REMIND ME NOT TO SEND YOU FLOWERS
Beth had insisted that Juliet take the rest of the day off, much to her objection. She was convinced that work was exactly what she needed, while Beth insisted that Juliet needed the day to regroup. Finally, after Beth's incessant urging, Juliet gave in and gathered some materials she would need in order to work from home.
She didn't have to tell Sheena to take her messages or reschedule her appointments because Beth had already handled it, so she walked through the office, quietly saying her daily goodbyes. It was awkward and she knew everyone was looking at her. She knew everyone had to have heard everything that had happened in her office with Eric--after all, nobody had bothered to close the door.
As she approached the elevator, the bell rang and two men--two very tall men--stepped off and came straight toward her. The tall one boasted gray hair and a smile and the larger one seemed to hang back a little. Well, so much for going home.
"Juliet Carson, I presume?" The gray-haired one asked.
"Yes," she answered warily. "And you are...?"
"Oh. Pardon my manners," he said, extending his arm. "Carl Reynolds. This, here, is my brother and business associate, Walt."
"Mr. Reynolds," she replied, shaking is hand. "With all due respect, I've had my fill of the name Reynolds today. I was just on my way out..."
"Well, rest assured, Miss Carson, not all of us Reynoldses are so, um, easily pushed over."
This statement struck an unpleasant chord with her in more ways than one. "Excuse me? I'm afraid I don't follow..."
"Allow me to rephrase myself. I understand there was a meeting this morning with the, um, CEO of my company and it apparently wasn't...ah, executed to Reynolds Construction's professional standards."
Juliet was floored. Had Eric actually gone back and told everyone what had happened? Had he told them...? She felt like she was going to be sick. "Um, professional standards?" She choked out.
"Reynolds Construction is a family-owned, successful business, building dreams for twenty years now. You see, I own Reynolds and Walt, here, is the Vice President of operations. Eric is my son. I appointed him CEO because...well, let's not get into that, but sometimes the person you think is right for the job just...isn't. No matter their job title."
"So...you're saying that because this morning's meeting didn't...pan out, that you thought you were going to come here and fix it?"
"Well, from one business owner to another, Miss Carson, wouldn't you do the same thing if you were in my position?"
She studied him for a moment and nodded her head. "Yes, I suppose I would."
"Look, Eric is a...bit of a dreamer. A little wishy washy at times. Not too, uh, assertive or confident, he's--"
"Your son," Juliet snapped.
"Yes."
"Yet, nothing like you."
Carl's proud smile churned Juliet's stomach. "Not a thing like me."
All of a sudden, this entire conversation stung Juliet right in the heart. This was Eric's father. His father. And, yes, she was supposed to be busy hating Eric, but she didn't feel like she could. Not when someone who claimed to be family walked up to her and started saying hurtful things about him, things that she wasn't entirely certain were true. What was true was that she really didn't know all that much about Eric beyond Saturday night. She didn't know his work ethic or his daily routine or his relationship with his family. But what she did know was that what she saw of his heart was good. He was passionate and he was determined and he was intelligent beyond his years--and those were important qualities to have as a CEO. She hated the man, but she couldn't deny his qualities.
"Mr. Reynolds, why are you here? Unannounced, even?"
"I do apologize for the intrusion, Miss Carson, but I was hoping to have a couple of minutes to show you all the quality work that Reynolds Construction does, including a few prominent testimonials, without the necessity of an internet website. I'm afraid that maybe...that wasn't made quite clear in your earlier meeting."
Juliet blinked her eyes to take his words in for a moment. Without the necessity of a website? A website that wasn't made clear in their meeting?
"Eric said you turned down our company based on our lack of a website," Carl continued. "But let me assure you, our company operates quite successfully without--"
"Oh. The website." And then something in her clicked. Maybe it was the fact that it appeared that Eric had kept this morning to himself. Or maybe it was the fact that every word that came out of this man's mouth appalled her at his open bashing of his son, she didn't know. But she suddenly felt the urge to stick it to this man fifty ways to Sunday and she didn't hesitate, either. "Well, Mr. Reynolds, you can rest assured that Eric's presentation at our meeting this morning was absolutely flawless. He was confident, he was knowledgeable and, to be honest, he said a lot of really good things that I wanted to hear. In fact, I was sold on your company solely based on his presentation until he got to the part about the website. You see, Mr. Reynolds, my issue with a website isn't the fact that you simply don't have one. If you know anything about my company, you know that Carson Innovations prides ourselves in being at the very forefront of all the current and modern technology--and in a city such as the lovely one we stand in, you have to be. The fact that your company chooses not to be at the forefront of technology creates a creative conflict between our companies. Not only that, but it worries me because does that mean that you simply can't afford to keep one up or do you just not care? In this day and age, in the times that we live in, the fact that your company is technologically stunted pretty much tells me everything I need to know. I need to work with a company who can keep up with me. I don't have time for dinosaurs, Mr. Reynolds. And, since you're the owner of the company and you've been around much longer than Eric has, that more or less means that you are the one who screwed Eric out of this meeting this morning--not him. And based on the way you just stood here and spoke about him tells me that screwing him over is what you do best. It's none of my business what kind of relationship you have with your family or your staff, and it's really none of my business how you run your company. However, it is my business how I run mine. And ethics are a top priority of mine and even the worst of businessmen know that you don't go around bashing your own staff in front of prospective clients. It makes you and your company appear unstable and weak and that, Mr. Reynolds, is something that I am not. In closing, you can, once again, 'rest assured' that Eric did not mess up his meeting this morning. You did. And you just cemented my decision with your disgusting display here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some personal time that I'm supposed to be tending to. If you gentleman will see yourselves out, that would be most appreciated."
