Page 22 of Desk & Deception
“Can’t help with that.” Julian leaned back in his chair. “But I’ll reassign Kaylee today.”
“Thanks.” I slid my phone back in my pocket. “I appreciate it, especially since I lost my patience and already let her know she wasn’t on my team anymore, right before I called you.”
Julian shook his head with a wry chuckle. “Then I guess I’ll get right on that.”
After thanking him, I got up and walked out, feeling strange. I had assumed that admitting I was wrong to Julian would’ve felt harder than winning any argument ever had. But he hadn’t judged me too harshly, which made the whole thing easier.
I headed back to my office, relieved that the conversation with him was over. When I sat down to dive back into my workload, a new email from the therapist’s office popped up. My shoulders tensed as I opened it, only to find that it confirmed my appointment for Wednesday and asked me to fill out some initial paperwork.
It felt significant. Like the first real step I had taken that was more than just regret.
Out of pure habit, I reached for my phone to call Lila and tell her about it. The motion stopped me cold.
She was my person. The one I wanted to share things with. But I had pushed her away.
I dialed her number anyway. It went straight to voicemail, as I assumed it would.
I left a message, keeping it simple. “I’ll try to keep the calls and texts to a minimum. I get that you need space, and I don’t want to intrude too much. But I wanted to let you know that I understand you were asking me to protect us. I should’ve done that. I’m sorry.”
I ended the call and set the phone down, staring at the screen until it went dark. Not because I actually thought she’d call back. But some part of me still hoped she would.
11
LILA
Istood in front of my bathroom mirror, carefully blending concealer beneath my eyes before adding the last touches of makeup. Fridays were always the worst days on set when we weren’t filming over the weekend. Everyone wanted to finish strong before the time off, directors suddenly remembered shots they wanted to add, and people who had been perfectly pleasant all week transformed into stressed-out versions of themselves.
It didn’t help that I was grouchy and exhausted.
I’d fallen into a pattern that kept me from completely falling apart. Work kept me moving and functional during the day, and the loneliness only really hit at night when there were no distractions. I still missed Reid so damn much.
His voice messages had quietly become part of my routine too even though I still hadn’t answered a single one.
At first, he’d called and texted constantly, desperation bleeding through every word. But over the past several days, he’d backed off. Now he only left one voicemail a day. He didn’t overtly apply pressure, and there were no demands for a response.
But there was a whole lot of honesty.
He apologized for dismissing my concerns and gave specific examples that showed he finally understood why I was upset. Told me he moved Kaylee to another attorney. And that he was going to therapy.
That had shocked me even more than him removing the flirty paralegal from his daily work life. It had also frustrated me because, although I felt vindicated that he was acknowledging the issues I’d been trying to make him see, it made me feel as though the emotional labor I’d put into our relationship had been wasted.
More confusingly, knowing that he was putting work into becoming a better man gave me a sliver of hope for reconciliation. Which made it that much harder when he told me he missed me. At the end of every single message.
I kept pretending I wasn’t really listening. That I only played them because I didn’t want them clogging up my voicemail, as if my phone couldn’t store dozens of messages. But that wasn’t true.
I could recite everything he’d said, almost word for word. Including the places where his voice had cracked, the pauses before certain sentences, and the exhaustion I’d heard underneath his words.
It scared me because listening meant I was still hoping. And that felt dangerous, even though my best friend had encouraged me to experience whatever I was feeling.
Shaking off my thoughts, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My makeup had done its magic, and I looked relatively normal.
“You’ve got this,” I told myself.
Then I grabbed my bag and headed for the studio.
Unfortunately,the day dragged. And not because I was looking forward to having the weekend off, which would’ve been the usual reason.
I was given the last look tasks for the shoots, which was a fast-paced role that required meticulous attention to detail under tight time constraints. But it was also high pressure because the entire cast and crew were waiting for me each time I needed to fix the talent’s makeup.
