A Love That Lasts

by Baker, Tory

  “Hmm, I have to admire you for that, but Callie, not a lot of women wouldn’t put their foot down and set boundaries.” Jamie hums, and I stand with my hand on my hip.

  “Thank you. I don’t want her to get attached to someone and them walk out of her life. Her father did that without even a second glance when she was born. Thank goodness she has never felt it, and I was able to make up for his shortcomings, but I can’t allow that to happen to her now at this age. So, while she may meet you given our new work schedule, you’re strictly my boss,” I state more to myself than to Jamie. The thing is, the more I come to learn about him, the more I seem to genuinely like him. Something that could be really bad.

  “I understand that. If I get the chance to meet her, I promise it will be just as your boss,” he says, but he murmurs under his breath afterward.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that a lot. So, I’m good to start next week. Well, the following Monday since it would be a Friday and make no sense to start up again?” I ask.

  “That works. Mom and I may call or text if we have questions. You have to promise me that, if I’m becoming a dick again, you’ll put me in my place. Believe me, Callie, I don’t want to run or ruin your life with work. It was a big wake up call.” Jamie comes around the bar top, doing something completely out of character. His finger traces the column of my neck, and his thumb goes to my pulse point, which is rapidly beating like a staccato to the fastest-paced merengue.

  “I’ll see you soon, and probably talk to you sooner. My mother is great and all, but she’s no Callie.” His fingers leave my neck, and I’m left standing in the kitchen, my mouth hanging wide open, asking myself what the hell just happened.

  “Uh… okay. See you later.” I wave like a loser as he walks toward the front door.

  “Lock the door behind me,” he tosses over his shoulder, walking out the front door. I get my rear in gear, locking the front door, then turn around and slide down on my butt, trying to put two and two together before I get started on working around the house. I only have a limited amount of time before it’s time to pick up Claira from school.

  “Get it together, Callie. This means nothing. It can’t possibly mean more than him being friendly,” I say out loud, fisting my hands in my hair. I should probably text the girls and let them know what happened, but I’m still having a hard time figuring it out myself.

  With that thought in mind, I get up to go about my day.

  10

  Jamie

  The curve ball I threw at Callie, I threw it at myself, too. Standing in her kitchen, while she is laying down the law with her daughter, protecting her with every ounce of her being—I felt it deep in my bones. She’s the type of woman you settle down with, marry, and have a couple more kids to go with Clairabella. She’s an extension of Callie, and from what I’ve seen so far, a smart little girl much like her Mom.

  I walk into the office with a smile on my face, one that mi Madre notices immediately.

  “Hello, Jamie. I take it from that smile on your face that things went well?” she asks. I bend down to kiss her on her cheek, she kisses mine, and then I straighten to my full height.

  “Yeah, Ma, they did, and much smoother than I thought. Of course, she’s taking the week off. Can you help me a bit longer? I have Callie’s number if you need help.”

  “Oh, my poor son. I’ve had her number all along. She and Clairabella frequent the boutique,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “Gee, Mom. Thanks for the heads up. It could have saved me a lot of trouble if you’d just given me the details.” I pinch the bridge of my nose; I swear if I keep doing that, my nose will be permanently bruised.

  “Too bad. You screw up; you fix it. Not me. Now, please, tell me everything.” She places her elbows on her desk, waiting, and I do as she says. Hell, she would wring my neck if I didn’t. I even tell her about the swear jar Clairabella got me for. She erupts in a fit of giggles.

  “It was definitely nice to see so many rallying around Callie and her daughter. I should have felt like an interloper, but I didn’t. They all gave me words of advice, and then Callie herself took my apology while thanking me. I couldn’t believe it.” I shake my head in disbelief, still.

  “She’s a very kind soul. My only hope is you don’t run her off again.”

  “That’s my goal, which reminds me, can you help me reschedule appointments? I’m changing my hours but not only to accommodate her. This has shown me that I need to adjust my ways, too,” I tell her.

  “Then, of course, I’ll help you. Go get to work, and I’ll do the same.” She goes to work on her computer.

  “Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to send a letter out to Human Resources about the upcoming changes in my department, and then I’ll work on the schedule as well.” I head to my office that’s situated behind her desk.

  “Yeah, yeah, get out of here, you rascal.” She laughs, and I just smirk. She’ll always give me hell.

  Walking into my office, I take it in, looking at all the bland colors in front of me, so unlike Callie’s home and her personality.

  I sit in my seat, trying to get my thoughts together, but my mind keeps wandering back to Callie and her daughter. Replaying everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours.

  “Damn,” I grumble to myself. I want Callie for more than just my assistant, and that’s a realization that came out of left field, too. I blame the way she got all fired up when she came to tell me she was quitting. Sure, I noticed her before, but not in this way. Not to mention, my mom is putting thoughts in my head.

  I log into my computer, type up an email to HR, and then start working on my schedule. I’m booked out for the next month, especially in the afternoons and late evenings. This is going to be a damn nightmare to finagle, so I pull my head out of my ass and get to it.

  “I’m ordering lunch in. Do you want anything?” Mom calls through the open door.

