Beautiful Distraction (28 page)

Mayfield Realties was located on the sixtieth floor of
Trump Tower
. The elevator chimed, and I
was spit out into a friendly and luminous space I instantly fell in love with.
Thick burgundy rugs swallowed up the noise of my heels as I made my way toward
the tall brunette typing on her computer at the glass reception area. She was
immaculately dressed in a chocolate brown tight overall and seven-inch
stilettos that made her already long legs look sky high. Her glossy lips
diverted attention from her strict ponytail and gave her an ethereal flair.
Peering up, she smiled and pointed to her right at the white leather chairs
that blended in with the wall behind.

“Miss Stewart, please take a seat. Someone will be with you
shortly. Would you like some refreshments? We have latte macchiato, espresso,
Chai latte, or maybe bottled water? “ Her voice was professional but had a
sharp edge to it, as though she was used to giving commands. I mouthed a ‘no
thank you’, wondering how she even knew my name. Then I remembered the
receptionist downstairs who must have called up to announce my visit.
Basically, I was playing in a whole new league here, so I had to up my game.

I sat down and ignored the glossy magazines stacked neatly
on the polished coffee table. Keeping my poker face on, I looked around
Mayfield’s reception area as I waited for my new boss to greet me. Holy cow, I
had never seen anything like it. Spacious was an understatement. The place was
huge and classy in a minimalist kind of way. Mirrored glass reached from floor
to ceiling and offered a bird’s-eye view of the busy street below. Black and
white art adorned the wall behind the reception area. Huge Bonsai trees in
Chinese flower pots were arranged down the large corridor, which I assumed led
to the big guys’s offices. If I wanted to fit in I had to take Sylvie up on her
offer and let her take me shopping. She had been nagging about my outdated
wardrobe for ages, but until now I never felt a need to splurge money I didn’t
have on clothes.

I didn’t realize the brunette was standing before me until
she touched my shoulder with perfectly manicured fingers.

“Miss Stewart?” She handed me a thick manila envelope. “This
is your work contract highlighting your pay package and benefits. Furthermore,
you’ll also find a plane ticket to Italy, where you’ll be assisting Mr.
Mayfield in the Lucazzone acquisition, and information on what will be expected
of you as Mr. Mayfield’s senior assistant. The plane will board tomorrow night.
You can take the rest of today off to pack your bags, and find a pet minder for
the next two weeks in case you have a pet.” She trailed off and smiled again.
“If your passport’s expired, please report to us immediately and we’ll take
care of it.” She paused, waiting for my answer.

“My passport’s great. It’s never been so valid.” I cringed
inwardly at my odd choice of words, which did make me sound a bit dumb.

“Great.” Miss Brunette Receptionist beamed. “Congratulations
on your new job and have a nice trip.”

My jaw dropped as my brain finally registered the meaning of
her words. “Wait, did you say I’m going to Italy?” She nodded. “Tomorrow?” She
nodded again.

“Don’t miss your flight. Mr. Mayfield is expecting your
arrival.”

I nodded, dumbfounded, my thoughts still twirling around the
words
senior assistant.
But I was a
realtor. I had assisted James with the odd project, but he had never taken me
to Italy, and he sure as hell didn’t expect me to deal with an acquisition. I
swallowed hard and stood. I couldn’t speak Italian. Maybe I should have
clarified with James what this job entailed, to see if I could keep up with the
big guys, instead of assuming I’d get a few weeks of training.

“If you have any questions or would like to discuss your
contract, Rita Young from Human Resources will be happy to assist you,” the
brunette said. “Once you’re happy with the terms, please make sure to sign the
contract and post it back to us before you leave. I’m sorry, but work’s
calling. It was lovely meeting you.” She turned to walk away when I grabbed her
upper arm to stop her.

“Wait. I’m a little confused. You said I’d be assisting Mr.
Mayfield, but I haven’t even met him. So, who hired me?” I don’t know where the
question came from when there were at least a dozen more important ones I could
have asked. Such as, for example, did I get medical insurance or did I get a company
phone? Or, most importantly, how much I would get paid?

“That I don’t know. Since Ms. Young has been keen that the
contract’s to your liking, I can only assume you’ve been headhunted. Now, if
you’ll excuse me.” She batted her lashes impatiently. Slowly it dawned on me:
the woman was busy and I had taken up enough of her time.

“Thanks.”

The thick manila envelope was heavy in my hand as I made my
way downstairs, past the gathering of business people waiting for the elevators
in the main reception hall. Only as I reached the confined space of my car did
I dare let an idiotic grin fall into place. Seriously, I couldn’t stop grinning
because I, Brooke Stewart, had been headhunted. It was a huge word. An
important word. And it happened to
me
.
And I, Brooke Stewart, would go to Italy. I was about to take my very first
trip to Europe.

I fished my phone out of my purse and considered whom to
call first. Mom was my first option, but then again wasn’t my boyfriend
supposed to know first? He deserved to be put first, particularly after I
cheated on him. I ignored my guilty conscience as I speed-dialed Sean’s number.
He answered on the second ring.

“Sean McDermott.” I could hear the usual cafeteria
background noise: students talking and laughing, trays shifting, and cutlery
clinking. He was probably having his lunch break.

“Guess what?” I didn’t wait for his reply. “I just got a job
with Mayfield Realties.”

The line remained silent. I held my breath as I waited for
Sean’s reaction, which came a second too late. “Wow, that’s awesome. Let’s
celebrate tonight. I could pop over.” He sounded strained, which wasn’t the
reaction I expected. Maybe he had other issues on his mind and was trying hard
to be happy for me.

“Yeah, that’s not all. I’m going to Italy. There’s some big
acquisition, and I’m supposed to assist Mayfield.”

