Am I cynical? Yes.
But afraid? Absolutely not.
I’ll prove it to Zahra. I’m willing to put myself
out there and be rejected if it shows her I don’t need to hide behind a mask. The person I was around her is the same guy I am today, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t have a reason to doubt me. She’s the first person I let down some of my walls for. Not even my brothers know me like she does, so I’m not about to walk away because she challenged me.
I sigh. Tonight didn’t go close to plan at all. The way Zahra reacted to my hidden identity was anything but ideal. I might have been too optimistic about the potential outcome, expecting her to forgive me because she understood where I was coming from. But I didn’t have a real chance to explain my past and why I would be hesitant to begin with. And honestly, there’s a part of me that wonders if it’s even worth exposing myself like that at the risk of Zahra not forgiving me.
I need to regroup and plan what to do next. Instead of working until late, I wrap up for the night and go home to work out, take a shower, and eat a quick dinner. By the time I drop onto my bed, it’s a quarter past midnight.
I pull out my phone and check my emails. The typical pattern I’ve fallen back into tonight feels emptier than usual. I’ve gotten used to Zahra’s incessant texting and our bedtime conversations about everything under the sun.
I place my phone on my nightstand and turn on the news, hoping to bore myself to sleep.
My phone vibrates, making my heart pound faster in my chest in response. Did Zahra regret what she said in my office?
I swipe my phone off my nightstand. A heavy weight presses against my chest at the message from the group chat I share with my brothers.
Declan: Father received his own letter. It’s official.
Cal follows up with a bunch of curse words.
Shit. I had a feeling he received something, so the news doesn’t surprise me as much as it should. I’m more curious about what the letter said because my father’s relationship with Grandpa had been strained since Mom died. The only reason Father took over as CEO after Grandpa’s accident was because Declan was still too young according to Grandpa’s will.
Me: Did you find out what it said?
Declan: Nothing to report yet. We should keep tabs on anything he does that we consider out of character for him. Cal: Do you want the short or long list?
Declan: You both spoke?
Cal: He called me last week out of the blue.
Me: What did he say?
Cal: He asked if I needed help. ME.
Cal: Wonder who I should thank for that awkward conversation? Jim, Jack, or Johnnie?
Declan: I warned you what would happen if you got out of control again.
Not this again. Declan already forced Cal into rehab during college. It’s the trigger point that pushed their already weakening relationship to its breaking point. Declan might have done it out of a place of love for our brother, but Cal has never gotten over it.
Me: Did he ask you anything about your letter?
Maybe he was trying to prey on Cal because he thought he could get the best answers out of him. They’ve always had the better relationship out of us three.
Cal: No. I don’t think he knows about ours.
Declan: Let’s keep it that way.
Good. One less obstacle in my way. The thought of going back to Chicago usually eases my discomfort, but it only adds to my already upset stomach. For the first time, it doesn’t feel like an easy choice anymore, and I’m not sure what to make of that.
 |
My first idea to get Zahra’s attention is through her love of food. It’s worked in the past, so I might as well put my theory to good use.
I find her right where I want her—in her cubicle without any Creators around us.
She stares at her computer before typing away in a blank document.
I drop the paper bag on her desk. “I come bearing an apology dinner.”
She slides the bag to the corner of the desk without bothering to look away from her screen. “I’m not interested.”
She continues clicking away at her computer. I grind my teeth together, unsure how to get her attention if she won’t even look at me. Food should have had some effect on her, especially if she’s hungry. Yet, it seems to only work if she actually wants my company.
“How about some apology cupcakes I made myself? Ani gave me her recipe.” I grab the plastic container out of the bag and place it closer to her.
Okay, fine. Ani baked them under my supervision but whatever.
She looks over at me. Her eyes remain glued to my face. “Are you here for work-related reasons?”
I frown at the coldness of her tone. “No.” “Then get out. I don’t want to talk to you.”
Shit. This version of Zahra is new. I think it’s worse than how she reacted after I made my stupid comments about her mentorship program.
“At least give me a chance to explain. I didn’t go about things the right way the first time, but I have a reason.”
“There’s no reason in the world that is good enough.” She stands, grabs the bag of food, and shoves it in my arms. She tucks the container of cupcakes on top of the Chinese food, watching to make sure she doesn’t ruin the icing. I don’t deserve that niceness, but she gives it to me anyway because she’s just that damn good.
I’m nothing but screwed up—both in my actions and in my way of thinking.
I hate the glare she sends my way. I’m more interested in making her smile, and I feel extra shitty that I’m the
reason behind her anger.
If only you had confessed sooner…
“Zahra, I shouldn’t have lied about Scott. I used him as a way to—”
My voice is cut off by her packing up her backpack and shutting off her computer. “Where are you going?”
She doesn’t bother to look at me. “I’m going home.
Maybe you should do the same.”
