Happily Letter After

by Keeland, Vi

  She took a few steps and started to walk toward my desk.

  Maybe it was the wine, but my heart started to beat out of my chest. I attempted to lift my eyes to her face, and this time it worked. Well, sort of. They raised, but unfortunately, they snagged on her chest.

  What are those, C cups?

  Nice.

  Very nice.

  I bet her cleavage gets really sweaty doing that yoga.

  Hot sweat dripping down from between her luscious round tits to that belly button.

  By the time I managed to drag my eyes up enough to meet hers, Sadie was standing right in front of my desk.

  She rocked back and forth ever so slightly. “What are you doing, Sebastian?”

  Our eyes locked, and the wicked hint of a smirk made me think she’d just heard all my thoughts. I swallowed. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing, huh? So you’re just sitting there . . . looking around, then?” The corner of her lips tilted upward.

  What a smart-ass.

  She knew exactly what I was doing.

  I straightened up in my chair and cleared my throat.

  “If you’re done. You can show yourself out.”

  “Is that what you’re sitting there thinking about? How much you want me to . . . leave?”

  A knock at my office door made me blink a few times.

  I was thoroughly confused when I looked over and saw Sadie pop her head into my office.

  What the . . . ?

  Wasn’t she . . . ?

  I glanced to where I could’ve sworn she’d just been standing. It took a few seconds to snap out of it and realize that I must’ve dozed off from the wine and had been dreaming.

  Jesus.

  Sadie smiled. “We’re all done. Why don’t I walk Birdie down to her sleepover for you, since I’ll be heading out anyway?”

  “Umm. Yeah. That would be great. Thank you. Let me go say good night to her.”

  I walked out to the living room. Birdie was already standing there with her backpack on, a pillow and sleeping bag in her hands. “Looks like you’re all ready.” I squatted down to her level. “How about a hug for your old man.”

  My daughter threw her arms around my neck with a huge smile. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

  “Marmaduke did great today! When Sadie clicks the clicker, he sits now.”

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded.

  “Alright.” I gave a gentle tug to her ponytail. “Why don’t you get going to your party.”

  Birdie turned to start to walk away but then ran back to me. Her tiny hand cupped my cheek. “I’m right down the block if you need me.”

  My heart squeezed and I smiled. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

  She kissed me one more time and then skipped off toward the door.

  “Anything you want me to tell the parents?” Sadie asked.

  “No. I’ll text Renee and check in later.”

  “Okay.” Apparently that nap and my ensuing fantasy had done me some good. I managed to have a civil conversation with Sadie and didn’t eye fuck her like I’d done in that dream. Though when she turned around to follow Birdie to the front door, I just couldn’t help checking out her ass in those yoga pants again. I mean, it was right there, so in my face. What man in his right mind wouldn’t take a peek?

  “Oh, I almost forgot . . .” Sadie turned around, and my eyes jumped to meet hers.

  Fuck.

  She caught me.

  If I hadn’t been sure I’d just gotten busted, the knowing smirk Sadie flashed would have confirmed she knew what I’d done.

  She didn’t even bother to try to hide it. Extending her hand, she held out the clicker. “This is yours.”

  I looked away as I took it from her hand. “Great. Thanks.”

  After she walked out, I hung my head behind the closed door.

  God, you’re a jackass, Maxwell. You need to get laid.

  Since I had the night all to myself, maybe that’s exactly what I should do. I’d been talking to this woman Irina for a while, a busy advertising executive who I’d met online and who was seeking the exact same type of arrangement as I was. But I had blown her off for the last few weeks. Maybe it was time to get back in touch.

  As I walked back to my office where I kept my laptop, I tried to psych myself up.

  Irina.

  She was sexy.

  Long red hair.

  A woman who knew what she wanted.

  That’s exactly what I needed.

  Yeah, that’s it.

  I’m definitely going to see what Sadie’s doing tonight.

  Irina. I mean Irina.

  Reaching my desk, I decided to pour another glass of wine before jumping online to see if Irina might be available.

  I sat down and sipped but decided to shut my eyes once again. I needed a moment to clear my head.

  But instead of gaining clarity, visions of Sadie flooded my mind.

  Again.

  She was so damn sexy.

  That ass.

  That flat stomach.

  That sparkly freaking diamond.

  Her big, beautiful eyes.

  And that mouth. The way the corners turned up when she’d caught me checking out her ass . . . Jesus . . . what I wouldn’t give to fuck that mouth.

  I laughed at myself and opened my eyes.

  Good thing she was gone. Because God knows what dumb thing I would’ve done tonight. The woman had me losing my mind.

  I took another big swig of my wine and opened my laptop.

  Just as the doorbell rang . . .

  CHAPTER 16

  SADIE

  He opened the door, and my mind went blank. Turning around and ringing the bell had been a split-second decision. I just hadn’t wanted to leave. The problem was, I probably should’ve thought up an excuse as to why I came back before I did it.

  Sebastian’s breathing quickened with every second that he took me in. “Everything okay?”

  I swallowed but continued to blank out.

