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“I’m sure she’s mad, but once you explain the situation, she’ll understand,” she said gently.
“I don’t know,” I said. “She won’t talk to me.”
“She was five feet away from you all day,” she retorted.
“No, Mom, she wasn’t. She didn’t work today. She came in and left the newspaper on her desk and then went home sick.”
“Seems like she’s pretty upset for having a casual relationship,” she said.
“I think we moved past casual this last weekend,” I confessed.
Mom smiled. “I think that was bound to happen. The two of you feel deeply for each other. I’m not sure if you know that.”
“I know that,” I said.
“What happened this weekend?” she asked.
“We got close,” I said. “We spent some time together, just the two of us. We went for a hike and shared a nice picnic lunch. We talked about what happened the first time we were in Vegas. We both apologized for what we did to one another. We never said anything about a future, but, Mom, I felt it. I know she felt something. I did. I didn’t think we needed to say the words. We both felt it.”
“Then I would think you could understand why seeing that picture might be hurtful,” she said.
“I get it, but I didn’t do anything,” I said. “I swear I didn’t.”
“I believe you, but it’s not me you need to convince. It’s her.”
“And I want to, but how can I if she won’t talk to me?” I asked.
“Give her some time,” she advised. “I know she cares about you. She’s going to need to talk to you. Not to mention, she’s your assistant. She still works for you.”
“I don’t know if she does,” I said. “This is why Dad didn’t want me messing around with the people that work for me.”
“I think this is a special circumstance,” she said, smiling. “This isn’t a fling, is it?”
“No!”
“Then I would suggest you find a way to talk to her,” she said. “I know it isn’t your style, but you might need to eat some humble pie. Put yourself in her shoes. If you happened upon a picture of her kissing a man, wouldn’t you be upset?”
“I wasn’t kissing the woman,” I said.
“The picture says otherwise.”
“I swear, I’m going to nail that damn reporter to the wall,” I growled. “Why would he do that?”
“I doubt it was done maliciously,” she said. “You and Macy have done a good job keeping that relationship under wraps, right?”
“We have to,” I said. “She doesn’t want anyone at work to know, which I totally get. I have no problem announcing it to the world, but she is worried people won’t respect her.”
“Understandable,” she said. “So, the reporter didn’t know you were involved with anyone. He probably thought he would juice up what is a rather boring story. He was capitalizing on your notoriety with the ladies to sell his story. You made the front page. Do you honestly think you would have gotten that much coverage for a new line of watches?”
She was right. “Fine, I hate the guy, but I won’t ruin him. I will never give him another interview, though.”
“Your anger is understandable, but it’s not going to solve anything. The only way this gets solved is if you actually do something to fix it. Do you want Macy?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Then you need to fix it.”
“Do you think I should go to her apartment?” I asked almost hopefully. “Try and convince her to talk to me.”
