“You already told me that,” I tease, “and it looks like you survived.” A smile tugs at my lips.
He shakes his head and leans back in his chair, propping his right leg over his left knee.
“I know I can survive without you, Gracie, but maybe I don’t want to.” His forefinger traces the outline of the manila folder and I remember that finger tracing every curve of my body.
I pinch my eyes closed, pushing back the memory. “I missed you too,” I begrudgingly admit and inhale a sharp breath.
He grins at my admission. “Tonight, you’re staying with me.” It’s a statement, not a request.
I don’t even bother arguing with him. I simply nod. Good thing I packed an extra outfit in my bag for the rain.
“Good, now that we’ve agreed to that,” he starts and can’t stop smiling. He slides the folder in front of me. His face drops into something more serious.
“What is this?” I question, resting my palm flat on top of the envelope.
“Options.”
“What kind of options?” The folder is about a half-inch thick and I trail my fingers across the cover to the edge to open it.
“Options that will hopefully help you.”
Oh, Jesus, what has he done? I flip the folder open and see page after page of loan companies listing terms, payment amounts, and interest rates. My stomach drops when I see the amount of information he’s collected and presented to me. Work I’ve been too intimidated, too afraid to do.
“Drew—” I start, but my voice breaks as my eyes scan the pages of information.
“Listen,” he begins, his voice quiet and steady. “It’s just for you to look at. You don’t need to make any decisions today.” He clears his throat and reaches out his hand, resting it on my forearm. “These are legitimate companies that won’t take advantage of you. All I did was compile the information. That’s where my help will end unless—”
“No!” I snap at him nervously. “This is perfect.” I shuffle the papers back into the folder and slap the folder closed. “Thank you.” My voice is clipped, abrupt.
“—unless you need me,” he finishes his sentence hesitantly. He knows I don’t want to talk about this with him. “I can co-sign, I can help—”
“You’ve done enough already. Thank you.” I just want to end this conversation. All of this makes me so uncomfortable and it’s embarrassing. “I should really get back to work,” I tell him as I stand up, hoping to make a fast exit.
He nods, but not before reaching out and clasping his hand around my wrist. “Tonight,” he says softly, a gentle reminder this conversation isn’t changing my agreement to stay with him tonight. I nod quickly and get the hell out of his office as fast as I can.
I spend the rest of my afternoon doing my best to get through emails, the media proposal, and three conference calls, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been distracted by the folder from Drew sitting dead center on my desk. I thumb through the pages over and over, wondering how he was able to collect so much information so quickly. I rub my forehead as I think about it, but then I remember who he is. He has access to the best of everything—accountants, financial advisors, and bankers. I’m sure he made a call and, bam, this is what I got.
While I’m thankful, I’m also humiliated. I hate that someone else knows about my situation, even though it was my choice to tell him. The loan information on the documents lists the exact amount of debt I have, having grown by the tens of thousands since I last checked. Fucking interest.
I rest my head in my hands and fight back tears. Angry tears. Angry at everyone and everything. Rationally, I know that’s fucked up, because this is my own doing.
“You okay?” His voice is concerned and quiet. I glance at him quickly as he looks around to see if anyone is nearby, and fortunately, no one is around.
I want to tell him no. I feel nauseous. I want to cry and scream and make it all disappear, but this is what my life is.
I raise my head and look at him. “I will be,” I muster out. “It’s just overwhelming.”
Drew chooses not to say anything, and for once, I’m grateful for his silence. Nothing he could say would make me feel better in this moment. He’s done so much in just getting me the information I need to get me on a better financial path and that means more to me than I can even express.
Drew steps in closer to me, but not so close that it’s inappropriate in a work environment. “It’s five thirty. I’ve wrapped up everything important on my to-do list. Shut down and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes. Tony is waiting on the corner of Forty-Seventh Street. I’ll be in the car waiting for you.”
I don’t have the energy to argue, so I nod my head as my eyes fill with tears.
“Hey,” he whispers. “I promise you everything is going to be just fine.”
I want so badly to believe him. Taking a deep breath, I let his words sink in. Drew squeezes my shoulder in a gesture of comfort before heading back to his office. I see his office lights shut off before he makes his way to the elevator. After firing off one last client email, I gather my belongings, shoving the folder in my large shoulder bag next to my purse.
Jamie is still in a client meeting that should have ended almost an hour ago, so I scribble a quick message to her on a sticky note and leave it on her desk. I stop by the restroom to freshen up before heading downstairs. From the lobby, I can see the rain still falling heavily. I pull my shitty broken umbrella from my bag and wave to Cloyd on my way out.
Just as Drew said, Tony and his Town Car wait on the corner of Forty-seventh Street. As I jog over to it, the back door opens and Drew steps out, allowing me to slide in.
“That was quick,” he remarks.
“I’m so over today,” I tell him, fighting to close my broken umbrella. He pulls it from my hands, and in one swift movement, gets the damn thing closed. Despite wanting to hug him, it makes me exasperated. There isn’t anything this man can’t do perfectly.
“Then let’s get you home.”
Home. I’ve known Drew for less than a week, but when he says that word, it resonates deep within me. He is my safe space right now. He is my comfort…he is my home. I swallow hard against my dry throat at this thought, but I allow it to comfort me instead of pushing it away.
Even though we’re only going a few short blocks, it takes us over a half hour in rainy Manhattan rush hour traffic. Drew is sending emails from his phone, and I sink into the plush back seat of the Town Car, enjoying the silence. Something about the dark sky, the rain, and the quiet is soothing me.
We arrive at the Four Seasons and Drew ushers us straight up to the room. Once inside, he takes my jacket and my bag and orders me to the couch, where he tosses me the remote control and a blanket. It’s like he’s figured me out in a few short days.
“Dinner is on the way,” he says, kicking off his shoes before joining me on the couch. “What’s our poison tonight? HGTV? Chip and Johanna?”
“God, I love you.” I chuckle, then my whole body stiffens as I realize what I’ve said. “Because you get me,” I say quickly. “I love that you know I need HGTV and food to make me feel better.”