  What was I supposed to say? I couldn’t tell him the truth: I saw you checking me out and thought you might be interested in touching me, too?

  He broke the ice. “Is this the part where I assume you’re the dog trainer and scold you for being late? Feels like déjà vu right now. Me opening the door and you looking stunned.” He flashed a crooked smile, which calmed me down a bit.

  I laughed nervously.

  He gestured with his head. “While you’re figuring it out, why don’t you come in? It was so warm today, but it’s getting chilly now.”

  I brushed my hands over my arms. “Thanks.”

  Marmaduke ran to the door and began to jump all over me. Not exactly the man I wanted on me right now.

  Thankfully, he calmed down pretty quickly before heading to the corner of the room to hump a stuffed toy.

  Yeah. You’re not the only one all worked up tonight, buddy.

  Sebastian just stared at me, still in need of an explanation as to why I’d suddenly returned.

  Jesus Christ. Grow some balls, Sadie. You’re a dating-advice columnist, for Christ’s sake, and you can’t seem to remember how to act around a man you’re attracted to.

  “I came back because I wondered if you might want some company tonight,” I blurted.

  Sebastian placed his hands in his pockets, looking less than comfortable with my proclamation.

  His reaction made me panic a little, so I tried to laugh it off. “That’s stupid, right? You probably have plans. If so, I can just lea—”

  “Do you like white or red?” he suddenly said.

  It took a few seconds for his question to sink in. He was referring to wine.

  I’m in?

  “Actually, the red you were drinking looked really good.”

  “Be right back,” he said.

  I fidgeted as Sebastian went back into his study, returning to the living room with the bottle and his glass. He placed them
on the coffee table before venturing into the kitchen.

  After he returned, I watched as he poured me a large glass before emptying the remainder of the bottle into his own.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  I sat down on one end of the sofa. Then he proceeded to sit all the way at the other end at the farthest spot away from me.

  I took a sip of my drink and said, “So, what were your plans tonight if I hadn’t weaseled my way into your evening?”

  His lips twitched. “I hadn’t quite figured it out.”

  “It’s probably rare that Birdie’s not home.”

  “Yeah. I think she’s only had one other sleepover before this.”

  Sebastian looked exceptionally good tonight. He was dressed more casually than normal. A navy T-shirt clung to his broad chest. He wore jeans, and his feet were bare. He had large, beautiful feet—if a man’s feet could even be considered beautiful. Well, he and his feet were totally beautiful in every way.

  “Did I step in something?” he asked.

  Shit. He’d caught me.

  “Oh, no. I was just . . . admiring your feet.”

  I cringed. Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that.

  “Thank you.” He wrinkled his forehead. “I think?” Sebastian rested his arm on the back of the sofa and continued to stay in his corner of the couch. “So where exactly do you go to work out, Sadie?”

  “I do a forty-five-minute yoga class a few times a week. It’s near my place.”

  “Nice. I probably should be taking up something like that for stress relief.”

  “It’s excellent for stress relief . . . but I do it for flexibility.”

  He cleared his throat. “So you’re . . . flexible?”

  “Very.” I’d been intentionally self-assured in my answer on that one. “Today she had us practice this pose where your legs go back over your head.”

  He looked like he almost wanted to spit out his wine. “That sounds very . . . adventurous. What’s that called . . . downward dog? Dogs are your thing.” He winked.

  I chuckled. “No. Downward dog is a front-facing exercise. She had us bend our legs back and over our head. It’s called plow pose.”

  His eyes widened. “You’re bending your legs over your head and it’s called plow pose?”

  The irony in that terminology only now just hit me.

  He has a dirty mind. I love it.

  “I guess it’s a waste of a skill, considering nothing has been happening in that arena.”

  Sebastian said nothing as he downed the last of his wine. Then he lifted the bottle. “More wine?”

  “I’ll have a refill, yeah. Thanks.”

  “This bottle is empty. Want to try something else, or shall I open another bottle of cab?”

  “I really liked that one. What’s it called?”

  He went to check the label, and I could’ve sworn I saw his face turn red. Apparently he hadn’t realized the name until now.

  He wouldn’t say.

  “Well?” I prodded.

  “It’s called . . . Pornfelder.” He laughed awkwardly as he opened the bottle and refilled our glasses.

  I couldn’t help but laugh myself. “What a name.”

  “Sounds like someone made it up. Sort of like flunkerbsht.”

  My face felt numb from embarrassment. “Ah, yes.”

  He raised his glass. “You should trademark that, by the way.”

  He drank some more of his wine, and when the glass left his mouth, I noticed his eyes travel down to my navel and back up again. I loved noticing him looking at me. He immediately started a new topic of conversation to divert from the fact that I’d caught him staring at my belly ring.

  “So you never told me how you got into writing.”

  I repositioned myself in my seat, making myself a bit more comfortable. “Well, I was a journalism major in college, but for many years, I never did anything with my degree, just worked odd jobs. At one point, I took an internship with the company that owns my magazine, and the reporter I worked under let me dabble in writing some of the articles. Eventually, I was hired as a general staff writer, and I’ve bounced around various departments ever since. The Holiday Wishes column has stuck with me for years, but my main writing assignments have changed a few times. I did articles on business etiquette for a few years and then switched to writing the Beauty Basics column. Writing about makeup got boring pretty fast.”

