“Rie!” Maisie screeches, noticing me standing at the edge of the room. Her tiny hands go up. “Pick up!”
Dropping the pizza box on the console table on my left, I walk over, pick her up, and plant a big kiss on the chubby folds of her neck. Nothing smells as good as a toddler…when she doesn’t have a dirty diaper that is.
Most importantly, she looks healthy and happy. A sense of bone-deep relief comes over me.
“Down,” she orders. I give her back to my mother.
“Mr. West said he needed to speak with you urgently so I told him to wait. I tried calling you.”
She means my personal phone which I had to cancel today due to lack of funds thanks to the man staring at me from across the room.
“Hmm,” is my reply to that. My dignity can’t take another hit right now.
“Can I speak to you?” Grim says in a quiet voice.
“My pizza is getting cold, so no.”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
“He’s been waiting an hour, Rie,” the traitor who birthed me says. “Just speak to the man.”
The fit of pique I’m about to have is going to blow my head off and possibly put a hole in the roof. “Speak.”
The sheepish look, the way he stuffs his hands in his pockets––I don’t know why, but his lack of emotion, any real emotion, makes me madder. Then he has the gall to make demands. “Can we do it somewhere private?”
I turn on my heels and walk out, back onto my front porch. If I’m going to blow, I can’t do it in front of the baby. Jordan follows moments later, closing the door behind him. He looks off. Searching for what? My money is on a sign from Satan himself.
Exhaling, he faces me again. “You’re not fired.”
Mmmwhat? He can’t be serious. “Come again?”
“You’re not fired.”
He can’t be this thick.
“I would like for you to come work for me again.”
Yes, he can. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Or call a paramedic. He needs to have his head checked. The arrogance of this man is on a level I would call delusional.
“This is what you came all the way to Staten Island to say to me…this? I’m not fired. Not an apology. Not an, I’m sorry I humiliated you in front of two dozen people. I’m not fired?”
“I apologize for humiliating you,” he says, voice low, jaw firm in that arrogant manner of his.
“That’s the best you can do?”
He makes a pained face. Yeah, buddy, feel the pain. He’s lucky I’m not making him tattoo the apology on his forehead.
“Well?” I persist. He’s not getting off that easy.
“What would you like me to say?”
I take a deep breath and exhale. “For a smart guy, you sure don’t have any answers.” I know I’m going to regret this later, but right now all I see is red. “I need you to leave.”
“Riley…,” he murmurs in a genuinely remorseful voice. Now we’re getting somewhere. Now that it’s too late. He can unfire me, but he can’t unhurt my feelings.
“You need to leave, Jordan. As much as I love and miss Maisie. I can’t––”
“Look, I’m sorry. I am. I shouldn’t have treated you that way, but I was…” He stops, blinking down at me as if he doesn’t know if he should say more.
“You were worried. I get it. But might I remind you that neither of us knew she had food allergies. You blamed me, a stranger, for not knowing she was allergic to peanuts when you yourself, her godfather, had no idea.”
His chin tips down. He stuffs one hand in his pocket, the other sifts through his hair. “You’re right…I’m sorry. Can you please come back now?”
He looks genuinely sorry. And yes, I need the money desperately. But who’s to say this doesn’t happen again?
“You can’t treat me that way again.”
He glances up, a hopeful spark dancing in his tired green eyes. “I promise.”
“I mean it, Jordan.” I cross my arms, suddenly feeling vulnerable for whatever reason. He has a way of getting inside of me, sneaking in when he’s being sweet, that legitimately scares me.
“Let me prove it to you…” He steps forward, only half a dozen inches separating us, and does something he’s never done before…he touches me. He reaches out and tucks a stray piece of my hair back behind my ear. My breath gets caught in my throat.
I don’t think it’s a conscious decision on his part because he stalls, pausing long enough to decide whether to continue. His fingers linger on my ear and slide down my neck and I freeze. Because it feels good. It feels right in the wrongest way possible. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before, a strange mix of excitement and fear.
Inside, Maisie laughs and the spell is broken. It’s a bucket of cold water, shocking us back to reality. His hand falls away and he steps back.