking down at me with his hand reached out for mine. As I step out of the car he shuts the door behind me.

  The restaurant is casual with seating outside for warmer days and nights, but it also holds a scent of sophistication with the floor-to-ceiling front windows.

  We make our way into the restaurant and the hostess leads us over to a booth in the back corner. I hate booths. I’m too short, and to even reach the table I have to sit on the edge of the bench seat.

  “Hi, my name is Cindy, and I’ll be your server tonight. Care to start with some drinks?” the waitress asks.

  “Two waters for now, please,” Saxon answers her while reaching for his menu.

  “Actually,” I cut in, “I’d love a cosmopolitan, please.” I smile up at Cindy before looking to Saxon.

  He raises his brows at me.

  “What? I thought we were celebrating?” I shrug with a mischievous grin.

  “Fair enough.” Saxon looks at the waitress. “A Macallan neat, please.”

  The waitress nods and heads off to the bar. I push my menu aside, already knowing what I’m ordering, noticing Saxon does the same before leaning back in the booth and resting his arm across the chair behind him.

  “So, this week was that good?” he asks, smiling at me.

  “Yes.” I smile widely. “I know it’s stupid, but I feel like I accomplished a major thing this week.” I look down in embarrassment. But I am excited. It was a massive step for me, and it wasn’t as hard as I thought. Not only did I do it, but it went well, and it was enjoyable.

  “It is major, Brooke.” There is laughter in his voice, and I look up to see a huge smile on his face. “It was a big deal for you to come to Argo and you did it, and all on your own terms. You came not knowing what to expect or how you would cope. Nate would be so proud of you. I’m so proud of you.” There is reverence in his voice.

  “I’m proud of me, too.”

  The waitress brings our drinks and takes our order. As we settle back in our seats to wait for our dinner, Saxon raises his glass. “Here’s to you, Brooke, and your first week at Argo. For being the bravest, strongest, and most wonderful woman I know.” My eyes go wide at that last part, but Saxon just looks down and sips from his drink. “So tell me, it’s been a week, what did you think?”

  “I love the staff. They were helpful and seemed like they really cared about Argo. Plus, they are so much fun,” I smile.

  “Well, that’s important.” He grins. “Did Harper mention her application for study to you?”

  “Yes she did, but only briefly though. I don’t think she wanted me to think she was trying to sway me or something.”

  “What do you think about it?”

  “Well, I’m not exactly sure what it involves.”

  “She wants to study finance. She wants us to pay for it while she continues working and taking on the study. Obviously she’ll need more support in her working role, and we may need to hire another receptionist to allow for her study time and work experience.”

  Saxon hasn’t taken his eyes off me, and I can see my opinion is important, and that he is going to take it seriously instead of brushing me off like he probably should.

  “I think it would be a great thing for all of us. We can train her to work the way we want instead of getting someone who has finished school and thinks they know it all. Plus, she already knows so much about our business, and she fits into the family perfectly. I think she is smart and more than capable to do the job.” I state all this confidently as is my faith in Harper.

  “I agree. You can tell her on Monday and find out what needs to be done to get the ball rolling and organise it,” he says evenly.

  I stare at him with wide eyes. “That’s it?”

  “What’s it?”

  “You’re just going to take my opinion, just like that?”

  “It’s your company, Brooke. I can’t tell you what to do.”

  “Even if I’m doing the wrong thing?” I ask with my voice rising.

  “I’m only here to guide you. If you were doing something and I felt it wasn’t in your best interests or the company’s I would tell you. I totally agree with your thoughts about Harper, and you made the right decision for the company.”

  “Well…” I mumble, unsure exactly what to say to that.

  Saxon laughs at me. “You may be more cut out for this than you thought.”

  “Maybe so,” I mumble.

  He is still laughing as our dinner is being served. My marinara is huge, and my eyes go wide as the bowl is set in front of me. I glance over to Saxon’s steak, and it looks mouth-watering as well.