  “But you’ve been doing the dating column for a while, right?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “For a few years. That one stuck. They seem to think I’m the right fit for it, and it’s become pretty popular.”

  “Well, I can see why. Women must love to live vicariously through a beautiful, successful woman living in the city. It’s like that show my mother used to watch . . . the one with the girl from Hocus Pocus.”

  That made me crack up. “Sarah Jessica Parker, yeah. Sex and the City. Although I’m more like the poor girl’s Carrie Bradshaw.”

  He seemed to be almost looking through me when he said, “You blow all those chicks out of the water.”

  My entire body filled with heat. He’d just complimented me, and I had no clue how to handle it. I basically just wanted to jump him—but didn’t think that would go off too well.

  “Do you see yourself staying at that job?” he asked.

  “As much as I might complain, I really do enjoy it. Couldn’t really imagine myself with a typical nine-to-five.”

  “What happens if you find someone you want to spend your life with? Do you still do the dating column?”

  His question made my heart flutter a little. “I’m not betting on that with my luck . . . but if it were to happen, then I wouldn’t do the dating column. It has to be organic. If my heart belonged to someone else, what would be the point in faking it out there? It wouldn’t work, and it wouldn’t be fair to my partner, either.”

  “So you’d ask for a reassignment?”

  His curiosity on the topic gave me what was probably a delusional sense of hope. “Yes. I’d probably just write in one of the other departments if they’d have me.”

  “Like the Santa column . . .” He smiled. For the first time, I noticed he had subtle dimples.

  “That’s seasonal, so it wouldn’t cover me for the whole year . . . but that one I’ll stick with regardless, as long as they’ll have me. It’s so gratifying.”

  “I’m happy you love your job,” he said.

  “Yeah, you know, because the dog-training thing . . . well, that’s not going anywhere.”

  He chuckled. “Exactly.”

  I finished off my wine and sighed. “Things could always be worse, you know? I’m not exactly where I thought I’d be at almost thirty. But I’m fortunate to be happy overall, healthy, and to have one part of my life right—my career.”

  “And the other parts?”

  “Well, I always thought I’d be settled by this age, maybe have a child. I’m not sure if that’s in the cards for me.”

  He stared at me for a few moments, then said, “But you want it? You want the family, the house, the dog . . .”

  Without hesitation, I said, “I do . . . but only if it’s with the right person.”

  He nodded and seemed to be deep in thought. I wondered if he was thinking about Amanda, how he had had all those things at one time . . . the house, the family, the beautiful wife. But now she was gone. None of it really came together without your significant other, the one you love. And not having her around meant that he had to be both the mother and father to Birdie, which couldn’t have been easy, given his demanding job.

  “Are you okay, Sebastian?” I felt compelled to ask. “I’m not referring to this moment, but I mean . . . in a general sense, handling the single-dad thing?”

  “You mean, am I just pretending to hold it all together while really being depressed inside?” He stared off. “Honestly? Sometimes. But I make sure I keep going so fast that I don’t get swallowed up by the depression part. It’s just
there in the background.”

  I gulped, not sure what to say. “It must be hard to move on when you had such a great marriage. I know it was hard for my dad.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Birdie thinks her mom and dad had the perfect marriage. But my wife and I had our fair share of struggles. When my daughter was two, we actually separated for a while.”

  My eyes widened. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. I’d thought he had the perfect little family. “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “Obviously, my daughter doesn’t know. And I’d really like to keep it that way.”

  “Of course. I’d never say anything to her.” I shook my head. “Can I ask what happened?”

  “I’m going to need more wine for this.” Sebastian refilled his glass and poured me another. Sighing, he said, “The restaurant took a while to become what it is today. We both worked a lot of hours, had a new baby. We put all our energy into the business and our daughter, and I guess at the end of the day, we didn’t have enough left to give our relationship the focus it needed. I’m partly to blame for that. But . . .” Sebastian sipped his wine. “I guess my wife needed someone to talk to about something other than money problems or diapers. And, well, she got close to a waiter at the restaurant. One night, they had a little too much to drink, and they got a little too close.”

  “Oh God. I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “We tried to go to counseling, but I couldn’t seem to get past it. So after a few months, we separated. I moved out and got a small apartment nearby so I could still be near my daughter. We were just starting to adjust to living on our own when Amanda found out during a routine exam that her ovarian cancer was back. It put things into perspective. I’d never stopped loving my wife, and she needed me.”

  “So you got back together?”

  He nodded. “We had good years after that. But Amanda always thought the only reason that I made things work was because of her cancer diagnosis.”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  Sebastian smiled sadly. “I don’t know how things would have worked out had she not gotten sick. But it doesn’t matter. Sometimes in life you need a little push to get where you should be. Her illness was my push. We made it work, and I was in awe of the strength she had, watching her fight every day. I have a lot of guilt that she died thinking I only stuck around because she was sick.” He shook his head. “I did love her. I really did.”