I drop down into the chair in the meeting room where another video is playing. This time, it’s Mr. Glasson himself on the screen. The room is dark and the only light comes from the projected screen on the wall. There’s a girl behind me smacking her gum and I’d love to turn around and ask her to kindly spit it out because the sound is driving me fucking crazy, but I don’t.
I’ve had to force myself through so much in my life that I can easily handle her annoying habit.
I won’t quit this job. I’ll keep working until I find something with more pay—even though the pay here is pretty substantial. I can live comfortably off it for a while. Lord knows, I’m not taking a damn penny from my family. I was shamed and belittled at a time when I needed them the most. The only person I care to even talk to anymore is my sister. It’s crazy how two very cold people can raise such a sweet and caring person—my sister, that is. Certainly not me. I might not be as callous as my parents, but I did inherit their stubbornness. At least I’ll admit it.
Look at this guy on the screen. Talking about how perfect his life is. Saying his kids are his world and he built this company for them. This video must have been made before his son started working here and got a stick shoved up his ass. Or before his daughter ruined a family over a temporary affair.
I am many things, but I always own my ugly side. I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not, and personally, I can’t stand people who do.
Finally, the video ends and we’re dismissed for lunch. I opt for the cafeteria and get a ham sandwich on wheat and a bottle of water. Of course, it’s Glasson brand water. Once I take a seat at an empty table in the cafeteria, I twist the top off and take a sip. I will admit that the water is crisp and clean. They have good quality bottles, and the designs are on point. It’s no surprise that this company does so well. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m not a fan of upper management, I might stick around. Maybe climb the corporate ladder. Mia said she’s only a temp, so she won’t be here permanently. If I can just get through her short-term placement by avoiding her, it might not be so bad here.
I toss my trash in the garbage can by the door and exit the cafeteria. On the bright side, the day is half over. We’re doing eight-hour shifts of training this week, which is a nice way to ease back into the workforce. Definitely beats the twelve-hour days I used to put in. Though, I can’t help but feel like a kid just out of high school, doing this training garbage and these short shifts. I’m twenty-nine years old and should be established in a career at this point in my life. Should have kids. A wife. A home. Instead, I’m living in a hotel until I can find a place to rent and eating take out every night. I’m the average bachelor. Even if it’s not what I want. I’d give anything to get her back—my life, my home, my bed. Feeling her in my arms every night. Even at the end, she still fit perfectly in them.
My heart aches. Anger slowly begs to take over, but I don’t let it. I push it away and go back into the meeting room.
Taking the same seat I’ve had all morning, I pull out my phone. There’s a new text from my dad that I delete without reading it. I already know it’ll say something along the lines of ‘quit being a stubborn ass and get back here where you belong.’ Nothing anyone says will ever make me go back there. I might have carried my misery here with me, but at least I’m free to make my own choices now.
I’d rather be poor and happy than be rich and miserable. Materialistic things are just that—things. Don’t need them. All I need is a place to sleep, food, and a fresh start.
Taylor’s heavy on my mind as I walk out of the training room. It’s nothing new, but as days turned into weeks and weeks to months, she began to slip further and further away. It was getting to the point where she came and went in a matter of minutes, instead of living there twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week.
Ever since the morning I woke up to Mia in my room, the guilt about feeling something for another woman has sat on my chest like an elephant. It wasn’t even the sex or her body lying flush with mine while she slept peacefully. It was the minutes before she walked out the door. I watched her searching the room for her clothes when she didn’t know I was awake. The urgency in her movements, the look on her face before she left. That brief pause that shot bolts of electricity into my consciousness. I was aware—vulnerable and completely cut open.
The guilt could also be attributed to the fact that I haven’t stopped thinking about Mia since that morning. There was never supposed to be any woman who made me feel things other than lust.
I never could have guessed we’d cross paths again. Now, I wish we never had.
Lost in my thoughts, I smash right into someone–or rather, they smash into me. Typing away on her phone, she lifts her head. “Sorry,” she says, before looking back at her phone. Until she does a double take. “Sawyer. Hi.” Soft eyes beam into mine and I hate the feeling of her on the verge of seeing my soul with just one look. I hate the way this girl makes me feel.
“Ya know, if you’d put that thing away while you walk, you wouldn’t be running into strangers.”
She taps out of her phone and drops it into her bag—a very nice bag. One that looks like it cost a small fortune. “Strangers, huh? Are we still using that title?”
“I think that’s probably best. Don’t you?”
Her shoulders rise and fall as she grips the strap of her bag with both hands, holding it close. “You’re probably right. We need to just pretend the other night never happened. Maybe one day we can start over. Maybe as friends?” There’s a softness in her words and it’s a far slide from the confident, blunt girl I encountered earlier. The one who asked me out for lunch and questioned my rejection of her offer.
But, Friends? I’m not sure I can ever be her friend. I’m not sure I can even be this close to her for much longer, without undressing her with my eyes and trailing my lips over the small birthmark on her shoulder.
How I even remember that insignificant detail is astounding. I shouldn’t know anything about her.
“Yeah. Maybe,” I respond, against my better judgment, knowing full-on that we will never be friends.
Her lips part and a smile grows on her face. “See ya around, Sawyer.”
“Yeah. See ya.”
She walks out the revolving door, leaving me here questioning everything I promised to myself. Everything I promised Taylor before she took her last breath.
Chapter Seven
Mira
Today has been one for the books. Running into Sawyer—three times—was not anticipated, but I seem to never fail to put myself in tense situations. So, I’m not surprised that I’m sitting alone at Tito’s. The same place I met Sawyer, and also the same building as the hotel I spent the night in with him.
I’m not sure what brought me here. It was a spontaneous decision. I’ve tried to avoid making them because I always end up in trouble. On the off chance that I’ll see Sawyer here, I decided to come. He’s painted this dark picture of me and I have to at least try to rectify it. It could also be that I haven’t stopped thinking about him since he showed up at Dad’s office. Sawyer checks all my boxes. He’s handsome, mysterious, and he’s playing my favorite game—hard to get. Not to mention, he smells like a men’s cologne insert from Vogue magazine.