What a dick.
Amara apparently agrees with me. “Get out of here,” she hisses. “You don’t deserve me or Josiah. As soon as you leave, I’m calling my lawyer.”
Justin just shrugs and walks back to his car, adopting one of those swaggers that only the douchiest of douches use.
After he drives away, Amara and I turn to each other. She’s so beautiful, even with the evidence of her tears. It doesn’t detract in any way from her commitment to, and obvious love for, her son.
“Thank you for helping me find him.” A summer storm brews in her wide, grey eyes.
“Of course. I’m happy to do it.”
“I know. And I appreciate it.” She takes a deep breath, and I watch her gather her resolve. “But we can’t continue this way.”
“Say what you mean.” A sense of foreboding fills me.
“Josiah has to be my number one priority. Today, as soon as I got distracted, something happened to him.” She wrings her hands, begging me with her eyes to understand. “I can’t afford to mess around with you if it means not being there when my son needs me.”
“Amara, no. This had nothing to do with us.” I’m a smart man; I can connect the dots. She feels guilty because we shared an intimate moment at the same time Justin was taking her kid. But I connect the dots differently. He had no way of knowing what Amara and I were doing in the office. He would have done this regardless. “This is on Justin. He’s the one who broke your trust.”
“I’m sorry, but we need to keep things strictly professional from now on.”
Shaking my head, I stare down at her. “I understand what you’re trying to do. I understand that you’ve been hurt, and that you believe the safest option is to go back to doing everything on your own.
“But if you think a scumbag like Justin gets to determine our relationship, you’re dead wrong. I’m here for you and Josiah. I’ve proved it and I will keep proving it. I’m in. I’m not going anywhere. You just need to believe it.”
Chapter 7
Amara
The office elevator dings, and I can’t help looking to see if it’s Patrick. It isn’t him. It’s the postal worker. A sigh escapes me, and I wonder if I made the wrong choice.
Patrick hasn’t come into the office for two days. I miss him. Each morning, I have an email from him saying he’s working on some other projects. It makes perfect sense. The man runs a multi-million-dollar company, for heaven’s sake.
Funny, or maybe not. I didn’t know how much I enjoyed being his top priority until I demanded he stop. For a few weeks, I wasn’t alone. Patrick supported me. He showed up consistently for both me and my son. It wasn’t an official relationship, and maybe that’s why I took it for granted. Now that he’s gone, I’m feeling the lack.
My phone beeps at me. It’s a text from Helena in our group chat.
Helena: Are you ready for tonight?
Miriam: So ready
Me: Me too, girl. You have no idea
Helena: Is Justin causing problems again?
Me: No. Yes. I’ll tell you about it tonight
Helena: Can’t wait
Quinn: Who is hosting?
Miriam: It’s my turn
Me: Do I need to bring anything?
Quinn: Just that cute boy of yours
Helena: Looking forward to it. See you in a couple hours xoxo
My mind has been so all over the place, I completely forgot about drinks with the girls tonight. Perfect timing. I could use some advice.
Luck was smiling on me when I moved into my current apartment complex. At the same time each workday, the four of us would find ourselves in the elevator on our way to work. It didn’t take long for us to become friends. Now, we have a weekly drink night, where we rotate hosts each week. It’s been a godsend for decompressing the stress of life, especially this last year.
A few hours later, I slump into Miriam’s comfy sofa with a cosmo in hand. Before these drink nights, I was a strictly wine girl. Not because I didn’t like other drinks, but for the ease of it. I knew which six-dollar bottle of moscato to get at the store, and I had a bottle opener at home. Done and done. Miriam spoils us with these fancy drinks. But I’m not complaining because they are delish.
Josiah sits at the kitchen table with a tablet and earbuds. He doesn’t mind these nights because he gets at least an hour of uninterrupted screen time. Plus, the girls dote on him. They always make sure he has a pepperoni pizza, cookies, and apple juice.
“Okay, ladies, what’s going on this week?” Helena starts us off. She’s kind of the “matriarch” of the group. She’s in her mid-thirties, made an extremely successful career of reforming wealthy bad boys, and she tells it like it is. You never wonder where you stand with Helena. Her forthrightness is something I appreciate more as I get older, especially because she couples it with kindness.
“Same old, same old.” Miriam collapses in a fluffy chair, her legs tucked beneath her. “It feels like Drake’s schedule keeps getting busier, but nothing I can’t handle.” Miriam is the youngest of us, still in her mid-twenties. With her curly brown hair and innocent curves, it would be easy to underestimate her. I wouldn’t, though. She’s sharp as a tack, which is probably why she’s crushing it as Drake Gallagher’s Executive Assistant.
Quinn joins me on the sofa, half of her cosmo is already gone. It’s a good thing Miriam practically makes these things in bulk when it’s her turn to host. “I’m considering deleting all my dating apps and getting a cat or two.”
“Weston still hasn’t realized how good he has it?” Helena asks.
“He probably never will.” Quinn says with a shrug. Then she turns to me with her bright green eyes. “But I want to hear about Amara’s new job. How is it?”
Suddenly shy, I take a sip to give myself time to decide what to say. Like a bandaid. After a quick look to make sure Josiah still has his earbuds in, “Imadeoutwithmyboss,” I rush out.
Helena sits straight up in her seat, Miriam’s eyes get as big as saucers, and Quinn discreetly guzzles the rest of her drink.
“And then I dumped him,” I continue.
Gasps fill the room. Quinn clambers up and heads back to the kitchen saying, “Anyone need a refill before we get into this?”
Miriam giggles. Helena shakes her head with exasperation, trying to hide the smile on her face. Quinn replies, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
By the time I’m done recounting the last couple weeks, starting with Josiah’s birthday and ending with today, I’ve finished my second cosmo. “Now, I don’t know what to do. I miss him, but I don’t know if I want to risk everything I’ve earned professionally. I finally found some security for me and Josiah. I don’t want to lose it.”
The girls all look at me with sympathy. They might not have kids yet, but of course they understand. Each of us has put in thousands of hours of hard work to get where we are. Each of us has our own stories of struggle and challenge. And now that we’ve made it, at least by some measures, it’s scary to consider something that could erase all that security, even if that something is love.
“First off, Justin is a wanker,” Helena spits out. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s only hanging around to get out of paying child support. He certainly isn’t acting like a concerned and responsible parent.”