Caterina
As I drive downtown to meet with my new boss for lunch, where I’ll finalize my contract and HR paperwork before starting my new job on Monday, I should be feeling excited. I was thrilled when they offered me the position initially. It represented my hard work paying off. While some classmates are still job-hunting, I’ve managed to secure a role right out of graduation, always the diligent student who follows the rules.
I should be feeling grateful and content with how things are progressing in my life. Instead, I’m preoccupied with thoughts of Gianni, questioning whether what happened last night was wrong, and worrying about Tatiana finding out and potentially hating me. Luciano is a distant thought now, but Tatiana's possible disapproval would be a heartbreak I might never recover from. She’s like the sister I never had. Is it worth risking that for someone as extraordinary as her father?
Incredible, attractive, and so adept at igniting my desires. Even hours after leaving his bed, I can still feel the effects of last night. I was completely at his mercy, overwhelmed by the emotions he stirred in me. In his presence, I felt warmth and joy that I hadn’t known before.
My desire for him was strong before, but knowing he feels the same way makes him nearly impossible to get out of my mind. I even hesitated to shower this morning, not wanting to lose his scent from my skin. It’s consuming me, and I can’t help but revel in it. Why didn’t I feel this way with Luciano?
That’s a pointless question. Everything was always centered around him.
I pull into an empty parking spot in the garage and let out a sigh. How can I be so happy about Gianni when everything else feels like it’s falling apart? I was already dissatisfied, and now it’s harder than ever to hide it. I have no choice but to shake off these thoughts quickly. Skipping the meeting or turning down the job would be career suicide, leaving me broke and asking my dad for a place to stay. The thought of disappointing him is unbearable.
My phone rings suddenly, startling me. I glance at the screen and see "DAD" flashing.
If I were superstitious, I’d think he could read my mind. He always seemed to know what I was thinking, especially after we lost Mom. He had a knack for being in tune with my thoughts, anticipating my needs before I even expressed them.
He lost his wife and couldn’t handle the idea of losing someone else again. My face goes hot, and my stomach drops like on the way down the first hill on a roller coaster.
He can’t know about Gianni and me. There is literally no way he knows about it. And somehow, my hackles have risen. I need to get a grip before answering, or else I’ll end up making him suspicious. I’ve never been a good liar, and he’s a detective for a reason.
At least I have an excuse to get off the phone quickly.
“Hey, Dad,” I say after accepting the call and turning on the speakerphone. “You caught me on my way in to sign the last of the paperwork at the firm.”
“Don’t let me keep you.” Pride resonates in his voice and echoes through the car. “I only wanted to check in and see how you’re doing and if you’re excited about the new job?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” And why not? I’ve spent the past four years preparing for this next step in my career.
“Your mom would be so proud of you,” he murmurs.
The man has a talent for knowing just what to say to make me feel like a complete piece of shit. Even if he doesn’t mean to or realize it.
“I hope she would be,” I whisper, closing my eyes before touching the back of my head to the seat. Of all times, the memory of being tied to Gianni’s bed pops up.
She wouldn’t be so proud if she knew about that.
“Is everything okay with you?”
Because I need to change the subject. It’s already tough enough to be the single shining star in my father’s life, feeling like there’s a spotlight on me at all times. I know I’m lucky—some people don’t have any sort of relationship with their parents, much less a loving one.
It’s just that there have been more times than I can count when his love has felt more like smothering.
“Just fine.” I can almost see him at his desk, which I’d bet anything is covered in used coffee cups from the truck down the street from the station. He lives on caffeine, especially when he’s deep in the middle of a case. That would explain how tight his voice sounds.
He’s not much better at lying than I am.
“It doesn’t sound so fine. You sound tired and stressed.”
An irritable sigh tells me I’m right. “Eh, you know how it is. Sometimes you spend weeks or months on a case and get nowhere, then something breaks, and you’re fighting to keep your head above water when all the new information comes pouring in.”
“That sounds like a good problem. It means you’re on the right track.”
“Yes. Yes, it does, and I think I am.”
“Don’t let me keep you from it,” I joke, eyeing the door leading from the garage into the building. “I’d better get moving. Can’t be late before I’ve even started the job.”
“Get in there and show them what you’re made of.”
“I’m signing papers, Dad. Not actually starting.”
“Then use good penmanship.”
I’m laughing as I end the call, and even though my stomach sank at first, I’m glad his timing worked out like it did. Before I pulled into the garage, I was feeling lower than I realized. And I don’t know why. I have everything to feel happy and hopeful about.
Even the breakup, which I now realize I didn’t confess to Dad. Great. He’s going to take it the wrong way when he finds out it took days to tell him my longtime relationship ended.
Note to self: find a new apartment ASAP. When I tell him, it’ll go easier if I already have a place to live. Less chance of him trying to move me into my old bedroom.