Carl blinked his eyes at her as his face turned several shades of red. Juliet didn't back down. She stared right back at him until he abruptly turned on his heel and headed back for the elevator. She wanted to feel victorious and cleansed like she normally did when she had to hand it to someone, but she didn't this time. Because now she was more mixed up than she thought she was. Eric was still wrong. He was wrong for leaving her. He just was, and that was the truth. But she still...felt. And now she was curious.
As soon as the elevator doors closed, she headed straight for Beth's empty office and snatched the Reynolds portfolio off of her desk. If she was going to spend the rest of the day at home, she might as well be productive.
__________________________________________________________________________________
At the end of the workday, Eric and Travis were sitting in Eric's office, wrapping things up. Kim had just left after spending the afternoon with Eric, going over plans for the website and Travis had come in to recount his horrors of finding workers for an upcoming project. What neither brother was expecting was to see Walt walk in and take his seat in his usual chair.
Well, so much for a peaceful afternoon.
"Gotta say, I wasn't sure we'd see you again today," Eric said, sitting back in his desk chair.
"I spent the afternoon consoling your father," Walt said, straightening his suit jacket. "Or cooling him off, whatever the appropriate term is."
Eric scoffed, in spite of himself. "Consoling him? What happened? He probably got to Carson Innovations and found that Juliet Carson wasn't there."
Walt narrowed his eyes at him in question and Eric swallowed, deciding to stop while he was ahead. "She was actually just leaving, but that isn't the point. The point is, your father is pissed and he has nobody to take it out on."
"That's a first," Travis snorted.
"So what the hell happened?" Eric asked.
"Now I see why she was so hard to close a deal with this morning, that's for sure," Walt said, shaking his head. Then he let out a light whistle. "That little woman tore your dad's balls off and handed them right to him in front of God and everybody. I've never in my days seen anybody not buckle under that old man--especially not a woman."
Eric fought the smile that was forming on his lips at the visual he was getting of Juliet letting his father have it. Then he remembered that he was a Reynolds and she probably let him have it by default and that wasn't really anything to be proud of.
"Well? What did she say?" Travis pressed.
Walt looked between the two brothers and sighed. "Well, apparently a website is more important to have than we thought it was. And she told your dad it was his fault that the meeting didn't turn out this morning because it's HIS fault that Reynolds doesn't have a website--and that you were practically Mary Poppins in your presentation. And she may have taken a shot or two at him in regard to business ethics, you know..."
Eric stared as his uncle as if he had three heads. "Mary Poppins?"
"Oh, yeah," Walt said, waving him off. "She sang your praises up one side and down the other. I believe the words she used were flawless, knowledgeable, and confident. Blew your dad right out of the water."
"Why?"
"Well, you know how your dad can be sometimes..."
"No, I mean why did she compliment me like that?"
Walt shrugged and shook his head. "All she did was recant your meeting. Why wouldn't she tell him how it went?"
Eric shot a knowing side glance at Travis, who matched it, and then they both turned to look at their uncle as he stood to leave. "Anyway, I just thought I'd stop in to let you know you can relax a little. What your dad got today was a little slice of humble pie which, I think we can all agree, is something he kind of needed. Expect him to be a bear these next few days, though. Just thought I'd warn you. Have a good night, boys, I'll see you two tomorrow."
Eric watched the empty doorway that Walt had just walked out of in thought, still trying to wrap his head around their conversation. He didn't get much of a chance, however, as Travis sat in his chair and murmured, "Holy shit..."
"What?" Eric asked, looking over at him.
Travis grinned. "Dad got his ass handed to him by a woman. With witnesses."
"Yeah," Eric replied warily. "I'm still trying to...understand it...I mean--"
"It's pretty simple," Travis cut him off. "Based on Walt's...cryptic speech, I guess, it basically means that Dad talked shit about you and Juliet stuck up for you. She lied for you, corroborated a bullshit story you made up. Pulled it out of her ass. She cares about you, man. She could have let you fry, but she didn't. She turned Dad into the buffoon and you into the hero."
"But she hates me...you should have been there--"
"Apparently, she doesn't. And, if I were you, I'd act on it before it's too late."
With that, Travis called it a day, himself, and left Eric's office. Exasperated, he let his head fall into his arms on his desk and he let out a breath. This was all just too much. The pressure, the stress...his career, his family, his romantic life--or lack thereof. All of it swam around in his head and he couldn't keep any of it straight. He didn't even know where to begin. Did he call his father? Did he show up on Juliet's doorstep? Did he pull an all-nighter with this website? He just didn't know. He just didn't know anything anymore.