I want to tell her that home is just another empty place that makes me miserable. But I don’t have a chance to say a single word as she exits the cubicle, leaving me standing there with a bag filled with untouched takeout food and this void feeling in my chest.
|
“So let’s say someone hypothetically hurt your sister.” “Oh no.” Ani presses a hand against her head.
I readjust my position on the bench so I can get a good look at her. “What?”
“You’re the one who hurt my sister?” “No.” Yes. But how does she know that?
“I knew she was upset!” Ani jumps up from the bench and starts pacing.
I bristle. “What do you mean?”
“Because she canceled on us for dinner. She only misses family time when she’s sad or sick.”
Fuck. That’s the last thing I want. “I messed up.” Ani rolls her eyes. “I see.”
“How can I fix it?” “Depends on what you did.”
Am I really going to confess my issues to Ani to understand her sister better?
Yeah, I guess I am. “Well, it started with a bad idea.” I go off, explaining every decision I made up until this point
about Zahra. The more I rehash, the worse I feel about it. Ani’s facial expressions don’t help.
“What? Say something.”
She shrugs. “She really liked Scott. I heard her talk about him to Claire.”
I wince. “Help me come up with an idea on how to get her back and I’ll owe you anything.”
“Anything?” I nod.
Ani tucks her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. If she thinks you’re like Lance, she might never give you another chance.”
I’m not going to even entertain that option. “Okay.
That’s fair. But if you were me, what would you do?”
“Easy. Give her a reason to trust you. A really good reason.” Ani answers me like it’s the simplest idea in the world.
Except I have no idea how to get someone to trust me.
I’ve never had a reason to do so.
“How do I do that? She doesn’t believe anything I say.” “You’re a smart guy. Figure it out.”
|
I peer inside Zahra’s cubicle. If she feels my gaze on her, she ignores it. The only way I can tell my presence bothers her is based on her tiny frown.
I step into the forbidden zone and take a seat on the corner of her desk. Her eyes narrow at her paper. Today’s pin looks like the seventies threw up, with the groovy flower power text surrounded by flowers. It matches her retro-inspired vintage T-shirt and bell-bottom jeans. I haven’t seen Zahra match her outfit to her pin before but it’s cute.
“We need to talk.”
Her only response is the crinkling of the pages beneath her tense fingers. The silence grows between us to an uncomfortable level.
“It’s considered rude to ignore your boss.” Her jaw ticks.
I peek over at the paper she has in her hands and read the title. No way.
I rip the application out of her hands.
She spins in her chair and stares at me head-on. “Give it back.”
“No.”
Her nostrils flare. “You’re acting like a child.”
Am I? I’m too far gone to care as I shred the paper into four parts. She blinks at me like I’ve gone crazy. And honestly, maybe I have, but she can’t seriously be considering this alternative. I won’t allow it.
“You’re not quitting.” I dump the job resignation application in the trash bin underneath her desk. Because I’m a bastard, I make sure my fingers skim her body. Despite her skin being blocked by a pair of jeans, her soft inhale of breath tells me everything.
No matter the time, place, or circumstance, Zahra is attracted to me. Nothing she says or does will tell me otherwise. While I might have messed up, I’m done giving her time to think things over.
She crosses her arms. “You can’t force me to stay here.”
“I could.”
She gapes at me. “No. Things are getting too complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate them.”
“I can’t simply shut off my feelings and carry on with life like none of this happened.” She gestures between us with a slight frown.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The thought makes my heart squeeze uncomfortably in my chest.
“You lied about who you were for months. I felt guilty for being interested in two different guys while you knew the entire time who I was. That’s cruel.” Her voice cracks.
My entire body responds to the way her eyes shine from unshed tears. Her reaction is nothing close to something I’m equipped to deal with. I don’t know the first thing about working through someone else’s emotions, least of all when I’m the cause of all the hurt.
I reach out for her hand, wanting to break through her cold exterior. She takes a deep inhale as she rolls her chair as far away as it can go.
Her rejection stings more than I care to admit. I hate the distance between us. We didn’t spend months getting to know each other for her to pull away like this.
“Give me one chance to explain myself. If you’re not convinced that I’m sorry”—my voice drops out of habit
—“then I won’t bother you about this again. I’ll let you quit.”
“Really?” Her entire face lights up.
Her excitement only emboldens me to prove her wrong. “With severance and everything.”
She nods. “Okay. One try. I mean it.”
Her enthusiasm is bordering on insulting. When I told her I had a competitive streak, I meant it. She’s not getting away. I only need to find out how to keep her.
“Perfect.” I hold my hand out to shake on it.
Zahra grabs my extended hand. My skin sparks with the same feeling whenever she touches me. I trace her delicate fingers with my thumb before letting go. She tries to hide her shudder and fails.
“I’ll see you tonight.” I can’t let her build her walls any higher. Giving her more time will only add to her skepticism about my intentions. I might like a challenge but I’m no fool.
“Tonight?!” she squeaks.
I tuck my hands in my pockets to avoid doing something crazy like touching her. “First rule of business—always discuss the terms before agreeing.”
