Dawn Robertson - Hers

“Make yourself at home, Seven.”

I place my bag down on the desk, and he rises to his feet. “I was just on my out anyway. I have to make my rounds through the departments. Say my goodbyes.” Like that, the old man walks out without a second thought. Whatever.

Pulling out my laptop, I take on my biggest task of the day: my email inbox. What a fucking nightmare, as always. Typing away, distracted by the internet, I hear the door open. Automatically assuming Mr. Stern forgot something, I ignore whoever enters the room. It isn’t until I can feel a set of eyes burning a hole into me that I look up from my busy work.

Levi is standing at the desk, his cold blue eyes burning holes through me. He doesn’t speak, and we spend a long moment engaging in a staring competition. Something I outgrew about ten years ago. I break the silence. “Levi.”

“Seven.” He returns the uncomfortable formality between us.

“What can I help you with?” I try to break the tension, but I already know why he’s in my office.

“I think we should talk. You know. About, well…” He stops, because he is as uncomfortable as I am with the situation.

“Look, had I known we would be in this position, I would never have offered the other night. But since we’ve found ourselves in this precarious situation, I’d rather not talk about it now, or inside these office walls. We can meet up after work, but this conversation isn’t happening here.”

He nods in agreement.

“Tonight, we’ll do dinner.” He speaks with certainty. I don’t want to like his demand, but I cave to the offer.

I nod in his direction. “Seven at Tokyo Fusion on 34th,” I say before shrugging him off. He nods and walks out of the office, just as Daniel decides to enter. Seriously, this is turning out to be the most complicated fucking buyout ever.

“Seven James. I can honestly say, I never thought I would see you again.” His words slice through me like a knife. Something about him is like pouring salt in the wounds of my raw soul. I should be overjoyed to be here, taking the only job he has ever wanted, but seeing him face-to-face still fucks with my mind on so many different levels. Age hasn’t been kind to him. His previously thick sandy blonde hair is thinning, and a bald spot peers through. You can tell he’s desperately tried to cover it. I chuckle to myself. Wrinkles surround his eyes, and worry lines are front and center. If I didn’t know any better, I dodged a bullet when he walked out on me. Ugly ass!

“Daniel Alexander. We meet again, love.” I smile, and stand. As I brush my skirt down, I’m sure to accent every curve he’s missing out on. “It has been ages, what… seven years?” I know it’s been five, but adding time helps.

“Five, only five,” he replies as a smile begins to pull at the corner of his mouth. Slow and seductive. The same smile he used to win me over, so many years ago.

“Five, huh? Well, it really is a pleasure to see you. You look…” I want to say horrible, but I keep it polite. Kill ’em with kindness, right? “Great. You look great Daniel.” I extend my arms, and give him a big, friendly bear hug.

“I have to admit, I never thought I’d see you in a boardroom, let alone mine.” He speaks with confidence, like he actually has ownership in this company.

“Actually, it is your father’s boardroom, but continue.” The little dig makes me feel so much better.

“How have you been? Are you married? Please, let’s catch up.” He sits down, and I walk around the desk, plopping down in my chair. My eyes drag over his left hand, wedding band firmly in place on his ring finger, and I know the answer to so many of my questions already.

“Single as the day I was born. I don’t need a pesky romance in the way of my plans to conquer the world.” I laugh at my own joke, as does Daniel. He knows me well enough to know it really isn’t a joke at all. “Just been busting my ass, living the young, wild, and free lifestyle. I can see you settled down. What was her name? Susan? Sheryl? Sidney?”

With barely a smile, he corrects me. “Samantha.” Samantha Rockwell. I knew her well enough, but wouldn’t give him the pleasure of that slice of knowledge.

“Just darling. Any children?” He always wanted a big brood of brats. Kids, just not my thing.

“Three, actually. We have twin girls who just turned one, and a six week old little boy.”

I have to laugh; that’s a shitload of kids in a year.

“Wow. Well, they must keep you busy.” I silently laugh at the miserable, sleep-deprived look on his face. The admission of that flock just explains part of the reasons why he looks like he’s been rode hard, and put up wet. “They must be a handful!”

“Oh, that is an understatement. Samantha really has her hands full.” I could imagine. No. Not really. Nor would I ever want to image.

“Well, Daniel, it was great catching up, but I have a ton of e-mails I need to sift through before I leave here at noon. I’ll be back on Monday morning. If you need anything in between now and then, feel free to shoot me an email.” I smile; it’s fake, and I hope he can’t see through the show.

“I look forward to working with you, Seven.” Like that, he is gone.

I came here to take his job from him, take the company he thought would be handed over to him when his father retired, had the fool not lost the majority of his stocks to Mr. Stern a decade ago. However, the bold man I once knew is gone, replaced by the shell of a broken man. I thought I would get a thrill from this deal, but in reality, I only feel bad for him. All those years of plotting revenge down the shitter. He ran his own life into the ground without any help from me.

I pick up the phone and dial Olivia. On the first ring, her cheerful voice greets me.

“Livie, get me Mikal, my interior decorator. I want this office overhauled by the time I get back on Monday.”

My phone vibrates across the sprawling antique oak desk, signaling a message. Without looking, I know it’s Star. She doesn’t like to talk on the phone; text is her preferred method of communication. It’s been two full days since the blow out with Evan, and she completely went off the radar. It’s her coping method, so I always just leave her be.

I let out a sigh, thinking about the night I shared with Levi; it was off the charts. Something I would more than enjoy doing on a regular basis. But just like every other hookup in life, it’s in the past now. Exactly where it would stay, unfortunately. An unfamiliar twinge of emotion rips through my stomach. What the fuck do you call that?

As much as I’m not the kind of girl to spill my problems to a room full of BFF’s after a slumber party with manis and pedis, Star is my other half, my built-in therapist in life. I can tell her anything, just like she can do the same. In time, we would sit down to have drinks and she would spill the details of her relationship with Evan. From the sex, all the way to the breakup. It’s like a form of therapy for her too. As far back as we could remember, we both had each other, and really no one else. Well, I do have an older brother, but I haven’t seen him in ages.

The phone vibrates again.

I spit out the Starbucks tea I’m sipping on, spraying my computer screen with the faded pink liquid. Again? What the fuck is that?