What was today? Today was Tuesday. Nothing happened on Tuesdays. No ballgames, no dinner plans, nothing. He needed to do something, anything, that would put him out of his misery, just for the rest of the night.
With that thought in mind, he packed up his belongings and left the office, in immediate search of a wall to climb.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
The first bouquet came at promptly nine in the morning Wednesday morning--exactly twenty-four hours since Juliet last laid eyes on Eric Reynolds. They were purple and vibrant and beautiful--and a complete surprise. The note was simple. It merely read, "Thank You." No signature, no greeting, no anything. Just those two words. And she wanted to appreciate them, against her better judgment, but she couldn't. She simply couldn't. So she handed them back to the delivery guy and said, "Please send these back."
"But, ma'am, he didn't say where they came from--"
"Reynolds Construction," she spat, cutting him off. She couldn't think of anyone else who might send her flowers. It wasn't rocket science, after all.
She knew what Eric was thanking her for. Apparently word traveled fast within Reynolds Construction. But not that fast, seeing as their little secret--whatever that may be--was safe and he wasn't one of those disgruntled types who displayed his business for all the world to see. She had to respect that. She didn't want to, but she had to.
The second bouquet, also dyed purple, though bigger and more extravagant, came right before her lunch break. This time, the delivery guy, and the company they came from, were different and Juliet sighed out of frustration as they seemingly floated into her office. As they were sat on her desk in front of her, she curled up her nose and she plucked the card from the holder. "Forgive Me," it read. Only two words, just like the last one. No signature, no greeting, nothing. Once again, she instructed the delivery guy, "Please send them back. Reynolds Construction. Thank you."
He had to know she couldn't be bought. Actually, she couldn't be anything because she wanted nothing to do with him.
"Well. Remind me not to send you flowers," a deep voice said from the doorway, causing Juliet to look up from her work.
Terrell Littlejohn smiled and walked through the doorway into her office. She didn't recall inviting him into her office. Purposefully, she'd been avoiding Terrell these past few days. It was apparent that nobody in Eric Reynolds's circle of friends was to be trusted. Not a single one of them.
"Funny. I don't recall any lunch plans today," she greeted him curtly, barely looking up from her work.
"I tried calling...texting..."
"And you still couldn't take a hint."
"Hint? What hint? What the hell did I ever do to you?"
"You...gave Eric Reynolds my personal cell phone number," she accused as she leafed through her paperwork. "I didn't appreciate that."
At that, Terrell helped himself to a seat across her desk and rested his elbows on his knees. "Come on, Jules. He's harmless."
"He's exactly like all the rest of them. Worse, actually."
"I know for a fact that's not true. He's got it bad for you, Jules. He does. And I saw the way you looked at him at your party."
"You saw nothing. You violated my privacy--"
"Just give him a chance--"
Finally exasperated, she looked up and huffed out an annoyed breath. "Did he send you here? Is that what this is?"
Terrell looked at her, confused, and shook his head. "No. No, I--"
"He had his chance. And then he blew it. I don't give second chances, they aren't worth it."
"What do you mean, you have him a chance?"
"None of your business," she snapped.
"Did you...did you actually speak to him?"
"You could say that."
He sat back in his chair and studied her face. "Then you know I'm not full of shit."
"You are full of shit," she corrected him. "And I'm through with this conversation."
"Juliet, come on," his voice softened. "Listen to me. Just listen. Eric is my best friend. I know him. He is a good guy. Too good, if you ask me."
Juliet couldn't deny that Terrell's words piqued her curiosity--and her heart rate. The truth--a truth she didn't want to admit to herself, much less to anyone else--was that she wanted to know everything there was to know about Eric. She wanted to know him inside and out, from top to bottom, all the good and the bad and the dirty, hidden secrets and every last thing throughout the universe that could possibly make him smile. However, she just couldn't bring herself to give in. Giving in was no longer an option, not again. Because giving in meant leaving yourself wide open for disappointment and heartbreak. Giving in only led to trouble. Juliet didn't have time for trouble.
Unable to help herself, she asked him, anyway, her voice quiet and meek. "What does that mean? Too good?"
Terrell sighed and ran his hand over his bald head. "Eric is...not the most confident person in the world. He has a habit of letting people walk all over him, takes a lot of shit--mostly from his old man. But he's loyal. And he's a fighter and he'll give you the shirt right off his back if he even thinks you might need it. Eric is not like all the other guys, I can promise you that. And that's why I respect him as much as I do."
Juliet found herself taking Terrell's words to heart more than she wanted to. She let them seep into her mind and her eyes looked around her desk in thought. She was beginning to feel again. She felt...sorry for Eric. Pity, almost, the very thing she never wanted from anyone else. God, she was a hypocrite. But she wanted to hug him. She wanted to stroke his hair and remind him of what a good person she knew he was and to fuck what anyone else had to say about him.
