Chapter 16

Istepped out of the elevator lost in thought, wondering why Isadora had reacted the way she did when I said I would pick her up. When we had gone to dinner, she had a similar reaction and met me outside. What was she hiding?

I wondered if she lived with someone besides her daughter. Did she have a boyfriend? That would explain why she kept shutting me down even though I knew she wanted me.

I glanced up and caught sight of Isadora talking to Anita. I knew Isadora well, and that was her fake smile. She was not happy.

Shit.

Isadora walked out the door with Anita watching her and I approached the woman who refused to take a hint. "Do you need something?" I asked her.

"I was thinking we could get dinner." Anita smiled and reached for me again.

I instantly realized the misunderstanding that had occurred. Anita must have told Isadora we were going to dinner. Isadora was going to assume I was dating Anita. And that meant she assumed I was cheating on Anita when I was kissing her. She was going to assume I was a player.

Fuck my life.

"Anita, I think I need to clear some things up," I said as gently as possible. "We've been friends and we've had a professional relationship. I know we crossed the line, but I think it would be better if we kept things strictly professional from this point on. I don't want to give you the wrong impression or lead you on in any way."

"I'm not asking you for a ring," she said with a laugh. "Casual is better anyway. We're adults and we're having fun."

I looked at her, trying to smile. "Yes, we're adults," I agreed slowly. "And I have to be honest with you. I'm not comfortable with the casual fun anymore."

Anita frowned, her eyes narrowing. "Are you seeing someone?"

"No," I said quickly and then realized that was a mistake.

Anita's piercing gaze softened briefly before hardening once again. She tilted her head to the side, studying me for a second before shrugging. "Whatever. I wasn't trying to force anything. You really need to relax."

"I'm sorry if you thought this meant something," I said. "I would like to be friends."

"Of course," she said with a forced smile. "Have a nice day."

She turned on her heel and sashayed out of the lobby. She was pissed. If she was pissed, I could only imagine what Isadora was thinking. She was the one I truly cared about.

I quickly pulled out my phone and texted her. I need to talk to you.

She replied. Tomorrow.

I could read the words she didn't text. She was mad. She saw me as some dude sleeping around. That was not the case.

Before I could insist, Spencer slapped me on the shoulder. "We're going out," he said. "We need to loosen up. Meet me at the usual place in an hour."

Spencer walked away, leaving me with no choice but to comply. I made a split-second decision to stop by Isadora's place. I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to explain Anita's presence earlier and clarify any misunderstandings that may have arisen. I didn't want her thinking that was what I was trying to do with her. It was important to me. I cared what she thought about me.

She might not want to talk to me, but I wanted to talk to her and she needed to hear me out. She already thought very little of me.

I gave my driver Isadora's address, deciding I was going to show up whether she wanted to see me or not. This was that important.

I had a feeling there was going to be some pushback. The doorman wanted to call up to her apartment, but a hundred-dollar bill bypassed that. The elevator opened to a foyer painted in a baby blue color. I knocked on the door, my heart racing as I waited for her to answer. After what felt like an eternity, the door finally swung open, revealing Isadora standing before me, her expression a mix of surprise and apprehension.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She glanced nervously over her shoulder. I could hear the faint sound of movement coming from inside the apartment, accompanied by a muffled voice.

"I need to talk to you," I said.

"I told you I would talk to you tomorrow."

"This couldn't wait," I insisted, hoping she would invite me in.

"I thought you had a date," she replied with obvious irritation.

I shook my head. "No, Anita wanted to go out, but I told her no," I explained, my voice tinged with frustration. "I'm not that kind of guy. There is nothing between her and me."

Isadora's expression softened slightly at my words, but she remained guarded. "It doesn't matter," she replied curtly. "We're just coworkers. Rather, you're my boss. I work for you. I don't need you to explain your personal life to me."

"I can tell you're angry," I said. "I want you to know that what happened between us was real."

"There was nothing that happened between us," she hissed. "And there never will be."

"And I think we both know that isn't true," I said dryly.

Isadora opened her mouth to retort but then snapped it shut. "I don't care what you do. If you're here for personal reasons, that can't happen. If this is related to my job, I'll hear you out."

"It's not about work," I admitted. "I only wanted to explain the Anita situation. We're not seeing each other. I just want to make that clear."

"Congratulations. Now, I have things to do." She shut the door in my face, leaving me standing there, feeling utterly bewildered.

Why had she reacted so strongly to my unexpected visit? And what was she hiding inside her apartment? She was very cagey. Obviously, she had a beautiful home. Why was she so protective about it?

