Unwritten (24 page)

The typical jitters that I usually experienced, boarding the airplane flying back to D.C., didn’t occur this time. Maybe the green beads that hung around my neck were helping to ease my jitters. I wasn’t nervous, only anxious to get back to Rich and tell him that I wanted to try and work something out.

In order to preserve the integrity of our professional relationship, I thought we should take things slowly at first, but I still wanted a relationship with him. I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when I told him the news. My flight was scheduled to arrive at around three in the afternoon and I knew he was scheduled to be at work.

As soon as my flight landed, I collected my baggage and hailed a cab to the office. After paying the fare, I made my way up to the twelfth floor. I opened Rich’s office door, and there he stood, on the phone, gazing out his window. I probably should have announced my presence, but I just stood there in awe at the man before me.

He had removed his suit jacket and haphazardly thrown it across his chair. His broad shoulders filled out his light green, button-down shirt which was loosely tucked in at his well-defined waist. He had rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, showing off the definition in his tanned forearms. Oh … and his perfectly tailored pants fit his fine, firm ass to perfection.

Rich’s deep voice broke my trance as he spoke to the mystery caller. I decided to stand in the doorway so as not to disturb his conversation. I probably should have returned to my office and waited, but I just couldn’t stop myself from eavesdropping on his conversation.

“No, I don’t have plans for the weekend, yet. What did you have in mind,” he asked, and then paused to let the caller continue. “Yeah, I think that sounds perfect, actually. I haven’t gone skiing in awhile and I think it would be the perfect opportunity for us to get away from everything. I’ll book a flight out to Vermont later tonight and meet you in the morning,” he said before pausing to listen again.

I had never been skiing before. I usually avoided those types of activities since I wasn’t even all that coordinated on flat surfaces, but I imagine I would give it a try for Rich. Besides, we could spend most of our time cuddled in front of the roaring fire at our cozy little inn. We would ring in the New Year with the finest champagne and a kiss at midnight; maybe even with that bang that Cass had not so subtly suggested.

I was deep in thought about playing the role of Rich’s ski bunny when I heard him say those three little words to his mystery caller.

“I love you. I’ll see you in the morning,” Rich cooed.

I must have let out a louder-than-intended gasp because Rich turned around to see me standing in the doorway, just as he was ending his call.

“Brooke, I didn’t realize you’d been standing there. How-how much did you hear?”

“Sorry, Rich. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just-I just came to tell you that I was back in town.”

“It’s good to see you made it back safely. I hope you had a nice Christmas with your dad and friends.”

“I did, thank you. I couldn’t help but hear you making plans for New Year’s, I assume?” I asked distractedly.

“Yep, I’m going to head out later today for a ski trip. So, obviously, I will be out of the office for a few days. I sent you an e-mail earlier today with a few story assignments. You may report to Kyle with any questions, or concerns.” Rich added.

“Oh, OK. Well, I guess happy New Year, Rich. I’ll get started on these assignments and see you in a few days.”

“Happy New Year’s to you too, Brooke.” Rich replied casually.

Before I headed back into my office, I couldn’t help but take a quick peek at the vacation schedule which was posted in Caroline’s cubicle. Sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed when I saw that Janine, too, had some scheduled vacation the exact same time as Rich. He was doing this to me again. The first time he said he would wait for me, but he ended up with Aubrey Sullivan; now he was with big-breasted Janine.

I wanted to run back into his office and yell at him – shake him, even.
How could he do this to me again? He promised me he would wait for me all those years ago and instead he shacked up with Aubrey. Now, he feeds me all that bullshit about me not dreaming – that we’re real. Then just weeks later he’s telling fuckin’ Janine that he loves her? Right again, Rich – not only am I dreaming, but it’s a fucking nightmare! Oh, and Happy New Year – my ass.

Instead of waltzing back into Rich’s office and letting him have it, I decided to take the higher ground and moped back into my office. I wouldn’t let him see me like this. I couldn’t control the tears that fell from my eyes and clouded my vision as I tried to access my e-mail.

Cass was right when she said he wouldn’t wait for me forever.
Why did I always think I knew best? I had fallen in love with Rich, maybe even ten years ago, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
With my right hand, I began rubbing the beaded necklace that I had tucked behind my sweater before I entered the office. Just thinking again about Rich’s kind gesture that day only months ago, brought more tears to my eyes.

February 2012

W
eeks had passed since I heard Rich professing his love for Janine over the phone. I gagged each time I was forced to watch those two flirt endlessly. I always knocked before entering Rich’s office for fear of walking in on them getting busy on one of Rich’s couches, or spread out naked across his expansive desk. The image conjured up in my mind was so depressing to me that I was convinced, if I actually saw it with my own two eyes, I would jump from the 11
th
Street Bridge, if given the opportunity.
OK, perhaps, I’m being overdramatic, but point is – it hurt like hell.

I had decided in the weeks following New Year’s Eve that maybe Washington D.C. wasn’t the place for me after all. I missed my dad, Cass and Kaitlyn, like crazy, and I thought that I might be able to move closer to them while still staying at a newspaper in a larger market. Besides, seeing Rich and Janine together just made it that much harder for me; I just couldn’t take the pain anymore.

The irony didn’t escape me, either. I had avoided Rich in the beginning because I wanted my career at the
Post
more than I thought I wanted a relationship. Turns out, less than six months later, I wouldn’t have Rich, or my job in D.C. and not because it didn’t work out between us. Truth is – I did this. I never even gave us a chance. And, now he had moved on with someone else – again.