A pause again, then, “That’s great. We’ll celebrate next
weekend.”

“Yeah, about that. My flight’s tomorrow and I’ll be back in two
weeks.”

“Then we’ll catch up when you get back.”

Did I detect a hint of irritation in his voice? I frowned
and moistened my lips. “Are you okay, honey?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” He didn’t sound good at all. We remained
silent for a second or two. Sean resumed the conversation first. “Actually, no.
Can we talk? There’s something I need to tell you.”

Why didn’t I like the sound of that? My hands grew clammy,
and my heart began to pound like a sledgehammer “Sure.” I tried to infuse a
cheeriness I didn’t feel into my voice. “Our usual place? I can be there in
half an hour.”

“Okay.” He hung up.

“Bye,” I whispered, even though he couldn’t hear me. My
heart pounded so hard I thought my ribcage might explode. Maybe Sean saw me and
Mystery Guy. Maybe he somehow found out about last night before I got a chance
to tell him, and he cared after all. This was my chance to be honest and set
things straight before I headed off to Italy. I didn’t want to part with
something this major standing between us.

***

Twenty minutes later, I took my seat at our usual table
overlooking the east side of NY University campus and ordered a large latte, a
chicken panini, and fries on the side. The café was almost empty at this time
of day, which I attributed to lunch break being over and everyone stuck in
class. Sean arrived a few minutes later. I had a few seconds to regard him
before he spied me and strolled over. He was a few inches shorter than Mystery
Guy, with dark-blond locks that tended to curl behind his ears, and hazel eyes
to die for. If his blue shirt and black slacks didn’t scream PhD student and
teaching assistant, then his rimmed glasses did. He looked a bit like a book
nerd, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Coming from a family of
academics, Sean was pushed into following an academic career, but his dream had
always been becoming a pro racer. He had the physical strength, talent, and
experience, but not the will to pull it through against his family’s wishes.

“Hey, you.” I raised on my toes to kiss him on the lips. He
smiled and brushed his lips fleetly against mine. The feeling that something was
amiss intensified. “Want something?” I asked. My hunger dissipating, I pointed
at my still warm panini. Whatever he had to say, I decided I wouldn’t like it.

“I just ate,” Sean said, and took a seat opposite from me. I
didn’t fail to notice how much distance he put between us. He folded his hands
on the table and gazed up. His expression remained dead serious as he regarded
me. His typically warm hazel eyes exuded none of the love I usually saw in
them. Holy cow. I had never seen him this cold and calculated. It could only
mean one thing. I might not have much experience with relationships, but I
could see the telltale signs. My heart sank in my chest.

“You wanted to talk,” I prompted him to get it over with.

“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his locks, bidding for time.

“Just say it.” In spite of the turmoil going on inside, my
voice seemed surprisingly calm and composed.

“Okay.” His eyes settled on my lips for a second, as though
he was about to kiss me. And then his gaze moved down to his folded hands. He couldn’t
even look me in the eyes. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what? Go to work? Study for a PhD? Live in New York?
You’ll have to be more specific, Sean.” Hysteria bubbled up somewhere at the
back of my throat. I swallowed hard to get rid of it.

“Us.” His eyes settled on me, and in that instant I had my
answer. The last grain of warmth seeped out of his expression. Maybe he was
scared that I might make a scene, shout, ask questions, beg him to want me. “We
can’t do
us
anymore.”

He was breaking up. Call it intuition, but I had known it
since the strange phone call; I just didn’t want to acknowledge it straight
away. Strangely the realization didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. I
didn’t want to ask, and yet I had to know. “Is there someone else?”

“No.”

My gaze searched his expression for a clue that he was
lying, but found none. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“What then?” I asked.

He sighed and shook his head slightly. The passion I was
used to seeing in his eyes returned, but this time it had nothing to do with
me. “Do you ever get the feeling there’s more to life than what you have and
what you do? I mean, I wake up, go to work, come home, do the same things over
and over again. I don’t want to waste my life with this shit. I need more.”

I nodded even though his rambling made no sense whatsoever.
The guy was twenty-five. How could he possibly have a midlife crisis? Black
dots clouded my vision. I rubbed my eyes to get rid of the throbbing sensation
gathering behind them.

“So you’re going for the racing thing,” I said.

“A while back I got a sponsoring offer from a French auto
manufacturer,” Sean said, unaware of what his words did to me. “I’m flying over
to sign the deal. It’s done. I can’t back off.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” I said softly.

His hand wrapped around mine, and he looked straight into my
eyes. “You know you’re amazing, and under different circumstances I would have
never let you go. But this is what I’m supposed to do. I can’t focus on both my
career and this relationship. You deserve better than that.”

“Your calling, I get it.” You can still follow your calling
while remaining in a relationship with the one you once claimed to love, I felt
like shouting. And yet I remained composed, ignoring the sharp stab piercing my
chest. Since Sean was breaking up anyway, now was the time to tell him about my
cheating, but for some reason I remained quiet. Maybe it was selfish for me to
want to part ways in good light, even if that light was nothing but a sham.

He gave my hand a light squeeze. “I want us to stay
friends.”

I nodded. The pain in my chest grew stronger.

“So, you got a new job. Tell me about it,” Sean said,
suddenly changing the topic. I smiled bitterly and waved my hand.

“Compared to yours it’s nothing special really.”

He smiled, not pressing the issue. His eyes sparkled again,
and in that instant I felt a strong urge to get up and leave him behind. I had
been wrong to think what Sean and I had was special. He wasn’t ‘the one’. He
couldn’t be. ‘The one’ would never leave me behind.

“I’ve got to get packing,” I whispered, jumping from my
seat. A forced smile played on my lips.