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As I sink deeper into the bath, my mind wanders back to Reece, to that kiss. I shake my head, trying to clear it. Focus, Genesis. You're here to make a name for yourself, not to get entangled in office romances, no matter how tempting they might be.
* * *
By the time Talon arrives, it's been a good two hours. It's fine; I've had the chance to soak, moisturize and slip into something comfortable—my go-to yoga outfit. My unruly afro of curls are tied up, and fluffy slippers keep my feet warm. There's no need to put on airs for Talon; he's seen me in all states over the years.
As I open the door, he stands, dressed just as casually in dark blue jogging pants and a grey t-shirt. His black hair is a tousled mess atop his head, somehow making him look not a day over eighteen despite the decade that's flown by. His familiar "Hey, girl" greeting fills the air.
Laughing, I step aside, waving him in. "Get in here and shut the door, Talon," I say, my voice warm with the comfort of old friendship.
As Talon clicks the door shut behind him, he falls into an uncharacteristic silence, taking in the surroundings of my new apartment. The two-bedroom space in Upper Manhattan is cozy yet chic, with an open-plan living area that blends seamlessly into a modern kitchen, all under the warm glow of recessed lighting. The walls, adorned with art and photography, reflect my travels and tastes. The large windows frame the bustling cityscape, offering a breathtaking view that never gets old.
"Nice digs, Genny," Talon comments, breaking the silence as he surveys the room.
"Thanks," I respond, accepting the takeout bag from him and placing it on the kitchen island. "But I bet this place is just a fraction of the size of whatever space you live in right now, Mr. Forrester."
He shrugs noncommittally, and for the first time, I notice his usual boyish charm and wit dimmed. He casually sits on one of my island stools, and cracks open a beer from the six-pack he brought.
As I pour myself another glass of wine, I hand him chopsticks and a container of combo lo mein, observing him closely. He seems lost in thought, a far cry from his typically animated self.
He's nearly halfway through his lo mein and beer when I finally address the elephant in the room. "Talon, what's going on? You look like someone stole your puppy."
He looks up, and I'm struck by the genuine sadness in his hazel eyes. "Just female troubles with this woman from work, Gen," he admits. I almost groan, thinking of my own entanglement with Reece, but manage to hold it back. "A bad idea, I know," he continues, echoing my thoughts. "Trust me, I've already heard it from my mother."
Her meddling in her sons' relationships has always been a point of contention. "Who are you telling?" I say, munching on an egg roll.
"I think that's half the reason she's doing this stupid bachelor idea," he mopes.
Pointing my chopsticks at him, I delve deeper into his lo mein. "So, this Bachelor idea was because of you?"
Talon's revelation hits close to home. "I'm sure it had something to do with me. Also, Knox's thing with Robyn... You know, him trying to pretend he's not into her but failing miserably. Mom just doesn't want us involved with any of the staff. Imagine the ‘scandal it would cause at Forrester International.’" He rolls his eyes.
Hearing this, my heart sinks. If there were ever anything between Reece and me—not that there would be, but hypothetically—it's clear we wouldn't have the Forresters' blessings. It's suddenly clear why Robyn has always seemed like an outsider. We, as career-driven women, shouldn't have to sacrifice our dreams and become outcasts for the sake of a relationship.
Noticing the heavy look on Talon's face, I realize this issue weighs on him, too. "Damn, that sucks," I comment, genuinely empathetic. "Who is she?"
"Her name is Kiri Maota. She's one of the producers at Forrester Media."
I ponder this. "But doesn't that technically fall under Reece's domain?"
"No, Reece handles the print and digital media. Kiri's in entertainment—TV, radio, podcast broadcasting. That's more my world," Talon clarifies.
I help myself to another bite of his lo mein. "Of course it is," I say playfully.
"Hey, Genny, I got you your own," he protests with a laugh, "Keep your chopsticks out of my oyster pail!"
"But yours always taste better," I tease, grinning.
He winks. "That's what she said."
With that, the familiar banter with my best friend is back. I reach into the bag for my own container of lo mein, taking another bite as I ponder what to say next. He watches me intently, and I know he can read my expressions just as well as I can read his.
"So, about this morning's meeting... What did you think?" I ask, curious about his perspective.
He snorts, taking a swig of his beer. "Seeing my older brothers get a reality check from our parents? Always entertaining."
I take a bite of my egg roll, mulling over his response. "Hmm," I murmur, not fully satisfied.
Talon looks at me, sensing there's more on my mind. "That's not really what you wanted to ask, is it, Genesis?" He rarely uses my full name, which tells me he's taking this seriously.