She hated feeling. And with that, she remembered that she hated Eric for that very reason.
Lifting her chin high and swallowing her emotions, she stated, "He's a coward."
"I did not say he was a coward," Terrell argued.
"He is a coward."
"This is getting ridiculous--"
"Eric left me," she suddenly spat out forcefully. "I let him kiss me and I let him touch me and I told him secrets--deep, dark secrets that I've never told anyone--and then he was gone when I woke up. He. Left. Me."
"Shit," Terrell whispered under his breath.
"I found the spark, Terrell. The spark that you told me about. I found it with him and I let my guard down. Hell, I fucking tore my guard down, just for him. Because I felt spark. And I felt a whole lot of other bullshit I'd never felt before and I thought he was it. You know? I thought he might actually be the one that I might stop and slow down and say, 'You know? I like this one. I might keep this one around.' But he fucked up. He left me. He took everything I gave him and then he abandoned me. No kiss my ass, fuck you, have a nice life, nothing. No goodbye. He just...vanished. And that makes him a selfish coward and he can go fuck himself for all I care."
"Shit, Juliet," Terrell said with regret in his eyes. "I--I didn't know..."
"Well. Now you do. You understand my trust issues, then."
"I'm sorry. Baby, if I knew it was like that, I wouldn't have ever given him your number like that. You gotta believe me."
"I appreciate that. But it's done and it's over now. And--and I want to be your friend, but...but your friendship with Eric just hits too close to home for me--"
"Hey," he said firmly. "I'm my own man. Okay? Eric's my boy, but it's not like I don't have my own life. I'm allowed to have other friends. So it didn't work out with you guys. I get it. But don't persecute me based on association alone. Even you know that's unfair."
Juliet's face fell. He was right, that was unfair. She had no right to cast Terrell off that way, he'd been nothing but nice to her. And honest. And she respected the hell out of that.
"Look," he finished, his voice calmer now. "Let me take you to lunch. It's about that time. I mean, when I leave here, we're both gonna head to lunch, anyway, right? Might as well go together."
She was starving, she had to admit it. And, thankfully, she enjoyed Terrell's company, despite his association with the enemy. Speaking of the enemy..."Do you promise not to bring up Eric? I don't want to talk about him anymore."
"Deal," he smiled. Then he nodded toward her. "Grab your purse, you're buying."
Finally, a smile crept across her face. It felt good to smile, it was something she hadn't done since...well, since Saturday night. "Is it my turn?"
"Like I'd let you forget it," he teased her.
Thankful for the distraction, Juliet gathered her coat and her purse and she headed out of her office with Terrell.
**************
Terrell Littlejohn was born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina. He went to college on a football scholarship, majoring in sports management with a minor in business. He became somewhat of a college sports star and went on to have some success in the minors until an injury ended his budding career. By that time, he was already in New York and he ended up being offered a job with the stadium.
And now here they were.
Juliet learned all this in her desperate attempt to keep things light and her mind off of Eric as she and Terrell drove to lunch together.
"So, tell me what makes Juliet Carson tick," Terrell said once inside the restaurant and after they'd placed their orders.
"Well," she replied, choosing her words carefully. "Animals and children never lie. So that's what I focus my energy on. I have a couple of specific charities that I'm involved with and that keeps me busy sometimes."
"Animals and children, huh?" He smiled. "Why those specifically?"
And then her throat closed up. And, suddenly, she wished he was Eric. Eric would have understood her instantly, she wouldn't have even had to explain herself. Why did she miss a person she hated? Why did she feel like she'd already known him for years? Why did Saturday night even have to end?
Finding herself abruptly changing the subject, she looked Terrell square in the eye. "When you said he takes a lot of shit, what exactly did that mean?"
Terrell raised his eyebrow at her across the table. "I thought we weren't talking about Eric?"
"Just answer the question."
"From what I understand, he lets his old man ride all over him at work. If mine was breathing down my neck like that all the time, not trusting a thing I did, I'd tell him where to shove it. But not Eric. He has a hard time seeing the line between respect and taking shit."
"Does he not have a good relationship with his father?"
"I've spent a little time with his family, not much. They seem to be your garden variety family. Eric really only complains about him when it's work-related."
"I met his father when he came to the office the other day," she said. "He's a prick. I could see him being an asshole to work for."
"That's really all I know, though. And then there was--you know what, that's none of my business. He should be telling you these things, not me."
Terrell was right. Of course he was right. Juliet's mind and her emotions were all over the place right now. Her disdain for Eric seemed to be dwindling more and more, beyond her control of it. 'He left you!' She kept telling herself. 'He learned your innermost secrets and he left you. He used your body and he left you. He didn't even care enough to say goodbye.'
But then there was his face yesterday morning. So full of sorrow and regret and her anger took her over and destroyed everything in its path. And the gorgeous purple flowers he'd sent her today. So thoughtful, remembering how purple was her favorite color. Deep down, she secretly wanted to keep them. But she knew she couldn't. She just couldn't. And the quicker she forgot about him, the better.
