MISTAKEN - The Complete First Season (2 page)

“
Y
ou can set
your things down over here.” The nurse pointed to a desk in the corner of the otherwise open space. One wall was all glass and there was a fountain outside. The space had an instant calming effect. “Feel free to put your purse in the drawer or wherever.”

I nodded and went to put my purse in the drawer. The top had come open and I when I went to fasten it, I saw the stupid business card that had managed to work its way up to the top again. I shoved it farther into my purse without looking at it.

“We were so glad when you called. We haven't had anyone that was willing to come in and play on a regular basis. It'll be nice for the patients.” She gave me a smile and motioned for me to follow her.

I held the music to my chest and followed her out to a large living area that was decorated in neutral tones. A grand piano sat in the corner and the nurse motioned to it. “Feel free to stay as long as you like. It's a volunteer position, after all.” She gave me another smile and turned to leave the room.

“Anything in particular you want me to play?”

She shook her head. “Whatever you like. I doubt anyone will come in to listen, but just having the music in the background is soothing, you know?”

I nodded. “Thanks. Let me know if I'm bothering anyone and I'll stop.”

“You won't bother anyone. We really appreciate that you wanted to do this. You know, considering...”

I shrugged. I wasn't sure what she was considering, other than my father's name.

I headed over to the piano bench and set my music on the stand. I hadn't played at all since before Daniel died, but something seemed right about allowing myself to play for hospice patients. It was like I could allow myself some enjoyment because it was for a greater cause. I don't think I would have been able to do it if I was just playing in my apartment.

I sat down on the bench and looked at the keys and ran my fingers over them without playing any notes. They still felt so familiar, even though I hadn't touched a piano for over a year. Thirteen months felt like a long time in many ways, but it still felt like yesterday in others. I shook out my hands and cleared my throat. I always felt a little jittery before performing, but this was ridiculous. I didn't even have an audience.

I took a deep breath and I started to play. I thought I would need the sheet music because it had been so long, but it was like I hadn't missed even a day of practice. I closed my eyes and began to play the Chopin piece that Daniel had loved so much.

When I opened my eyes again, I had played three pieces, well over an hour of music. I thought that my heart would break, playing those pieces. But it didn't. It was almost a relief to play, to get the music out of my system. Maybe not playing had been too harsh—a punishment I didn't deserve.

I sat there for a few more minutes, enjoying the silence. I felt close to him in those rare moments. It was almost like I could feel him with me.

I smiled to myself and gathered my unused music from the stand. I stood and I saw someone was sitting on one of the sofas with his back to me. I was glad that I hadn't known there was an audience. I might not have been able to play at all.

“That was beautiful, Jen.” Brandon stood and turned to face me, giving me a weak smile. He ran a hand through his dark curls.

The bottom fell out of my stomach. “Thanks.”

He gave me a little nod and walked out of the room, down one of the halls and disappeared into one of the patient rooms.

I wanted to kick myself for not being able to say anything more to him. If anyone knew how hard it was to lose someone, it was me.

I
set
the small glass vase with a bouquet of daffodils on my desk and sat down. A street vendor was selling them on the way in, and I couldn't help myself. Something about the yellow and orange reminded me that it was spring, which made me smile. Spring was my favorite season. It always felt like a new beginning, and I definitely needed a new beginning.

I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and tossed my purse in, just like I did every morning. I saw the business card fly out and float down to the floor. I knew what it was before it even landed. I had tried to forget him, tried to put him out of my mind. I hadn't seen him again at the hospice center after the first time I'd played the piano there. I had looked for him each time, but it was pretty clear that whoever he had been there visiting was no longer there.

It had been almost two months since the night I met him and I couldn't help but think there was some force that did not want to ever let me ever forget it. I picked the card up from the floor and looked at the message again. It was difficult to admit, but I had done the same thing several times in the past few weeks every time the thing somehow found its way to the top of my purse. I wanted to call him. I wanted to make sure he was alright. No matter what I did, I couldn't get him out of my mind.
This was no mistake
. I wished that I could believe what he had written. I longed to believe it, but I just couldn't let myself.

I turned on my computer and watched as the Baxter & Bishop logo flashed onto the screen. I gave a silent prayer of gratitude again for Melissa and how she had helped me to get this job. Of course, it helped a lot that her dad was the Bishop in Baxter & Bishop. It was hard to get a decent job, even with a shiny new MBA from Georgetown and a last name that meant something. Getting out of D.C. had been a blessing—there were just too many memories of Daniel there. I missed my dad every day, but at least he had to come back to California every so often to meet with his constituents.