  We dig in as we continue to talk about the different staff. Saxon informs me of their qualifications, their roles, and all the other boring information which can be found on resumes. In fact, I wonder if he has studied all their resumes.

  I fill him in on all the gossip and goings on of these staff: who is fooling around with who, whose wife has a spending habit and whose children are brats.

  Saxon laughs at my excitement over all the gossip. “Is this what you do all morning, sitting at Harper’s desk and hanging around the staff room?”

  “Yes.” I giggle. I’m a little embarrassed, but not really. I’m a woman; I love to gossip. Plus it’s only my first week. “I guess I won’t be getting as much of that now if Harper begins this traineeship?” I say wistfully.

  “I’m sure you can source the gossip all on your own.” He smiles. “We’ll make a good team, you and I. Nate and I were both so focused on our work that all the scandal was flying right under our noses,” he teases.

  “You’re right.” I snicker. “I will be a huge asset to the company then,” I state proudly, sitting up straight.

  “I knew you would be,” Saxon says under his breath. He gives me a small smile, and we continue to eat in silence. I have a question which has been running through my head all week, but I’m unsure if I want to ask it.

  Without thinking I blurt it out. “What do you think of Paul?”

  Saxon’s eyes shoot up to mine. “Why? What happened? Did he say something to you?”

  “No, I just get a weird vibe from him, and after asking around I think he has made a few of the girls uncomfortable.”

  “What do you mean uncomfortable, and why hasn’t anyone said anything to me?” he asks, his tone rising as he straightens in his seat.

  “Sax, calm down,” I say exasperated. “He hasn’t crossed a line, so I think they didn’t want to bother you and seem like they were being petty.”

  “Sexual harassment isn’t petty, Brooke,” he seethes.

  “I know,” I whisper. “I’m not sure if they would classify it as sexual harassment. I certainly wouldn’t. He was nice to me and was just trying to be helpful. It’s just a gut feeling I hav
e. You can’t fire someone on a gut feeling.”

  “Well, I fucking can,” he says through clenched teeth.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.” A frown forms on my face, and I feel terrible for ruining the nice time we were having.

  Saxon sighs deeply. “You haven’t, Brooke. I’ve been meaning to deal with him for a while now, but I’ve been distracted with other stuff and pushed it down to the bottom of the pile. To hear about this shit going on without me knowing about it pisses me off.”

  “Will you fire him?” I ask concerned. I didn’t want to get him fired. “Yes. I just need to be careful how I do it. Unless someone is actually going to make a sexual harassment claim, I can’t just fire him. I’ll need to give him three written warnings and a two-week payout, but that is easy to do. I can just pick on the smallest mistakes to write him up on.”

  “Right.” I’m not sure what else to say. I still feel bad for bringing it up and now feel bad for possibly getting Paul fired. Just because he didn’t mesh well with me doesn’t mean he deserves to be out of a job. Harper’s office gossip isn’t enough to go on.

  “Don’t even question it, Brooke,” he says breaking through my thoughts.

  “What?” I look up to meet his gaze.

  “Don’t feel guilty. I have been meaning to get rid of him for months. He doesn’t fit in with us; I’m not sure what Nate saw in him.”

  “Why do you think I feel guilty?” I ask stubbornly, not wanting to admit he is right.

  “I can read you like a book. I know you better than you think,” he says smugly.

  I stare at him without having a response to his words, so I decide to pick up my fork and go back to enjoying my meal. He chuckles under his breath, and I choose to ignore him.

  His phone rings, breaking us from the silence which has descended.

  “Saxon Reed,” he answers. “Amber,” he says coldly. “I’m out.” Saxon turns away from me. “It’s none of your fucking business where I am or whom I’m with,” he whispers, but the hostility in his tone is so clear he may as well be screaming it across the restaurant. “Amber,” he warns, “this conversation is over.” He hangs up and abruptly tosses his phone back on the table before she even has a chance to respond.