But she feared that she couldn't do that, either.
Beth had insisted that Juliet take the rest of the day off, much to her objection. She was convinced that work was exactly what she needed, while Beth insisted that Juliet needed the day to regroup. Finally, after Beth's incessant urging, Juliet gave in and gathered some materials she would need in order to work from home.
She didn't have to tell Sheena to take her messages or reschedule her appointments because Beth had already handled it, so she walked through the office, quietly saying her daily goodbyes. It was awkward and she knew everyone was looking at her. She knew everyone had to have heard everything that had happened in her office with Eric--after all, nobody had bothered to close the door.
As she approached the elevator, the bell rang and two men--two very tall men--stepped off and came straight toward her. The tall one boasted gray hair and a smile and the larger one seemed to hang back a little. Well, so much for going home.
"Juliet Carson, I presume?" The gray-haired one asked.
"Yes," she answered warily. "And you are...?"
"Oh. Pardon my manners," he said, extending his arm. "Carl Reynolds. This, here, is my brother and business associate, Walt."
"Mr. Reynolds," she replied, shaking is hand. "With all due respect, I've had my fill of the name Reynolds today. I was just on my way out..."
"Well, rest assured, Miss Carson, not all of us Reynoldses are so, um, easily pushed over."
This statement struck an unpleasant chord with her in more ways than one. "Excuse me? I'm afraid I don't follow..."
"Allow me to rephrase myself. I understand there was a meeting this morning with the, um, CEO of my company and it apparently wasn't...ah, executed to Reynolds Construction's professional standards."
Juliet was floored. Had Eric actually gone back and told everyone what had happened? Had he told them...? She felt like she was going to be sick. "Um, professional standards?" She choked out.
"Reynolds Construction is a family-owned, successful business, building dreams for twenty years now. You see, I own Reynolds and Walt, here, is the Vice President of operations. Eric is my son. I appointed him CEO because...well, let's not get into that, but sometimes the person you think is right for the job just...isn't. No matter their job title."
"So...you're saying that because this morning's meeting didn't...pan out, that you thought you were going to come here and fix it?"
"Well, from one business owner to another, Miss Carson, wouldn't you do the same thing if you were in my position?"
She studied him for a moment and nodded her head. "Yes, I suppose I would."
"Look, Eric is a...bit of a dreamer. A little wishy washy at times. Not too, uh, assertive or confident, he's--"
"Your son," Juliet snapped.
"Yes."
"Yet, nothing like you."
Carl's proud smile churned Juliet's stomach. "Not a thing like me."
All of a sudden, this entire conversation stung Juliet right in the heart. This was Eric's father. His father. And, yes, she was supposed to be busy hating Eric, but she didn't feel like she could. Not when someone who claimed to be family walked up to her and started saying hurtful things about him, things that she wasn't entirely certain were true. What was true was that she really didn't know all that much about Eric beyond Saturday night. She didn't know his work ethic or his daily routine or his relationship with his family. But what she did know was that what she saw of his heart was good. He was passionate and he was determined and he was intelligent beyond his years--and those were important qualities to have as a CEO. She hated the man, but she couldn't deny his qualities.
"Mr. Reynolds, why are you here? Unannounced, even?"
"I do apologize for the intrusion, Miss Carson, but I was hoping to have a couple of minutes to show you all the quality work that Reynolds Construction does, including a few prominent testimonials, without the necessity of an internet website. I'm afraid that maybe...that wasn't made quite clear in your earlier meeting."
Juliet blinked her eyes to take his words in for a moment. Without the necessity of a website? A website that wasn't made clear in their meeting?
"Eric said you turned down our company based on our lack of a website," Carl continued. "But let me assure you, our company operates quite successfully without--"
"Oh. The website." And then something in her clicked. Maybe it was the fact that it appeared that Eric had kept this morning to himself. Or maybe it was the fact that every word that came out of this man's mouth appalled her at his open bashing of his son, she didn't know. But she suddenly felt the urge to stick it to this man fifty ways to Sunday and she didn't hesitate, either. "Well, Mr. Reynolds, you can rest assured that Eric's presentation at our meeting this morning was absolutely flawless. He was confident, he was knowledgeable and, to be honest, he said a lot of really good things that I wanted to hear. In fact, I was sold on your company solely based on his presentation until he got to the part about the website. You see, Mr. Reynolds, my issue with a website isn't the fact that you simply don't have one. If you know anything about my company, you know that Carson Innovations prides ourselves in being at the very forefront of all the current and modern technology--and in a city such as the lovely one we stand in, you have to be. The fact that your company chooses not to be at the forefront of technology creates a creative conflict between our companies. Not only that, but it worries me because does that mean that you simply can't afford to keep one up or do you just not care? In this day and age, in the times that we live in, the fact that your company is technologically stunted pretty much tells me everything I need to know. I need to work with a company who can keep up with me. I don't have time for dinosaurs, Mr. Reynolds. And, since you're the owner of the company and you've been around much longer than Eric has, that more or less means that you are the one who screwed Eric out of this meeting this morning--not him. And based on the way you just stood here and spoke about him tells me that screwing him over is what you do best. It's none of my business what kind of relationship you have with your family or your staff, and it's really none of my business how you run your company. However, it is my business how I run mine. And ethics are a top priority of mine and even the worst of businessmen know that you don't go around bashing your own staff in front of prospective clients. It makes you and your company appear unstable and weak and that, Mr. Reynolds, is something that I am not. In closing, you can, once again, 'rest assured' that Eric did not mess up his meeting this morning. You did. And you just cemented my decision with your disgusting display here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some personal time that I'm supposed to be tending to. If you gentleman will see yourselves out, that would be most appreciated."
