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CHAPTER4
AIDEN
Iwas running late because even though Shara and I were divorced, she still managed to fuck up my morning. She was asking for an increase in alimony based on inflation.
“I told you not to give her alimony,” my lawyer and friend, Darren Wilkes, said. “I told you it wasn’t necessary. I told you–”
“I know.” Irritated, I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath. “I should have listened.”
“–you didn’t even have kids,” Darren barreled on, undeterred by my interruption. He had told me, and he was going to make sure he told me so on all counts.
“We didn’t have kids because I didn’t want kids. Hence, I felt guilty enough to pay her alimony.” That wasn’t the only thing I felt guilty about, but it was the easiest to explain. Shara had wanted kids, and I hadn’t, and now she was thirty-eight and looking into her options. Alimony had felt like the least I could do for wasting ten years of her life. Now, though, I wished I had listened to Darren.
“The judge will laugh it off his desk,” Darren predicted. “She never left the workforce. She has a Masters degree. This could backfire on her.”
By the time I got off the phone and got in my car to drive to work, I was running thirty minutes late. I didn’t even remember that today was Layla Davis’s interview with the brand development sector of Cross Media until I got up to my office and saw the reminder I’d set for myself. I planned to go down for the last five minutes of it just to say hi. I hadn’t seen her since her high school graduation.
“You won’t recognize her,” Jack had predicted.
“I’d recognize a Davis anywhere,” I countered. Jack’s tribe was unmistakable. Dark reddish-brown hair, big blue eyes, pale with pointed chins.
Despite the reminder, I got caught up in work and didn’t remember to go down. We’d just been hired by, what was for us, an unusual client. Blake Morten was a minor YouTube personality who was trying to build his brand. We offered brand development services, but we were generally hired by companies or people starting companies, not people trying to brand themselves. My head of Brand thought we were up for it, though. After she interviewed Layla, she and I were going into a strategy meeting with what we’d designed as Blake’s team.
I was mildly regretful that I’d missed catching up with Layla, but only mildly, and only for about twenty seconds before I forgot about the interview altogether. I was ninety percent focused on work, ten percent berating myself over Shara, and entirely unprepared for the tentative knock at my open door.
I looked up and was surprised to see a young woman framed in the doorway. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t think she worked at Cross Media since I made a point of knowing every name, and besides, my employees typically took advantage of the relaxed dress code. Instead of jeans, she was wearing tailored pants, high heels, and a silky t-shirt that was so white I instinctively pulled my coffee cup closer.
“Hi Aiden,” she said, her lips curving into a tentative smile. “They told me to go up.”
I stared at her, nonplussed.Whohad told her to go up? And how did she know me so well that she called me Aiden instead of Mr. Cross when I still couldn’t figure out where we’d met?
The silence stretched on. The woman tucked a lock of her burgundy hair behind her ear and reached up to toy with the charm on her necklace nervously. Her big blue eyes slid sideways, like she was hoping there was someone else in the room she could talk to instead.
And then the pieces fell into place. The hair, the eyes, the familiarity.
“Layla!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. “I didn’t–” I broke off with a laugh that made her tilt her head curiously.
“Your dad told me I wouldn’t recognize you,” I explained. “And I told him I’d always recognize a Davis. But he was right. You’re all grown up.”
I had come around my desk with the intention of giving her a hug, but something stopped me. This wasn’t little Layla Davis who had been one of the pack of kids that swirled around Jack like a three-ringed circus. And it wasn’t the disinterested, withdrawn teenager I remembered her becoming. It was a woman. Abeautifulwoman. Her hair had darkened so that it almost looked brown, but I could still pick out the dark red tint. Her body had–
No. I shut that examination down hard. I wasn’t going to consider how Layla’s body had changed from the thin, gawky teenager who swamped herself in sweats and hoodies, even in the dead of summer. There was a big, flashingDANGERsign over the entire subject of Layla’s body, and thinking about how drop dead gorgeous she’d become was a bad idea, too.
“God, kid, it’s good to see you.” I still wasn’t sure whether I should hug her or not, but a crisp high five seemed like a strange choice, and I wasn’t a handshake guy. I compromised with a quick hug–almost too quick to catch the scent of her shampoo and notice how soft her skin was.
“Not a kid anymore,” Layla said, still toying with the charm on her necklace. An emerald in a gold Celtic knot. Her siblings each had a similar one, and Jack wore the symbol on a ring. Proud Irish.
“No,” I agreed. “A college graduate.”
“And your newest junior marketing manager,” she said, her smile widening. Then a cautious look crossed her face. “I just want to make sure… I didn’t get this job because of my dad, did I?”
I shook my head, glad I could tell her in complete honesty that it had been hers to win or lose. “No, I didn’t even tell Maureen that I knew you.”
Layla looked visibly relieved, and I was fascinated by how transparent her emotions were. I was used to people in the marketing world who felt like they had to look cool, calm, and collected at all times. And I’d grown up in a place where people hid their emotions behind disinterest and hostility. Layla was an anomaly in both.
“I’m glad I earned it,” she said, more to herself than me. “I’d rather not get the job than be handed it.”
She might not look like just one of the Davis pack anymore, but that was a Davis thing to say. Her dad was one of the hardest workers I knew, after me. The youngest BU professor when he was hired, he’d done a lot to prove himself. It looked like his daughter was following in his footsteps, which was great for Cross Media.
