Running From Forever (5 page)

I didn’t need to look up to see who it was—I’d
remember that voice any day, but I did, and saw the gaze that made
my insides come alive…elevator guy. “I…um, no. Just checking my
phone,” I told him, fumbling with words at first, surprised to see
him standing before me. I quickly recovered, becoming confident
midsentence. “Can I help you with something?” I asked, slipping my
phone into my purse and back into the drawer, keeping my eyes on
him as I spoke.

He grinned. Of course he grinned. It was a part
of his demeanor and almost defined his appearance. And what a
magnificent grin it was. “I had to leave some documents for Connie
to sign, and then I saw you.” His eyes travelled around the
perimeter of my face, to my lips, then back to my eyes, rendering
me speechless. He was checking me out again, which wasn’t anything
crazy (many guys have), but with him it was different. He turned
something on inside. Excitement. Pride…Lust.

I swallowed hard and inhaled through my nose,
regaining my bearings before speaking. “I’m her assistant.”

“Yes, I see,” he pointed out nonchalantly.
“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other then.”

“Do you work for her, too?”

He laughed a gut-consumed one, sending chills up
my spine. It was hot; deep and smooth, but heavy and full…sexy.
Gathering himself, he answered, “I’m sure she would love to think
that, but no. We’re partners. Actually, siblings.”

Uncontrollably, my eyes widened, shocked. I
wasn’t expecting him to say that. At all.
Siblings?
I had a
crush on my boss’s brother.
Fantastic.
If there wasn’t a
warning flag hanging over his head before, there was now. And the
clench in my stomach confirmed that. He was off limits, wrapped in
caution tape; I could only look—touching or anything of that nature
was not permitted.

“I’m sure you’ve already figured out who the
nice one is, though,” he added with a wink.

“I have
no
idea what you’re talking
about,” I protested, dripping with sarcasm and maybe sounding just
a pinch flirtatious.

His eyes narrowed and teeth bit his lower lip,
studying me again. It was nerve-wracking and a bit uncomfortable.
Normally, I would ask what he was doing or why he was staring at me
like that, but I couldn’t. I was consumed.

He broke the silence first. “Do you have plans
tonight?”

I almost answered no, but remembered I did.
Thankfully, I
did
have plans. “I do, actually.”

“A date?”

“Nooo…” I said slowly, looking at him, puzzled,
while playing with my necklace. The question was kind of blunt and
a bit forward. I didn’t know the man from Adam yet he was already
touching base with my personal life. It was kind of rude for him to
ask, but for some reason felt kind of flattering too. “I’m going
out with some people from work.”

His mouth opened slightly and he nodded his head
like a light went off inside. “Ah yes, Tipsy Tuesday. How could I
have forgotten?”

“Tipsy Tuesday?” I questioned. “I didn’t know it
had a title.”

“Oh. Well, you’ve been misinformed. It’s a
company tradition amongst all of you. Our employees have been doing
it for years. Be warned, there’s Thirsty Thursday, too.”

“All of
you
?” I asked with a raised brow.
I didn’t miss that affirmation.

He chuckled. “My apologies. I meant nothing by
it.” He grinned, running his opened hand down his chest, smoothing
down his tie. “Executive mistake.”

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my
chest. “Uh huh,” I said, trying to act tough and irritated. But who
was I trying to kid, he was too gorgeous, and that grin…I couldn’t
help but smile.

Acting relieved, he ran his hand across his
forehead. “Phew. That would have really blown it for me if you
didn’t.”

Blown it for
him
? Mr. Executive Elevator
Guy is interested? No! He can’t. We can’t. He’s my boss’s brother.
My boss’s very good looking brother that happens to smell amazing,
but nonetheless, he’s Connie’s brother and I’m pretty sure Connie
might actually breathe fire. The last thing I want to do is piss
her off.

Avoiding his grin and keeping things
professional, I switched the topic. “Do you want me to give those
to Connie for you?” I asked, glancing down at the manila folder in
his hand, remembering he needed to have Connie sign some documents
for him.

“Oh, uh, no,” he snapped out of his stare and
answered, exposing the name tag clasped to his belt.

Miles Blackwell.
Not Walters. Hmm, I
wondered why they had different last names. Is Connie married? I
didn’t remember seeing a wedding band on her finger. Maybe
divorced? I definitely could understand that.

“I’ll just put them on her desk, thanks.”

With a tight grin, I nodded my head, and
politely answered, “Okay.”

“Enjoy your evening, Ms. Reynolds,” he added
before walking the few short feet to Connie’s door, going right in
and placing the folder on her desk. I watched as he did; taking
notice of his broad shoulders, smooth skin, and well-defined jaw.
Although I couldn’t act upon my attraction, I could certainly
admire; like an art gallery with portraits too expensive to buy or
touch, everything still okay to look at.

When he left, he just simply smiled and
continued down the hallway to the elevators. A heavy feeling filled
my chest that he didn’t stop and chat some more, but that’s what
needed to happen; friendly business etiquette. No matter how you
saw it, though, it sucked. If I were to have a relationship with
anyone here in New York, he would be the person I’d pick—
professional, successful, and drop dead gorgeous. Just my luck, he
had to be related to my boss. It didn’t seem to matter to him, but
it did to me. I needed my job; I couldn’t afford to lose it.

