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I’ve spent the past two nights at Izabella’s and since yesterday morning at breakfast I haven’t seen Ezra. He followed his wife and child to their marital home and left me with Mario to discuss my uncertain future. I feel like I’m in a limbo right now. Until Pax is prosecuted for what he’s done, I’ll never find peace.
I was naughty and used Ezra’s contact list to get in touch with Robert. I’m hoping he’ll think he owes me one after I let him crash in my room that night.
“Hello?” he asks.
“Hi, it’s Rose.”
“Hey, baby, how you been?”
“Ugh, don’t call me baby,” I murmur and he laughs. “I’m calling because I wanted to see if you knew any megalomaniacs in need of a PA.”
“Oh shit, you’re actually quitting then?”
I sigh. “I don’t really have a choice.”
“It’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?” he admits and blows a raspberry. “I’m sorry you’re having to give up a job you love because some dickhead can’t keep his hands to himself.”
“Two, technically,” I reply, trying to make a joke of it. “Did you hear what happened to my car?”
“I just spoke to Cunty about it this morning,” he replies. “You’ve got it rough right now.”
“You have no idea,” I respond, sitting at my desk and mentally preparing myself for the day ahead. “Ask around for me, okay?”
“What area?”
“Any.”
“In Los Angeles?”
“No, in America.”
He whistles long and low. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“There’s nothing here for me anymore. I’m handing in my notice today.”
“Good luck with that.” He clears his throat. “I’ll find you something, don’t worry, okay?”
“Thanks, Robert.”
“No problem, baby.”
Laughing gently, I hang up the phone and tap the envelope on my desk.
“Don’t be a coward,” I whisper to myself and stand, ready to face Mr. Conti.
I knock on his office door and wait for his call before entering.
He smiles when he sees me, so bright and warm. I wonder how I didn’t see it. He was so good at being aloof but this entire time he harbored secret feelings for me. If only I hadn’t heard what they said in his mom’s kitchen, things would all be the same. I’d be oblivious the way I like it. I still don’t know why he came that night and so late.
Maybe I’ll ask him one day, for now I don’t want to stir the pot.
I place the thing on his desk, the thing that I want to snatch back, tear up, and toss in a fire. The thing that has been burning a hole in my soul since I wrote it.
“What’s this?” Mr. Conti asks, eyeing the letter on his desk with confused gray eyes. His eyes are the most wonderful eyes I’ve ever gazed upon.
“My two weeks’ notice.”
His face pales and his hands flatten on the desk. “Is this because of Pax, because he’s a fucking——?”
“It’s not because of Pax, well… not totally anyway,” I respond on a whisper, cutting him off. Feeling my eyes burn as I accept the end of an era.
“Then why?”
“You know why,” I breathe. I don’t want to blame him, but I also do. I’m mad at him for feeling anything other than what he’s supposed to feel.
“I don’t know why,” he answers, pushing his hands through his hair, looking at the letter again like it’s about to burst into flames. That’s how I’ve felt since I wrote it.
I don’t want him to say it out loud, not to me, because that will change everything. So I keep the subject professional. “I’ll help you find a PA before I go.”
“I don’t want a different PA,” he growls, standing, his hands still on his desk.
“I know, but I promise whoever I find will be so good you’ll for—”
“Forget all about you?” he spits, agitated now.
I nod softly. “I can’t stay here. Not anymore, it’s not safe for any of us.”
“You’re not doing this. Not because of him,” he pleads, his tone desperate as he stalks towards me and I walk backwards. He grips my arms when my back touches the door, staring down into my wide eyes. Where his hands are, tingles and burning erupt under and over my skin. “You can’t let him control your life; you have to fight.”
Those are the exact things I thought Izabella would say. How wrong I was.
“I’m not leaving because of him,” I snap.
“Right, nobody will believe that.”
“It’s true,” I grit, annoyed that he’d question my honesty when I’ve never given him a reason to doubt it.
“So tell me why, so I can fix it.”
“You can’t fix it. This isn’t something that will magically go away.”
“Give me more than that, help me out here,” he begs, still gripping my arms, ignoring my squirming. Does he not know what his touch does? “If it’s not Pax then who? Is it money? You want a raise? It’s yours. More days off? Yours. Just tell me why you’re leaving me.”