Carl blinked his eyes at her as his face turned several shades of red. Juliet didn't back down. She stared right back at him until he abruptly turned on his heel and headed back for the elevator. She wanted to feel victorious and cleansed like she normally did when she had to hand it to someone, but she didn't this time. Because now she was more mixed up than she thought she was. Eric was still wrong. He was wrong for leaving her. He just was, and that was the truth. But she still...felt. And now she was curious.
As soon as the elevator doors closed, she headed straight for Beth's empty office and snatched the Reynolds portfolio off of her desk. If she was going to spend the rest of the day at home, she might as well be productive.
__________________________________________________________________________________
At the end of the workday, Eric and Travis were sitting in Eric's office, wrapping things up. Kim had just left after spending the afternoon with Eric, going over plans for the website and Travis had come in to recount his horrors of finding workers for an upcoming project. What neither brother was expecting was to see Walt walk in and take his seat in his usual chair.
Well, so much for a peaceful afternoon.
"Gotta say, I wasn't sure we'd see you again today," Eric said, sitting back in his desk chair.
"I spent the afternoon consoling your father," Walt said, straightening his suit jacket. "Or cooling him off, whatever the appropriate term is."
Eric scoffed, in spite of himself. "Consoling him? What happened? He probably got to Carson Innovations and found that Juliet Carson wasn't there."
Walt narrowed his eyes at him in question and Eric swallowed, deciding to stop while he was ahead. "She was actually just leaving, but that isn't the point. The point is, your father is pissed and he has nobody to take it out on."
"That's a first," Travis snorted.
"So what the hell happened?" Eric asked.
"Now I see why she was so hard to close a deal with this morning, that's for sure," Walt said, shaking his head. Then he let out a light whistle. "That little woman tore your dad's balls off and handed them right to him in front of God and everybody. I've never in my days seen anybody not buckle under that old man--especially not a woman."
Eric fought the smile that was forming on his lips at the visual he was getting of Juliet letting his father have it. Then he remembered that he was a Reynolds and she probably let him have it by default and that wasn't really anything to be proud of.
"Well? What did she say?" Travis pressed.
Walt looked between the two brothers and sighed. "Well, apparently a website is more important to have than we thought it was. And she told your dad it was his fault that the meeting didn't turn out this morning because it's HIS fault that Reynolds doesn't have a website--and that you were practically Mary Poppins in your presentation. And she may have taken a shot or two at him in regard to business ethics, you know..."
Eric stared as his uncle as if he had three heads. "Mary Poppins?"
"Oh, yeah," Walt said, waving him off. "She sang your praises up one side and down the other. I believe the words she used were flawless, knowledgeable, and confident. Blew your dad right out of the water."
"Why?"
"Well, you know how your dad can be sometimes..."
"No, I mean why did she compliment me like that?"
Walt shrugged and shook his head. "All she did was recant your meeting. Why wouldn't she tell him how it went?"
Eric shot a knowing side glance at Travis, who matched it, and then they both turned to look at their uncle as he stood to leave. "Anyway, I just thought I'd stop in to let you know you can relax a little. What your dad got today was a little slice of humble pie which, I think we can all agree, is something he kind of needed. Expect him to be a bear these next few days, though. Just thought I'd warn you. Have a good night, boys, I'll see you two tomorrow."
Eric watched the empty doorway that Walt had just walked out of in thought, still trying to wrap his head around their conversation. He didn't get much of a chance, however, as Travis sat in his chair and murmured, "Holy shit..."
"What?" Eric asked, looking over at him.
Travis grinned. "Dad got his ass handed to him by a woman. With witnesses."
"Yeah," Eric replied warily. "I'm still trying to...understand it...I mean--"
"It's pretty simple," Travis cut him off. "Based on Walt's...cryptic speech, I guess, it basically means that Dad talked shit about you and Juliet stuck up for you. She lied for you, corroborated a bullshit story you made up. Pulled it out of her ass. She cares about you, man. She could have let you fry, but she didn't. She turned Dad into the buffoon and you into the hero."
"But she hates me...you should have been there--"
"Apparently, she doesn't. And, if I were you, I'd act on it before it's too late."
With that, Travis called it a day, himself, and left Eric's office. Exasperated, he let his head fall into his arms on his desk and he let out a breath. This was all just too much. The pressure, the stress...his career, his family, his romantic life--or lack thereof. All of it swam around in his head and he couldn't keep any of it straight. He didn't even know where to begin. Did he call his father? Did he show up on Juliet's doorstep? Did he pull an all-nighter with this website? He just didn't know. He just didn't know anything anymore.