  “Sure, let me give you my card,” I offer. She starts mumbling under her breath about how she can afford lunch for her son in her native tongue. I don’t bother to respond.

  “Mom?” I grab her attention from the verbal rant she has going on.

  “What now?” she grouses.

  “You can buy lunch today. Don’t expect me to allow it all the time, though,” I tell her as I continue to scroll through my calendar.

  “Nice of you to let me know what I can and can’t do. You are lucky that I love you, Jamie Antonio Rodriquez.” I watch as she stands from her desk, opening drawers then slamming them all as she huffs and puffs.

  “I love you, Mom,” I tell her before she leaves.

  “I don’t know why I put up with you.” She waves over her shoulder, not looking back.

  I palm my phone, desperately wanting to text Callie, but she asked me not to bother her unnecessarily. I open up my contacts, hovering over the name she put in my phone. When I see it, I chuckle. “Fuck it,” I say to my empty office. Instead of calling her, though, I text her.

  Me: Thank you again for making this work between us.

  I wait to see if she responds. After a couple of minutes, I place the phone down on my desk, contemplating if that was too soon or if she’ll ignore me. I make my way through the rest of this month, seeing that meetings are done by two o’clock in the afternoon from here on out except one or two a month. A smile takes over my face; it’s going to be nice to be out of here at a much more normal time, yet I have no idea what in the hell I’ll do with it.

  Boss Babe: I see you’ve found your way around your phone already. You’re welcome, by the way.

  Me: Yeah, you could say that. Since you plugged “your name” in my phone, I’m secretly wondering what I am in your phone.

  Boss Babe: I’m pleading the fifth…

  Me: Sure, that’s what they all say. I’ll figure it out one day.

  Boss Babe: Only if you’re lucky.

  Me: I have a feeling I will be.

  Boss Babe: I have to go.
Claira is demanding to get in her recital dress.

  Me: Tell her good luck and have fun.

  Boss Babe: Maybe...

  I quit texting her after that, knowing she needs to get ready. I understood from the text she was apprehensive about bringing me around her daughter. That woman, she may not know it yet, but she’s got me by the hook.

  11

  Callie

  The past week has been amazing. In fact, it only solidified what I need to do for Claira and myself. I know she missed my parents and her aunties, so I begrudgingly gave her up tonight. I make a grocery list, a list of meals we’ll have for dinner this week, and I even make a list of what still needs to be done around the house.

  “When the hell did I become this person who writes all these lists?” I curl up the last two lists and throw them away. I do not need everything perfect. That’s not who I am, and it’s not who Claira is. Fine, I’ll say it, I’m bored. I’m twenty-five years old and bored on a Sunday afternoon because my daughter wanted to spend the night with her grandparents.

  I look down at my phone and see I have a text from Jamie. He’s messaged a few times throughout the week. Sometimes it would be about work, but more often than not, it was to see how I was doing. We talked about everything and nothing, but the one thing that he always did was ask how Clairabella was doing. It was disconcerting at first. I never brought her up at work, so for him to actively ask about her in a genuine capacity had my guard up. But he always made sure she and I were okay. Jamie is slowly peeling back my layers, and it scares me to my bones. He was a jerk for two years, and I’m not sure I can forgive him right away.

  Mr. Asshole: You’re never going to tell me what my name is in your phone, are you?

  Me: That would be a big negative.

  Mr. Asshole: One day, Callie. One day. What are you and Clairabella up to?

  Me: I’m up to nothing. My little rascal abandoned me for time with her Gran and Pop. What about you?

  Mr. Asshole: Sitting at the coffee shop down on Main Street. Care to join me?

  Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

  Mr. Asshole: Why? I promise I’ll even let you yell at me some more.

  I roll my eyes at his response. That would go over well, I’m sure.

  Me: You’re my boss. I’m your employee.

  Mr. Asshole: It’s just coffee between two friends?

  That has me rolling in laughter. I may have accepted his apology, but friends? I don’t think so.

  Me: Getting ahead of yourself, don’t you think?

  Mr. Asshole: Can’t blame a guy for trying, beautiful.

  “No way. No fucking way.” I drop my phone to the table, backing away like it’s hot lava. Jamie hasn’t noticed me in the two years I worked for him, and now he calls me beautiful. What in the actual hell? I’m left boggled; literally, I’m speechless. I pace the floors in the living room, straightening things that are already picked up because Claira made a mess of the pillows and blankets. Sure, her fort was super cute and fun to look at, but without her home, it’s not the same.

  I walk back to my phone a few minutes later, having no idea how to answer Jamie, so I do what any other girl would do when they need advice. I text my best friends.

  Me: 911! I repeat, this is a 911. Jamie asked me to grab coffee with him, and he called me beautiful. What the hell do I do? He’s my boss, the same one that made my life hell for two years.

  I wait to see what Presley or Lyla will say, to keep myself busy and not respond to Jamie. I place my list on the fridge, place the cups from breakfast in the dishwasher, and wipe the counters down again. I really do need a life.

  My phone beeps, letting me know I have a text, so I walk toward it slowly as if it can sense me coming near to it. When I look down, I see it’s Lyla. I let out a sigh of relief.