He would never understand this temporary arrangement, so it’s best if I don’t try to explain it to him. It won’t matter to him that I live in an entirely different wing of the house. I’m staying under the roof of a man closer to his age than mine, and Tatiana’s in Europe, so we don’t have a chaperone or whatever. His brain might explode if he finds out.
So he can’t. Ever.
The clock is ticking, so I hurry out of the car and into the building, pep-talking myself the entire time. Out of the elevator pours a group of people around my age, probably on their way to lunch at one of the cafes peppering the business district.
I’ll be one of them soon.
I feel nothing but boredom at the idea. No exhilaration, no eagerness to get started.Shake it off, damn it.
Once I reach the tenth floor, I step up to the desk across from the elevator doors. “I’m here to see Eric Adams. We have a twelve-thirty appointment.”
Once the perky girl behind the desk announces me through her headset and offers me a seat while I wait, I take a slow look around the open, sunny reception area. People walk past, carrying folders and tablets. A couple of guys discuss last night’s baseball game while they wait for the elevator.
They’ll be my coworkers in a few days. I wonder if they ever question their choices. Everybody does, I guess, but we get through it. We honor our choices, and this was my choice. I need to follow through with it.
Twenty minutes later, sitting in Eric Adams’ office—the largest corner office on the floor, even nicer than Gianni’s office at home—I have to grind my teeth together to smile through the anecdotes about recent studies and reports by the firm’s managerial team.
“You need to have a sharp eye and a quick mind,” he points out over his loaded salad. “But you’ve proven you possess both. I truly think you’re going to do great things here. And certainly, you’ll have all the support you need to fulfill your potential. That’s one thing we pride ourselves on.”
It’s when he slides a thick folder full of benefits details my way that I see he’s not kidding around. I already knew the firm had a great benefits package, or else I wouldn’t have accepted the job. That was another reason I knew I’d be an idiot not to snap up the chance.
Now, with everything in front of me in black and white, I could kick myself for the vague sense of disappointment still clinging like a cheap perfume.
“As you can see, we offer four weeks paid vacation, a minimum of one week of sick time with an additional day for every six months employment. Your medical insurance is fully covered from day one. We offer 401K matching, as well as a profit-sharing program once you’ve reached three years with us.”
“This is really impressive.” I flip through, scanning the pages, before coming to the section on maternity leave.
He notices and clears his throat. “Somewhere down the line, that might be of interest to you. Then again, what do I know?” His laughter is friendly, if awkward, as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He seems like a nice, middle-aged man, if socially clueless. But it’s not like we have to be best friends or anything like that.
“Six months paid leave?” It sounds too good to be true.
“And you can use your vacation time along with that to extend it.” He shrugs at my surprise. “We offer onsite daycare, too. We have a tuition reimbursement program if you want to continue your education. The sky’s the limit. We believe in taking care of our people.”
I’m too overwhelmed to do much more than laugh. “I can see that.”
And I’m a complete moron. I’m sitting here with a job most people would kill for. I won’t have to worry about anything. The pay is great. I could get my master’s on their dime. And when the time comes to start a family, I’ll have their support.
Do I want to sign the contract? Not really.
I’m supposed to be mature and always level-headed. But the stories he tells about analyzing numbers on a spreadsheet bore the hell out of me. If he didn’t seem so excited by them, I might not care as much. There must be something wrong with me if I can’t see what makes this job so interesting.
Maybe there’s something I’m not getting yet. Maybe I need to get started before seeing what makes it special. If not, it’ll be a matter of adjusting my attitude.
Oh, no. My heart sinks when the truth hits me in the middle of another boring anecdote. It’s like Luciano all over again. I’m talking myself into it.
But this isn’t the same as convincing myself to stay with a boyfriend who doesn’t make me happy. How many people are actually happy with their work? That’s why it’s called work and not play.
It’s childish of me to think I’m special.
When he slides the contract my way, I pick up the pen and sign my name before doubt can stop me. This is for the best. Feeling bored but secure is better than being unemployed and too stressed to enjoy my life. That’s what I need to keep in mind, and it’s what helps me smile genuinely when I stand and shake his hand. It’s a lot easier to be happy when you’ve got money in the bank, and you know you won’t lose your job if you get sick.
This is real life, not some fantasy world where everybody gets what they want.
Though I did get Gianni, didn’t I? Even though it won’t last, at least one secret dream came true. I guess good things don’t have to last forever to matter. Is this a life lesson or something?
For the second time today, my phone rings at exactly the wrong time. In this case, I’m heading back to my car, goosebumps beginning to cover my arms and legs when I think about getting back to the house, back to Gianni. I know he’ll be busy, but what happens tonight, when it’s just the two of us alone in that big house?
Looking at my phone, I realize it isn’t Dad calling to make sure I remembered how to spell my name when the time came. The guilt rises when I discover Tatiana’s name on the screen. I should be happy to hear from her. It’s the first time she’s called since she left for France, even so, I’m afraid the slightest tremble in my voice will give me away. Who could have imagined how much would change over the course of a handful of days?
I can’t think about that now.