What was today? Today was Tuesday. Nothing happened on Tuesdays. No ballgames, no dinner plans, nothing. He needed to do something, anything, that would put him out of his misery, just for the rest of the night.
With that thought in mind, he packed up his belongings and left the office, in immediate search of a wall to climb.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
The first bouquet came at promptly nine in the morning Wednesday morning--exactly twenty-four hours since Juliet last laid eyes on Eric Reynolds. They were purple and vibrant and beautiful--and a complete surprise. The note was simple. It merely read, "Thank You." No signature, no greeting, no anything. Just those two words. And she wanted to appreciate them, against her better judgment, but she couldn't. She simply couldn't. So she handed them back to the delivery guy and said, "Please send these back."
"But, ma'am, he didn't say where they came from--"
"Reynolds Construction," she spat, cutting him off. She couldn't think of anyone else who might send her flowers. It wasn't rocket science, after all.
She knew what Eric was thanking her for. Apparently word traveled fast within Reynolds Construction. But not that fast, seeing as their little secret--whatever that may be--was safe and he wasn't one of those disgruntled types who displayed his business for all the world to see. She had to respect that. She didn't want to, but she had to.
The second bouquet, also dyed purple, though bigger and more extravagant, came right before her lunch break. This time, the delivery guy, and the company they came from, were different and Juliet sighed out of frustration as they seemingly floated into her office. As they were sat on her desk in front of her, she curled up her nose and she plucked the card from the holder. "Forgive Me," it read. Only two words, just like the last one. No signature, no greeting, nothing. Once again, she instructed the delivery guy, "Please send them back. Reynolds Construction. Thank you."
He had to know she couldn't be bought. Actually, she couldn't be anything because she wanted nothing to do with him.
"Well. Remind me not to send you flowers," a deep voice said from the doorway, causing Juliet to look up from her work.
Terrell Littlejohn smiled and walked through the doorway into her office. She didn't recall inviting him into her office. Purposefully, she'd been avoiding Terrell these past few days. It was apparent that nobody in Eric Reynolds's circle of friends was to be trusted. Not a single one of them.
"Funny. I don't recall any lunch plans today," she greeted him curtly, barely looking up from her work.
"I tried calling...texting..."
"And you still couldn't take a hint."
"Hint? What hint? What the hell did I ever do to you?"
"You...gave Eric Reynolds my personal cell phone number," she accused as she leafed through her paperwork. "I didn't appreciate that."
At that, Terrell helped himself to a seat across her desk and rested his elbows on his knees. "Come on, Jules. He's harmless."
"He's exactly like all the rest of them. Worse, actually."
"I know for a fact that's not true. He's got it bad for you, Jules. He does. And I saw the way you looked at him at your party."
"You saw nothing. You violated my privacy--"
"Just give him a chance--"
Finally exasperated, she looked up and huffed out an annoyed breath. "Did he send you here? Is that what this is?"
Terrell looked at her, confused, and shook his head. "No. No, I--"
"He had his chance. And then he blew it. I don't give second chances, they aren't worth it."
"What do you mean, you have him a chance?"
"None of your business," she snapped.
"Did you...did you actually speak to him?"
"You could say that."
He sat back in his chair and studied her face. "Then you know I'm not full of shit."
"You are full of shit," she corrected him. "And I'm through with this conversation."
"Juliet, come on," his voice softened. "Listen to me. Just listen. Eric is my best friend. I know him. He is a good guy. Too good, if you ask me."
Juliet couldn't deny that Terrell's words piqued her curiosity--and her heart rate. The truth--a truth she didn't want to admit to herself, much less to anyone else--was that she wanted to know everything there was to know about Eric. She wanted to know him inside and out, from top to bottom, all the good and the bad and the dirty, hidden secrets and every last thing throughout the universe that could possibly make him smile. However, she just couldn't bring herself to give in. Giving in was no longer an option, not again. Because giving in meant leaving yourself wide open for disappointment and heartbreak. Giving in only led to trouble. Juliet didn't have time for trouble.
Unable to help herself, she asked him, anyway, her voice quiet and meek. "What does that mean? Too good?"
Terrell sighed and ran his hand over his bald head. "Eric is...not the most confident person in the world. He has a habit of letting people walk all over him, takes a lot of shit--mostly from his old man. But he's loyal. And he's a fighter and he'll give you the shirt right off his back if he even thinks you might need it. Eric is not like all the other guys, I can promise you that. And that's why I respect him as much as I do."
Juliet found herself taking Terrell's words to heart more than she wanted to. She let them seep into her mind and her eyes looked around her desk in thought. She was beginning to feel again. She felt...sorry for Eric. Pity, almost, the very thing she never wanted from anyone else. God, she was a hypocrite. But she wanted to hug him. She wanted to stroke his hair and remind him of what a good person she knew he was and to fuck what anyone else had to say about him.