  Lyla: He screwed up, but he apologized times ten. He changed your work schedule, gave you a raise and more vacation than anyone would ever do. Pull on your big girl panties. Meet him for coffee.

  Presley: For real, I love you, but you’ve had the hots for him. Sure, his personality sucked for a bit, but this could be the turning point. Also, wear the strappy sundress. No jeans!!

  Me: Oh my gosh, fine. I’ll go, but keep your phones near you in case I need to send out an S.O.S.

  I place my phone back down on the kitchen table, make my way to my room, and change into a pair of black shorts, an oversized boyfriend t-shirt, and throw a jean jacket with it in case it gets cool. I know Presley said I should wear my sundress, but there is no way. It shows way more of my skin than I would like, especially in the chest area. Once I’m done, I do something I swore I would never do.

  I call Jamie, and he picks up on the first ring. “Hello, Callie.” His voice is deep and husky. I’m ashamed to admit, when his slight accent comes out to play, it causes shivers to go down my spine.

  “Hey, Jamie. Sorry it took so long. Do you still want to meet for coffee?” I ask, my toes drawing lines on the floor while I await his answer.

  “Yeah, Callie. I’d like that. I’m already here, so just come when you’re ready.”

  “I’m leaving the house now. It’ll take about ten to fifteen minutes to get there,” I respond while I throw on my sneakers, then I grab my purse, sling it over my shoulder, and open the door.

  “I’ll be here. Text me when you get here, and I’ll meet you at your car,” he states.

  “I can just meet you. No need to lose your table.” I don’t understand why he wants to meet me at my car.

  “Callie, I’m not letting you walk in the downtown area by yourself if I’m around.” Jamie’s voice has taken on a dominating quality.

  “Fine, I’ll call or text as soon as I park,” I huff out, locking my front door, and heading to my car.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

  “You’re not welcome, but I’ll see you soon as well,” I throw out my sass. I hear him chuckle before I hit the end button on my phone.

  I grumble the whole ride to the coffee shop, second-guessing my choice yet again.

  12

  Jamie

  Callie texted me when she got here. Truth be told, I was waiting for her to leave my text on read and not respond.

  I abandon my table, letting the waiter know I’ll be right back and not to give my table away. He acknowledges me, and I set off for Callie. My pace quickens as I reach the only parking lot our town square has. Our town may be small, but it still has crime like any other area.

  Callie is waving at me as if I can’t see her. The closer I get to her, the more I see the apprehension on her face, and that fucking guts me. I’m the only one to blame, and that hits me like a ton of bricks.

  “Hey, Jamie.”

  I take in her red hair that’s whipping in the wind, and a strand falls across her lips. How I’d love that to be my lips on hers. My thumb moves across her cheek. “Hey.” My voice isn’t my own. It’s taken on a timbre that I’ve never heard cross my own lips.

  Callie is dressed down more so than I’ve ever seen before. She’s on the taller side; in fact, the top of her head hits my collar bone. I want to bring her in closer but hold back. The one thing I don’t want to do is scare her off, losing her forever.

  “How long have you been here?” she asks.

  “An hour or so. With all this newfound time I have on my hands, I’m trying to navigate what to do with myself.” I place my hand on her elbow as we make our way to the coffee shop.

  “I know what you mean. I loved having this week off. It really helped Claira and I reconnect, not to mention all of the things I’ve let slip around the house, I was able to take care of. But once she left this morning, I was bored out of my mind.”

  We walk around the outside fence railing until we make it back to the table I secured.

  “At least you get to people watch with your table,” she remarks. I pull out a chair for her and wait ‘til she’s ready to push her chair in.

  “I do believe my view just a
rrived,” I say out loud as I take my seat. The blush that takes over her face travels down to the slope of her neck, leading to her chest.

  “Um... I’m not sure how to respond to that.” Callie grabs the menu on the table, covering her face.

  “I call it like I see it, Callie.” I take my seat as the waiter comes so we can place our order.

  Callie orders a hot vanilla latte with a cinnamon roll. I order my usual, a black coffee, choosing to doctor it up with cream at the table, and a blueberry muffin.

  “So, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?” I ask her. She’s watching the people walking down the sidewalk. When a couple walks by with a child sandwiched between them, holding on to the parents’ hands, she has a wistful look on her face. I can practically hear her thoughts. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy raising her daughter alone. I know she has friends and family that help without question, but does that really help ease the burden? Who’s there to take care of Callie when she needs a hug or someone to hold on to?

  “Did you say something? Sorry, I was lost in thought,” Callie replies.

  “I was asking if you have anything else going on today.”

  “Nope, but now that I’m out of the house, I may walk around for a bit.” Her face turns up in a smile.

  “Mind if I join you?” I invite myself without any qualms.

  “Not at all. Clothes shopping might be involved. Do you think you can handle that?” Her smile is wide, eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “I hear you’ve met my mom before, so I think you know I can handle shopping. No, it’s not my favorite thing, but something tells me you’ll make it enjoyable.”

  “There you go flirting again, Mr. Rodriquez.” She bats her eyelashes as if she doesn’t know she’s doing the same thing.