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I buzzed again, but nothing.
Was she there and just not answering?
I went back down the stairs and stood back near the curb, looking up at the front of the building. According to the address I had, she was on the third floor. She said her window looked out into a courtyard, so I went around the block to the back alley and walked down to the area behind her building. There, three floors up, was what I assumed was her window. There was a small courtyard at the ground level with a walkway and a small alcove with a bench and a planter. It wasn't much but it gave the space a pleasant atmosphere. I glanced up and checked the window out. There was no way I could climb up to it, so I stood back and picked up a pebble off the ground. It was small and round, about the size of a bean or pea. Perfect.
I threw the pebble at the third-floor window and waited, hoping she'd hear the plink of the pebble against her window.
Nothing.
I found another pebble and lobbed it up, and again, there was nothing.
She was either gone or ignoring me.
After the fifth pebble, I gave up and went back around the front of the building. I had to decide what to do – I could stay in the neighborhood and hang out, waiting for her to return, or I could leave the flowers in the entryway, with a note asking her to call me.
I decided to leave the flowers and sent a text so that she'd know they were outside.
JOSH: I'm standing outside your apartment with a bouquet of roses in my hand, hoping you'll let me in so we can talk this over.
If she was home and ignoring me, she'd likely throw them in the garbage and I'd never hear from her again. If she was out, when she arrived home, she'd find them there and maybe think I was nice to leave the flowers for her. Maybe, it would soften her heart and she'd call me.
All I could do was try. The rest was up to her.
I hated walking away with nothing resolved, but one thing I'd learned by going through my breakup was that you couldn't force someone to love you.
They either did or they didn't and there wasn't much you could do about it either way.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ella
I left the office early, but before I left, I put a call in to Marcella Binetti. I felt really awkward calling her, considering we'd only just met and I had to talk to her about something really personal, but I wanted to know if Josh was telling me the truth.
"Hello, Marcella," I said and chewed a fingernail. "I wonder if I could come by your office and have a quick chat."
"Of course, Ella. Please come by. I'll be in until six at least."
She gave me the address, which was just down the street a few blocks. I had some time off because of all the hours I'd put in over the past few days, and since Sharon had encouraged me to take some time off, I did.
I said goodbye to the Cindy at the front desk, and took the elevator down to the lobby, wondering if I would run into Josh, and hoping that I didn't. I wanted to talk to Marcella before I saw him again. If I did ever see him again, that is… I still hadn’t decided whether to go to Bali or not.
I arrived at her building and checked in with the front desk security guard, who issued me a pass. Then I took the elevator up to her office on the twenty-third floor. A receptionist ushered me into a big corner office and there, behind a big oak desk, was Marcella.
She stood and came to meet me at the door, shaking my hand.
"Come in and sit down," she said, leading me over to a small seating area with a sofa and chair across from each other over a coffee table. Everything in the office was high end and elegant, like Marcella herself.
She offered me the chair so I sat and adjusted my skirt, and then I waited for her to sit down herself.
She smiled and folded her hands. "So, Ella. I assume you're hoping that I can find you a good paying job. Perhaps in another publishing house? I know the position you currently have is unpaid and temporary…"
I shook my head, then had to take in a deep breath.
"Actually, no. I love my position at Macintyre Publishing. I wanted to ask you about Joshua Macintyre."
"Oh?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Why would you ask me about him?"
"He told me to talk to you. He said I should ask you about," I said and hesitated, not knowing how to word things. "Well, you should know that we've been sort of seeing each other for the past couple of weeks. I overheard you and Sharon talking about him and that he hired you to find him a wife so he could inherit his money. As you can imagine, I felt hurt. I confronted him and broke off our relationship. He told me I should ask you to explain."