I slipped the business card into the top drawer of my desk. I closed the drawer and willed myself to put him out of my mind. I had no time to think about what-ifs and could-have-beens. I still felt like I should have called that first week if only to let him know I was thinking about him after meeting him again at the hospice. It was too late now. It had been two months and I was sure that Brandon had already forgotten me. I might not have been the type of girl who had one night stands, but I was pretty sure he was the type of guy who did.

I was grateful for my job, but it wasn't anything that I loved. Marketing had never been my favorite thing in school, but I seemed to be pretty good at it. We had already landed two accounts that I was working on.

Robert walked past my office and poked his head in the door. I had to force myself not to wince at the glare coming from the light bouncing off his shiny head. The few strands of brown hair that he tried to comb over the large bald spot didn't help at all. "You busy, Jenna?"

I smiled and motioned for him to sit down. “What's up?"

He took a seat in front of my desk, then took a deep breath and blew it out in a long sigh. He crossed his legs then uncrossed them again. "Do you know Tomojii?"

I tried to catch his gaze, but he wouldn't look me in the eye. "The electronics company? Sure. Who doesn't?"

He gave a skittish laugh and pulled at his tie. He tilted his head from side to side. "Yes, that's the Tomojii I'm talking about."

I nodded and tried to make eye contact again. I saw him look at the wall and then over his shoulder at the door. "Are we getting them as a client?"

He gave the same nervous laugh again. "Um, maybe. They want you to meet with some of their marketing people. In Tokyo." He fidgeted, pulling at his fingers until the joints popped. "You can handle that, right?"

“They want
me
? Are you sure?”

He nodded his head and still wouldn't look me in the eye. He picked up a rock from the corner of my desk. "Yeah, they requested you by name. Probably the family connection."

“Right.” I nodded, feeling the heat rising into my face. Even though Melissa had been instrumental in getting me an interview, it was my father's name that had landed me the job. I don't know why it still pissed me off so much. I just felt like no one cared about what I could do—only what my father could do for them.

He gave me a curt nod and finally made eye contact with me, but he looked away almost immediately. Something wasn't right. "Good, good. You leave on Thursday." He stood up and turned to go back out the door.

"Robert, is everything alright?" I felt a gnawing in the pit of my stomach that told me it wasn't. There was nothing normal about the way he was acting.

He turned back to me and forced a smile. "Sure. Fine. It's a big account is all. A lot riding on it. You understand."

I nodded. "Of course. I'll do my best work for you." Maybe that's all it was—a huge account and he was just nervous about landing it. I couldn't imagine that he feared for his job. He'd been working there for years and was the right-hand man to Melissa's father. “Are you going to be coming, too?”

He gave me another weak smile. "I'm afraid not. I'm up to my neck in work here as it is. I know you'll do a great job. You always do." He turned to the door and looked back at me when he got to the doorway. The look he gave me was indescribable, something between terror and concern.

I looked up at him. "Was there something else?"

He forced out another nervous laugh and it made my skin crawl this time. "No, just be careful."

I nodded. “Of course. Is there some reason in particular?”

"No, no, of course not. It can just be nerve wracking traveling alone. That's all." He gripped the doorway before he left, pausing for just a moment too long. Then he walked away without saying another word.

I turned back to my computer and got to work. There was no way I was letting this opportunity slip through my fingers, even if they only cared about getting to my father through me. I could blow them away with my stellar work and make them sorry they ever cared about getting to my dad.

I just couldn't help but feel like there was something strange going on with my boss.

"
O
kay
, let me get this straight. Robert asked you to go to frickin'
Japan
? Are you frickin' serious?" Melissa couldn't contain herself. I wasn't able to tell if she was excited for me or pissed that they hadn't asked her. The 'frickins' always started to fly as soon as she was riled up about something.

"Yep. I'm leaving on Thursday." I almost had to run to keep up with her, she had started walking so fast.

She stopped and turned to me, her voice flat. "That is so frickin' awesome for you." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm pissed. I am. I mean, I've been interning there my whole life and no one has ever asked me to go farther than the Starbucks on the corner."

My face fell and we started walking down the sidewalk again. "Shit, I'm sorry, Mel. Do you want me to ask if you can go, too? I know you've been there longer and--"

She stopped again. "Are you frickin' serious?" She glared at me. "This is a huge opportunity. You need to take it and you don't need me there fucking it up for you." She turned and started walking again. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at them. No one takes me seriously there." She took a deep breath and blew it out in a long sigh. "Why aren't you there working tonight? Don't you need to be working on your presentation?"

