“I don’t want you,” Lucas called back. “I hate you.”
My phone rang again, and for a split second, I had this unbelievable hope that it was Helen, calling to tell me she had changed her mind and would come back soon.
But it was just a call from Anne, our nanny, letting me know she was on her way.
I hung up, and abandoned Lucas’s room after knocking on it a few more times.
Why do you hate me, Lucas?
Anne would make sure Lucas ate something and got to school on time. But even she had no luck getting Lucas to soften up to me.
When she came in, I spoke with her briefly, letting her know about Lucas’s mood. With a nod, she indicated to me that she would handle him—my cue to leave. Lucas would never step out of his room until I left the apartment.
I sighed, and with some relief that I was already dressed, I grabbed my wallet and stopped in front of Lucas’s door, calling, “Bye, Lucas. Have a good day.”
I heard him kick something in response, and I leaned my head against the door, feeling frustrated. I considered how ridiculous it sounded, saying goodbye through a closed door. I wanted to sayI love you, but I knew it would only anger him more because he didn’t believe I loved him.
How could I not love my son?
When I stepped into the elevator, I felt some relief at getting back in control. Thinking about work, clients, and meetings—situations where I could be in charge. Being with my son made me powerless, and I hated that.
Do I really not love my son? Is Lucas right in hating me?
There were a lot of people who hated me, and I was fine with that. But if Lucas hated me, it would mean I was no different from my mother. A woman who had made no effort to earn my love after leaving us. And I didn’t want to become my mom.
I closed my eyes for a split second and thought of Chloe Nichols, the only person who didn’t seem to fear me or hate me. Her memory calmed me down as the elevator descended.
How was it that the beautiful bride I’d seen weeks ago was now my very much unmarried assistant?
I recalled seeing her at work last Friday—in her black skirt and gray blouse, her lips parting with shock when she first set eyes on me. My gaze had lingered on her lips—very kissable,but not by me, of course—and on her clear eyes. Clear blue, but confused.
My eyes flew open when I realized what I was doing. I was savoring my memory of her, and savoring any memory of a woman was a red flag. After my divorce with Helen, one-night stands and flings were the only things I permitted myself to engage in. I’d let the months pass into years, never attempting to build a relationship at all. I wasn’t going to give another woman a chance to tell me I was bad at relationships—I already knew it. I had no relationship with my son and had ruined what I had with Helen. Who was I to ask for another chance at them?
Chloe was bad for me.
I opened my phone for a distraction, and no sooner had I checked my email than I found one from Chloe. It was a simple note that said she was glad for the opportunity to work for me and that she was always open to feedback. In her email, she included a P.S. noting that she’d bring chocolate chip cookies to the break room once she got to the office.
I groaned. Being around a woman that I could now bet everyone—including my grim HR—would fall in love with was going to be infuriating. I didn’t want her working for me.
Remembering my decision from last Friday to get her rehired into a different position, I checked my phone for potential jobs while Chris drove. He had been with me for ten years, and he could sense my mood and knew when to comment on the traffic or the weather and when to stay silent. I was grateful for his silence today.
For ten minutes, I searched, until I finally found one job that could work. It required zero work experience, she would be on the first floor, but the pay was even lower than what she would make as my assistant. The last bit wasn’t ideal, but I needed to act fast before this job was filled.
If I could just make her life miserable enough to get her to quit, I’d be in control again.
10
SEAN
My morning at work started like any other day. When the elevator pinged, I stepped in, noticing that quite a few of my employees were already here. The elevator was moderately full, but the crowd shuffled backward, making space for me. I gave them a stiff nod and got in, noticing someone simultaneously pressing the button for my floor.
A man to my left nervously began to speak. Going by his badge, he was a junior analyst, and he stammered, “Mr. Tassater, I’ve followed your career since the days of the garage start-up …” He trailed off, looking sheepish, when I raised an eyebrow.
I wasn’t ready for small talk so early in the day, not when my morning had been so rough and Chloe simply wouldn’t leave my mind. Thankfully, people got off soon on the lower floors, and I was alone for the elevator’s last bit of ascent to my floor.
When I got off on the thirty-fifth floor, I walked up to my assistant’s desk and found Chloe already seated at Amelia’s desk.
I did a double take even though I’d been mentally thinking about her on my ride here. She looked unnecessarily lovely. Her short blonde hair was held back from her face with a few clips,and she was dressed in a chic blue skirt and white blouse that reminded me of her curves underneath. I caught myself right away and reined in my thoughts before they brought to mind my dream from last night.