She hated feeling. And with that, she remembered that she hated Eric for that very reason.
Lifting her chin high and swallowing her emotions, she stated, "He's a coward."
"I did not say he was a coward," Terrell argued.
"He is a coward."
"This is getting ridiculous--"
"Eric left me," she suddenly spat out forcefully. "I let him kiss me and I let him touch me and I told him secrets--deep, dark secrets that I've never told anyone--and then he was gone when I woke up. He. Left. Me."
"Shit," Terrell whispered under his breath.
"I found the spark, Terrell. The spark that you told me about. I found it with him and I let my guard down. Hell, I fucking tore my guard down, just for him. Because I felt spark. And I felt a whole lot of other bullshit I'd never felt before and I thought he was it. You know? I thought he might actually be the one that I might stop and slow down and say, 'You know? I like this one. I might keep this one around.' But he fucked up. He left me. He took everything I gave him and then he abandoned me. No kiss my ass, fuck you, have a nice life, nothing. No goodbye. He just...vanished. And that makes him a selfish coward and he can go fuck himself for all I care."
"Shit, Juliet," Terrell said with regret in his eyes. "I--I didn't know..."
"Well. Now you do. You understand my trust issues, then."
"I'm sorry. Baby, if I knew it was like that, I wouldn't have ever given him your number like that. You gotta believe me."
"I appreciate that. But it's done and it's over now. And--and I want to be your friend, but...but your friendship with Eric just hits too close to home for me--"
"Hey," he said firmly. "I'm my own man. Okay? Eric's my boy, but it's not like I don't have my own life. I'm allowed to have other friends. So it didn't work out with you guys. I get it. But don't persecute me based on association alone. Even you know that's unfair."
Juliet's face fell. He was right, that was unfair. She had no right to cast Terrell off that way, he'd been nothing but nice to her. And honest. And she respected the hell out of that.
"Look," he finished, his voice calmer now. "Let me take you to lunch. It's about that time. I mean, when I leave here, we're both gonna head to lunch, anyway, right? Might as well go together."
She was starving, she had to admit it. And, thankfully, she enjoyed Terrell's company, despite his association with the enemy. Speaking of the enemy..."Do you promise not to bring up Eric? I don't want to talk about him anymore."
"Deal," he smiled. Then he nodded toward her. "Grab your purse, you're buying."
Finally, a smile crept across her face. It felt good to smile, it was something she hadn't done since...well, since Saturday night. "Is it my turn?"
"Like I'd let you forget it," he teased her.
Thankful for the distraction, Juliet gathered her coat and her purse and she headed out of her office with Terrell.
**************
Terrell Littlejohn was born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina. He went to college on a football scholarship, majoring in sports management with a minor in business. He became somewhat of a college sports star and went on to have some success in the minors until an injury ended his budding career. By that time, he was already in New York and he ended up being offered a job with the stadium.
And now here they were.
Juliet learned all this in her desperate attempt to keep things light and her mind off of Eric as she and Terrell drove to lunch together.
"So, tell me what makes Juliet Carson tick," Terrell said once inside the restaurant and after they'd placed their orders.
"Well," she replied, choosing her words carefully. "Animals and children never lie. So that's what I focus my energy on. I have a couple of specific charities that I'm involved with and that keeps me busy sometimes."
"Animals and children, huh?" He smiled. "Why those specifically?"
And then her throat closed up. And, suddenly, she wished he was Eric. Eric would have understood her instantly, she wouldn't have even had to explain herself. Why did she miss a person she hated? Why did she feel like she'd already known him for years? Why did Saturday night even have to end?
Finding herself abruptly changing the subject, she looked Terrell square in the eye. "When you said he takes a lot of shit, what exactly did that mean?"
Terrell raised his eyebrow at her across the table. "I thought we weren't talking about Eric?"
"Just answer the question."
"From what I understand, he lets his old man ride all over him at work. If mine was breathing down my neck like that all the time, not trusting a thing I did, I'd tell him where to shove it. But not Eric. He has a hard time seeing the line between respect and taking shit."
"Does he not have a good relationship with his father?"
"I've spent a little time with his family, not much. They seem to be your garden variety family. Eric really only complains about him when it's work-related."
"I met his father when he came to the office the other day," she said. "He's a prick. I could see him being an asshole to work for."
"That's really all I know, though. And then there was--you know what, that's none of my business. He should be telling you these things, not me."
Terrell was right. Of course he was right. Juliet's mind and her emotions were all over the place right now. Her disdain for Eric seemed to be dwindling more and more, beyond her control of it. 'He left you!' She kept telling herself. 'He learned your innermost secrets and he left you. He used your body and he left you. He didn't even care enough to say goodbye.'
But then there was his face yesterday morning. So full of sorrow and regret and her anger took her over and destroyed everything in its path. And the gorgeous purple flowers he'd sent her today. So thoughtful, remembering how purple was her favorite color. Deep down, she secretly wanted to keep them. But she knew she couldn't. She just couldn't. And the quicker she forgot about him, the better.
But she feared that she couldn't do that, either.