I shrugged. "Robert told me what I’ve done is amazing and that he'll handle the rest. He told me to take the rest of the afternoon off."

We walked in the door of the co-op and headed toward the yoga studio. We went into the changing room. Melissa didn't say another word to me and I could tell she was seething. We went into the studio and rolled out our mats and sat down while we waited for class to begin. "Mel, I just want to make it right. I owe you so big for getting me this job, for helping me get the hell out of D.C."

She shook her head. "You don't owe me anything, Jenna. Getting you out to San Francisco was as much for me as it was for you." She reached over and patted my shoulder without making eye contact with me. "I hoped maybe with you here they'd see me as something more than a secretary, but I guess not. It isn't your fault. I'll get over this. I'll talk to my dad and see what I need to do to move up the ladder." She finally turned to me. "I don't blame you, so stop sulking, okay?"

I hadn't realized that I was sulking, but I forced a smile for her anyway.

The yoga instructor finally came in and we started going through our class. Mel and I had started taking classes there a few weeks before. It seemed like it was helping both of us keep our stress levels from work in check. She also knew I had met my hot one night stand in the same building, so it hadn't been that hard to talk her into it.

I let my stress melt off and tried to get to the place where I would enjoy the final meditation breathing at the end of class. I was somewhere between a dream and an awake state when I heard Melissa's voice in my ear. "Holy hotness near the door, Batman. Don't turn around."

I opened one eye and glared at her. "Melissa." My voice was sharper than I had meant for it to be, but I closed my eyes again.

She snickered. "When you see him, you'll understand why I interrupted. Just remember I saw him first."

I shook my head from side to side and tried to get back into my meditative state. It was impossible. I was dying to look behind me to see who Melissa found so attractive that she'd ruin our meditation. She deserved to have a hot guy for herself. I gave up on meditating and we both stood up to roll up our mats.

I felt a bolt of electricity run from the top of my head down to my toes and I knew who it was before it even registered in my brain. I prayed that he wouldn't see me, but he turned and met my gaze. He gave me a lopsided grin as he rolled up his yoga mat. He had already recognized me. I think he had been looking at my ass the entire class.

Melissa leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I told you and I call dibs. Fuck, is he beautiful or what?"

He walked up to us before Melissa had the chance to run to him. He gave me a wide smile and I couldn't help but admire the way his tight t-shirt hugged his chest muscles. "Hello, Jen. Long time, no see."

Melissa turned to me with her mouth open. "Jen?" She turned to him then back to me again. "Aww, fuck. Fuckity-fuck me and my bad luck."

I smiled. "Brandon, this is my potty-mouthed friend, Melissa." I motioned back to her. "Melissa, Brandon."

She held out her hand and he extended his to shake it. She looked him in the eye. "Nice to finally meet you, Brandon. I have the worst frickin' luck in the world. And with that, I'll be off." She turned back to me with a smile and motioned with her arm toward the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I couldn't help but giggle a little. "That gives me a lot of latitude, Mel."

She grinned at me and waggled her eyebrows as she sashayed out of the studio and into the changing room.

He turned back to me and smiled again. "She seems like a nice girl. Filthy mouth, but nice." His smile turned into a grin.

I nodded. "She's been a good friend."

"Everyone needs a good friend. I'm glad you have her." He smiled at me again. "I was sad that you never called."

I raised an eyebrow. "Sad?
You
were sad?" I emphasized the “
you”
just little too hard and regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth. Of course he could be sad. He had just lost someone close to him.

"I can be sad, yes." His smile fell just a little, as though he was thinking about his recent loss. "But I suppose
disappointed
is the better word. Very disappointed."

I looked down at my hands. "I… I wasn't sure what I would say."

He took my hands in his. "You could have said anything, you know. But, hello would have been good. Hello is always a good thing to say."

I looked up at him and met his gaze. "Hello, Brandon."

His wide grin returned. "Hello, Jen." He squeezed my hands. "I don't suppose you're free for dinner?"

"I suppose I am. But only for dinner." I managed a small smile before I broke eye contact.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm only available for dinner myself." He tried to get me to look back up at him, but I had turned my gaze to the window. The people I could see passing by through the tinted glass became fascinating to me as I tried to avoid his gaze. "I actually have a late flight tonight, so if you could just have dinner, that would be fantastic."

I turned my face back toward his with a tiny smile on my lips. "Okay, dinner. Only dinner."

He nodded and gave my hands a final squeeze. His goofy grin was back. "I don't remember asking for anything more."