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A knock came at my door as I was finishing up writing an email to my editor in chief and so I quickly sent it and then turned to the door, preparing for my next meeting with Sharon.
"Come in," I said and folded my hands in wait.
In Sharon walked, looking her usual self. Late forties, salt-and-pepper hair, fashionably dressed, and seeming a little frazzled. I knew she was feeling guilty for being behind in her work for the publishing imprint she was managing acquisitions editor.
She motioned to someone behind her and when the woman came forward, I realized it was Ella.
"Ella said you already met but I wanted to introduce you to our newest recruit. She'll be working with me as my new acquisitions assistant."
I stood abruptly, and buttoned my jacket, putting on as calm and cool expression
as I could muster.
After we were all introduced formally, I turned to Sharon.
"So, I suppose you're relieved to have a new assistant. It must have been hard to keep up with everything after you lost your last one."
Sharon spoke for a moment about what she'd done for the past month without an assistant, getting some help from another staff member but not really being able to tackle her work.
I listened with half a mind, focused in part on Ella, who stood there, her eyes wide, a smile on her pretty face.
There was no need for Sharon to know anything about what happened between Ella and me the night before. I'd pretend that we only met that one time in the elevator and that adrenaline surged through me when I saw her again. Ella had that effect on me.
"Well, it's nice to meet you," I said and caught Ella's eye. "I hope you enjoy your new position with Macintyre Publishing."
"Thank you, Josh. I hope so, too."
Sharon led Ella out and I closed the door, exhaling heavily. I went back behind my desk, my mind working furiously, trying to figure out how to explain to Ella why I had led her on all this time.
I grabbed my cell and pulled up her last text.
JOSH: I know what just happened was awkward but when you get a few minutes, please come back to my office so we can talk. I know you were concerned about the ethics of us going out, but honestly, I'm not really involved in Dominion except quarterly.
I waited but there was no response. Fifteen minutes later, I sent another text.
JOSH: If you want to pretend we didn't have a great evening together and that you weren't really into what was happening last night, it's up to you. But I really enjoyed our time together and hope we can do it again. Please come by and see me.
Still nothing.
I sighed and turned back to the file on my desk, kicking myself mentally for not reassuring her that I would not expect anything from her that she didn't want to give or penalize her if she decided she didn't want anything else to happen between us. Given both our experiences with our exes, it was understandable she was reluctant to get involved with me. I felt that we really hit it off right from the start and it would be too bad if we didn't at least give it a try.
I could have walked to the elevator and gone to her office and demanded that she speak to me. I was the owner of the publishing house, after all, but I didn't want to embarrass her or take advantage of my position. That was what she was afraid of after all. I understood how it would look.
So I tried to distract myself, wondering if she would respond. She had to -- if she wanted the cashier's check. Luckily, my assistant came in and handed me a copy of something to sign and for the next hour, I was distracted and unable to ruminate much about Ella and how I hoped that she'd give me a chance despite technically being her boss.
The rest of my day passed much as the previous part had -- with me busy in meetings or reading over material in preparation for more meetings.
By five thirty, when I still hadn't received a reply from Ella, I sent her a final text.
JOSH: Look, Ella. I get that you're concerned about me being the owner of Dominion Publishing, but I really do want to help you even if you don’t want to see what develops between us. No matter what happens or doesn't happen between us, I still want to give you the cashier's check so you can get your apartment on Monday. If you want, I can have it sent to your office. If what happened between us upset you, you don't have to even see me or speak to me again. Let me know.
I sat holding the cashier's check in my hand. Made out to Roberto Bertelli, first and last month's rent, the check was for $5400.00. I googled the address and saw it was in a decent part of Chelsea, and using street view, I could see that her apartment was in an old brownstone building and was probably on the third floor. The street was tree-lined. It was close to a subway stop. The apartment would be a great choice for someone's first months in Manhattan. I envied her in a way. She was truly starting her life, and living her dream.
Work at a publishing house reading submissions. Living in a studio apartment in Chelsea. She was beautiful and young and smart. She'd have her pick of men, who I knew would be quite happy to give her the attention she deserved after being betrayed by her fiancé.
Problem was, I wanted to be the one who did that for her. I hated the thought that I'd been the one who found her and every other hungry dog standing around in the bars and clubs would be the ones who had a real chance.
Finally, at approximately 6:15, fifteen minutes before we had planned on going for some great Italian meatballs, I got a text from her.
