The skin on my face heated as Melissa’s words sunk in, and a bubble of dread settled in my stomach. Melissa was not the type of person to be passive-aggressive, but this was way too close to home for me not to notice…or panic.
Shit. Shit.Shit.
I couldn’t even come up with a response, so I just nodded, hoping she didn’t notice the twitching in my eye. But Melissa went on unbothered.
“When she found out about it, she shut down the whole thing.” She shook her head, her face mutinous. “Can you imagine throwing away a project of that size that would help so many people?”
I moved my head from side to side, my eyes focused on her, trying to figure out if this was a test or just the worst coincidence ever. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat. These were the stakes if I fucked up and blurred boundaries with Tom.Losing our project.
I had to remember that.
I made myself speak before things got weird, since Melissa was clearly expecting a reaction. “That’s in super bad form. I can’t imagine how that guy thought it would be a good idea to get involved with a donor.”
I was sure my face was showing genuine horror, because that was exactly what I was feeling. “Not his best moment, that is for sure.”
I knew that most likely Melissa hadn’t come in here to terrify me; she was not that type of person. Regardless, Iwouldtake this story as a cautionary tale in how I conducted myself with Thomas Hughes.
“I need to get to that meeting with our immigration lawyers. There’s a lot to cover today.” Melissa stood up from her chair then, angling her head towards the door.
“Okay, and no worries. I’ll make sure to let Tom know we have contractors lined up.”
“Great. I feel like we should run it by him, since he wants to be kept in the loop. Make sure you show him the proposal Suarez Construction gave us. If he wants more than that, let me know, and I’ll get you in touch with them.”
She was at the door when she turned around again, her hand on the doorknob.
“Actually it may be easier to just put you in contact with them anyway. You’re the one in charge of the project, and the contact person for the donor. We might as well get you in communication with everyone.” My stomach sank again at her words.
It was all riding on me. This project, the agency’s relationship with Tom. All of it. On me.
I just lifted a hand to her as she slipped out of the room and sat at my desk quietly freaking out for a few minutes.
“This dude is deliberately trying to mess with my head,” I muttered as I walked into the place where I was meeting Tom.Of course, he’d pick my favorite fucking restaurant in New York City, which I could only afford like twice a year. Red Rooster on Lenox Avenue was a Harlem jewel.
Owned by an Ethiopian chef who’d been adopted by a Swedish family as a child and blended those two worlds with the food culture of Harlem. This place evoked the golden age of the Harlem Renaissance. Amazing food, great music, and a fantastic vibe. It was the coolest spot in town, in my opinion, and of course Tom had to know about it. Because he wasn’t happy with being, rich, nice, and gorgeous; he also had to have great taste.
Why the hell did he even want to meet here?It wasn’t exactly a business atmosphere, even at four in the afternoon.
I walked up to the hostess and gave her Tom’s name, and she immediately led me to the dine-in area where he was seating in a booth by himself. The restaurant area was half empty, so at least we’d be able to have a conversation. I quickly slumped into the red leather booth opposite from Tom, before he did something ridiculous like stand up and pull out a chair for me. Without saying hello, I pulled papers out of my messenger bag with my eyes trained anywhere but on him.
I knew I was being rude, but it seemed like Tom Hughes’s sole purpose in life was to throw me off my game by being fucking perfect. After tugging out what I needed to show him and setting it on the table, I pushed my back against the booth and glared at him. When I saw the amused smile on his face, like he’d caught me being adorable again, I finally lost it and let whatever fly out of my mouth.
“Who picks Red Rooster as a place to meet about a domestic violence shelter renovation? Don’t you have an office where we could do this?” I waved my arm around, signaling the beautiful bar area and even more beautiful servers buzzing around us. “Isn’t this a bit much? I could have come downtown or wherever your office is, you know?”
The bastard laughed.
He literally put his gorgeous fucking head back and laughed at my tantrum. I sat there waiting him out, tryingveryhard to keep my mouth shut. I was on the verge of losing my temper and, given the conversation I’d had with Melissa just this morning, I knew that wasnotadvisable.
He drove mecrazy.
“Hi, Camilo. It’s nice to see you again. Thanks for coming to meet with me. I know you’re very busy.”
And now I felt like an asshole, because I hadn’t even said hello. What was wrong with me? Was I actively trying to get fired? This was next-level self-destructive, even for me.
I gritted my teeth and tried to smile. “Hi, Tom.”
He sat there with a happy grin on his stupid beautiful face and kept talking. “I picked Red Rooster because I thought meeting alone in my office might be awkward for you. At the moment, my office is just me and my assistants and since—” He stopped talking then, cleared his throat and looked down at the table. That bit of shyness, like he was also a little nervous about our meeting totally disarmed me. I felt my shoulders relax as I focused on what he was saying. “Anyway I thought a public space for our first meeting would be better. I also live just around the corner, on 126th,” he said, pointing at the busy street outside. “And since your office is close, too, I figured it would be a good spot.”
Now I felt like an even bigger asshole.