At exactly five o’clock, Sami stood beside my
desk, waiting for me to finish up my work for the day. Of course,
Connie called at quarter of needing me to switch around a few
things in her schedule for tomorrow. Sami said she probably did it
on purpose. I wouldn’t put it past her, especially with the new
knowledge that the executives were well aware of our Tuesday
evening festivities.

“Alright. Done,” I told her, shutting down my
computer and reaching for my purse in the drawer. As I touched the
strap, I remembered I never responded to Trevor.
Crap.
My
focus had shifted to Miles when I was about to reply.

“What’s wrong?” Sami asked, noticing my
expression turning somber.

I hunched over with my elbow on my desk and head
in my hand. “My ex…he texted me earlier, upset, and I forgot to
reply. I feel like shit.”

“What does it matter? He’s your ex.”

If I didn’t feel like such an ass, I probably
would have laughed. The way she said it was amusing, her attitude
flippant. “I didn’t leave on the best terms,” I admitted and looked
up at her, my face and heart aching with remorse. “I kind of
just…left.”

“Like with no warning or anything?”

“Kinda…” I smirked. “I left a note.”

She laughed. “A note? How long were you guys
together?”

“A little over three years,” I answered
apprehensively, like a little kid afraid of telling the truth, my
eyebrows scrunched and shoulders stiffly raised.

“Three years! And you broke up with him in a
letter?”

Fuck.
I should’ve just kept that to
myself. I needed to make friends here, not knock them off one by
one. “Yup,” I confirmed. Nothing like making myself look like a
heartless bitch right out of the gate. “I know—lame, heartless,
selfish…you name it, I know that’s what I am.”

“Well, I don’t know if you have to go to the
extreme of calling yourself heartless, because you wouldn’t care if
you really were. Selfish, on the other hand…” She left it at that,
making me chuckle. She sighed, clapped her hands together, snapping
me out of my pity party. “Alright, text that poor boy back and meet
me down in lobby when you’re finished.”

I exhaled, relieved. She didn’t think any less
of me after knowing my dirty little secret. Well, not enough to
ditch me tonight anyway.
Thank goodness.
“K, I’ll be right
down.” I smiled, opening the text back up to reply.

I decided not to get into any detail. He knew my
reasoning, I put in the letter. There was no need to elaborate or
to continue down a dead end road. Instead, I just answered his
question and gave him my address.

Kayla:
1302 Broadway, Apt
12, Manhattan, New York 10006

I stared at the screen a moment before sending
it. It would probably be the last text I ever sent to Trevor. We
were officially over. Maybe I should delete his number for good
measure. He was still such a good guy, though. I left so quickly
that I left some things behind. He could’ve just thrown them away,
but I won’t go back and forth with him. If he wanted to send them,
then so be it, but as expected, he was sending the last of my
belongings from our place because he was a good guy. With a deep
breath and a hard swallow, I pressed send.

It was over.

Placing my cell back in my purse, I stood and
took a cleansing breath. I was officially closing one door and
opening the next. I wasn’t sure who or what that next door was, but
my past was shut. Slipping the strap of my purse over my shoulder,
I walked confidently to the elevators. I felt relieved; like a
weight had been lifted off of me. I don’t know why just that simple
text felt so refreshing, but it did. Maybe I’d been holding onto
that relationship for too long; maybe this breakup was long
overdue. Whatever the case may be, I knew I felt more alive…free. I
had the job of a lifetime, I was living in the city I had always
dreamt of living in, and now I had some semblance of closure with
Trevor. Things were looking up, the wind was in my sails and I was
sailing toward a new sunset.

***

Sami and I shared a
taxi to the bar. Surprisingly, the one they go to every Tipsy
Tuesday and Thirsty Thursday was just down the street from my
apartment building.
Very convenient.
Though most bars and
clubs in New York are very trendy and swanky, this one wasn’t.
Thank goodness.
After my day, I wasn’t up for swank—I wanted
a beer and a shot, not a Cosmo.

McShane’s was warm and friendly, a
hole-in-the-wall Irish Pub like the ones we went to in college.
Maybe it was the name, I don’t know, but whatever is was, it
certainly had a homey feel to it. I loved it.

Immediately upon entering, we heard people
hollering Sami’s name, telling us to come join them at the bar. It
was obvious that she knew a lot of people at ETV—I’d have to find
out how long she’d been working there. Once we found a couple of
open stools, I realized that I recognized at least some of the
people; none that I had met, but definitely people I had seen
around the building in the last couple of days. Sami was kind
enough to introduce me to all of them.

“Can I get you a drink?” the bartender asked,
coming up to me on the other side of the bar. I had been facing
sideways, talking to one of the girls I had just met; Kelly, I
think her name was.

He was very attractive, catching me off guard.
He was the kind of guy I would’ve been all over not too long
ago—tall, very muscular, short brown hair that matched his big
brown eyes, and then there were his tattoos…they covered his arms,
disappearing up into his fitted black tee. I cursed myself as I
stared, wondering if every guy in New York was alluring. If so, I
was going to have myself a problem, especially since my objective
in coming here was career first, personal life second.

I didn’t notice the lapse in the time I spent
checking him out until he snapped me out of it.

“Miss?” his deep voice rang out. “Can I get you
something?”