I had applied for a few reporting jobs throughout the Midwest – a couple in Detroit, one in Cleveland and another at the
Chicago Tribune
. It was just another ordinary Tuesday morning around the office. I had just gotten back to my desk, after covering a small-scale political rally just blocks from our building, when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number that flashed on the caller ID.

“Hello this is Brooke,” I answered.

“Hi, Brooke, this is Melissa with the
Chicago Tribune
. We have received your resume and would like to schedule an interview with you at your convenience. Would next week work with your schedule?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, thank you for the opportunity, Melissa. Next week would work with my schedule. If you could please just send an itinerary to my e-mail, I will be sure to make it work.” I assured her.

“Thanks again, and I look forward to my interview in Chicago,” I added, before completing the call.

Just as I was hitting end on my iPhone, I looked up to see Rich standing in my doorway. Before I could explain, I saw his face redden as he turned and abruptly exited my office. It wasn’t my intention to hurt Rich, but I needed to escape. This was all too much for me. I never expected to meet him again after all these years and it was more than I could handle. I had been an emotional wreck since the holidays and I needed to find my place again. And, unfortunately that place was without Rich Davis and without the career and city that I had always hoped for. I allowed myself to giggle momentarily when I secretly wished my next editor would be a sixty-year-old man with a receding hairline and potbelly.
Please, I can NOT handle any more Nick Lachey look-a-likes!

After taking a few minutes to compose myself, I walked the few feet to Rich’s office and abandoned my new protocol of knocking first. Much to my surprise, I saw Janine sitting in one of Rich’s office chairs with him sitting on the other side of the desk, looking visibly upset. Before I had time to take in anything else, I heard her utter the words I never expected to hear – “I’m pregnant.”

I wanted to walk away, rather run away – take a cab to the airport and take the next flight out of this goddamn city. I don’t care where it took me, I just needed to escape. Instead, my feet wouldn’t move. They remained planted in Rich’s doorway.
Why did I keep walking in on his private conversations? I wasn’t trying to be a glutton for punishment.

Rich looked up and saw me standing there, probably hearing the bated breath finally escaping from my lips. Walking to the other side of his desk, his knees rubbed up against
hers
. “Don’t you worry about a thing, we’ll work this out – together,” he added as he looked at me.

I escaped his office just as abruptly as he had left mine just moments before – I had to leave. I couldn’t stay here in the same building any longer. I would just go home and wait for my e-mail from the
Tribune
.

I went home that afternoon and called in sick the next two mornings. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I intended on ever stepping foot inside that building again. My interview with the
Tribune
was scheduled on Monday and if that didn’t work out, I was considering just moving back in with my dad for awhile. Maybe I could crawl back and beg for my old job. Sure, it wasn’t glamorous, but no one broke my heart in all the years spent there, either.

For the third consecutive morning, I called Caroline and told her I was still suffering from the flu. I think she suspected that it was just a lie, but she didn’t push it – especially on today, of all days. Valentine’s Day wasn’t typically a favorite of mine anyways and the entire Rich situation just made it seem that much worse.

In the years since Mom died, whenever I became sad or depressed about anything, I always missed her even more than usual. It’s probably because she was always my constant – my rock. As a little girl, whenever I had an earache, stomach ache, or skinned knee, she would always seem to make it better. If I woke up in the middle of the night with a bad dream she would chase the monsters away from underneath my bed. As I got older, when I got a bad grade on a test, or if my crush didn’t invite me to a dance, she would always find a way to cheer me up.

I found myself sitting on my bed that Valentine’s Day, missing my mom even more than losing Rich. My mom’s little presents that I used to look forward to on Valentine’s Day after Jay and I had broken up hadn’t been an option for a number of years. She would always send care packages when I was in college that were chockful of jelly hearts, conversation hearts, red and pink socks, glittery stickers and a little mom, love note. One year I even remember a heart-shaped necklace in the package.

The boys in my life never seemed to top my mom’s gifts. Jay tried once. He ordered me flowers through some mail-order company when he should’ve just called a local florist directly. I remember how disappointed he was when I told him the flowers had arrived half-dead. I guess it was the thought that counted, but I still wasn’t very impressed. I always envisioned him showing up at my doorstep with the flowers in hand, but it never worked out that way.

This year wouldn’t be any different. It took all my effort to take a shower that morning, but since I hadn’t showered for the last three days, I decided it was time to wipe away the sadness. I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up my apartment and packing for my trip to Chicago. As evening approached, I decided to watch sappy chic flicks, drink wine and eat chocolates until they made me sick. My only date consisted of some FaceTime with Cass and Kaitlyn.

After running out to complete a few errands before my trip, I came home and changed into an oversized, hooded sweatshirt and black yoga pants before popping
Hope Floats
into my DVD player. Harry Connick Jr. and his sexy southern swagger always made my heart flutter a bit. I had just sat down with a large glass of Moscato and a big bowl of popcorn when my phone buzzed next to me. I looked at the screen and saw my favorite little face looking back at me. I quickly connected the call so I could talk to my two favorite ladies.

“Hi Aunt Brookie. Happy Valentime’s Day,” Kaitlyn chirped through the line.

“Hi, Princess. Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too. Did you get any flowers from your boyfriends?” I asked.

“Eew, boys have cooties, Aunt Brookie. Mommy told me so,” Kaitlyn replied with disgust.

I chuckled at my goddaughter’s innocent response. “Of course, she did, Princess. Speaking of your mommy, where is she?”

“I’m right here. So, tell me …” she said, as she lightly pushed Kaitlyn out of the view screen “did Mr. Boss-man try anything today? I figured if he was going to use any day to make a grand gesture to win your affection it would be today,” Cass said.