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Felicity pulled away, removing her glasses to wipe her eyes. "Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate you being here."
"I should've come sooner."
"I didn't even offer you anything to drink." She stood to her feet. "I don't have any alcohol, though. Would you like some cranberry juice?"
I gave her a look, furrowing my brows dramatically. "No thanks," I chuckled. "A tissue would be fine. I have snot all over me."
She laughed. "That's what you get for finally talking to me. Like really talking to me."
We spent the rest of the night talking and catching up. I didn't bring up the issue of her working for me again. I was serious about wanting to start over, meaning I had to be more receptive to her feelings and wants. So, whether she wanted to work for me or not was entirely up to her.
This was not to say that I didn't want that, only that it would be on her terms.
I also hoped to God that she would not let this opportunity to experience true love pass her by. That Aaron boy might be an arrogant son of a bitch, but at least he cared enough to defy the odds.
And really, that was all that mattered.
twenty-six
Felicity
True to his word, Aaron stayed away from me. Now that Jade had been exposed as the person behind the leak, I didn't have to worry about losing my job. As a consolation for encouraging her tactics, Dad told me he would rather stick pins in his eye than employ her.
It was enough for me.
I'd gotten a lot of apologies from my colleagues, especially the ones who'd been very forward at calling me a rat. I accepted them all with a smile, though I didn't give a shit what they thought. It was weird, but after the much needed heart-to-heart with my dad, it hit me that maybe I was hanging too much on the past and needed to let go.
Aaron had definitely thought so. When Dad told me he had come to see him, surprise was an understatement to describe how I felt. Don't get me wrong; my dad wasn't a monster, but he did tend to become a bit scary when he wanted to, and so a lot of people in this industry were intimidated by him.
Hearing that Aaron had gone to see him was shocking. I supposed it was to be expected. The man had no fear in him.
I missed him. I did. So fucking much it hurt. I kept thinking this was for the best, but who was I kidding? There was nothing best about this.
I missed the way he looked at me as if I were the only thing he could see, the only person he had eyes for. I missed the way he touched me, the way my body responded so eagerly to him.
I missed the way he got me to open up to him without breaking a sweat. I missed that bergamot and amber scent that did crazy things to my pussy.
Hey! I could say pussy now without flinching. It took a couple of weeks, but slow progress was still progress. All I wanted to do was run to his office and scream “Pussy!” But I doubted he would share my enthusiasm.
I also wanted to tell him that my father and I had talked through our differences, and we were in a good place now, and it was all because of him. The other day, my parents organized a family dinner, and Derick was there, too. It was the longest we'd been in each other's company without having an argument in a long time.
He had no idea how much I appreciated his help.
I smiled when I imagined his response: “I didn't do much. You both were already at your breaking points. All I did was add a little push.”
The following two months were spent working on the game. This meant the entire team was up to our necks in work and barely had time for anything else.
It also meant that for certain periods of time, Aaron and I were in the same space, but he never spared me as much as a glance, and it hurt. If he needed to direct any questions or instructions to me, it was always done with a stoic voice, and my full fucking name was pronounced to the last detail.
I'd never hated hearing my name so much.
I missed hearing him call me baby.
Everyone noticed the strain between us. That might have been my fault seeing as I'd told him to stay the fuck away from me in front of the entire company. There were several speculations about what was going on between us. Now that everyone could see how cold he'd gotten toward me, I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me we were a constant topic of gossip.
I didn't care much anyway.
I thought of going to him a few times, but what would I say? I was sorry? That seemed a little cliche. Besides, this was what I had wanted. So why on earth did I hate it so much?