Shaking my head, I pushed the thoughts aside, knowing that dwelling on them wouldn't do me any good. Instead, I called Spencer, telling him I was on my way to the bar. When I got there, he was already halfway through his first drink.

"Where'd you go?" he asked.

"To Isadora's place," I replied, settling down into the chair across from him.

Spencer nearly choked on his drink. "Why on earth would you do that?" he asked incredulously, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I wanted to explain about Anita." I shrugged, signaling the bartender for a drink.

"What about Anita?"

"Anita showed up at the office earlier," I explained. "Things were a little awkward because Isadora was there."

He chuckled. "Busted."

"Shut up. It wasn't like that. When I was leaving, Anita was waiting for me. I don't know why she was there. I didn't say anything to make her think I wanted to see her again. She told Isadora we were going to dinner."

He winced. "That's a tough situation, man," Spencer said, shaking his head sympathetically. "I'd hate to be the one stuck in that triangle."

"It's not a triangle," I said. "I didn't want Isadora to think I was messing with her and Anita at the same time. Because I'm fucking not." I took a drink of the strong scotch, appreciating the burning sensation. "But Isadora wouldn't even let me explain. She just jumped to conclusions and slammed the door in my face."

Spencer looked thoughtful. "What did you tell her?"

"Nothing. I told her I wasn't seeing Anita. What else could I say?"

He chuckled. "She thinks you were trying to get her into bed while you were involved with Anita."

"Exactly," I said, nodding. "I looked like a scumbag."

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

I shrugged, taking a sip of my drink as I considered his question. "I don't know," I admitted, my mind racing with possibilities. "But I'll figure it out. I'm not letting her get away this time."

Spencer raised his glass in a toast. "Here's to not letting her get away."

We clinked glasses, the sound echoing through the nearly empty bar.

The evening wore on, and Spencer and I talked about everything but Isadora. Work was a safe topic, football and the latest Netflix series were even safer. But as the bar began to fill up, the noise level rising, my thoughts drifted back to Isadora.

Her fiery reaction to my visit and the way she had slammed her apartment door in my face replayed in my mind. She was so angry with me. It didn't make sense. She kissed me back both times. Kissed and then some. She had been into it. Her constant rejection following a good moment between us was seriously fucking with my head.

It stung more than I cared to admit. A part of me wanted to storm back to her apartment, bang on her door until she let me in, and demand an explanation. But that wouldn't get me anywhere. Isadora was as stubborn as they came. If she didn't want to talk, she wouldn't. And I'd rather not receive another door in my face.

I rested my elbow on the table, my hand cradling my forehead as I stared into the amber liquid in my glass. "I think I might have screwed up by hiring Isadora."

Spencer glanced over at me, eyebrows raised. "You think?" he remarked with a wry grin.

I shot him a glare. "I didn't ask for your sarcasm," I retorted, draining the rest of my drink in one go.

He shrugged, his grin unchanged. "Maybe not, but you seem to need it. If I remember correctly, I did warn you."

"You're no help at all," I grumbled, signaling the bartender for another round.

Spencer leaned back in his seat. "You know, maybe you should try talking to her again."

"And get another door slammed in my face?" I laughed bitterly. "No, thank you."

Spencer shrugged again. "Maybe this time you could try talking through the door. Might be less painful."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. He was right, no matter how much I wished he wasn't. "I guess that's worth a shot," I said. "But I'll wait until tomorrow. I don't want to push too hard. She might end up quitting."

"You just said it was a mistake to hire her," he reminded me.

"It might have been, but I already did it and now we're past that," I said. "Now, she's back in my life and I have to figure out what to do next. Because I can't imagine not seeing her again. But she works for me. I can't just confess my feelings and expect it to work out smoothly. There are complications."

Spencer nodded, looking surprisingly serious. "That's true. But maybe she feels the same way about you. Maybe she just reacted the way she did because she was scared or caught off guard."

"Do I confront her?" I asked.

"Do you think you might be rushing things? You've just reconnected. Give it a minute. Let her get to know you again and vice versa."

"Maybe you're right," I conceded, not entirely convinced. "But in the meantime, she probably thinks I'm some kind of asshole sleeping my way around the city."

"Prove to her you're not," he said, shrugging. "I'd start by not having your lady friends visit you at the office."

"Not funny," I muttered. "I don't know why Anita showed up. I wouldn't be talking too much shit. You're not squeaky clean."

He grinned. "I'm also not trying to rekindle a romance with my ex-girlfriend."

"I don't know how to prove to her I'm not the guy she thinks I am," I said. "I can't go the usual route and bring her flowers or take her to dinner."

"Nope. You have to take it slow and easy. Every day you have to be a good guy and let her see you as you are."

I sighed. "I'm not sure either of us has that much patience."