Page 49 of Once Upon a Beast

“Yes, yes sir,” Steve put his laptop in his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He looked at me with a hint of sadness before adding, “I would say if you need me, you know how to reach me, but considering how much fun you’ve been to work with today, I won’t.”

“See you on Monday,” I said.

“Very good, sir. Enjoy your weekend,” Steve said as he walked towards the door, “If you can,” he added as he walked out of it.

The door closing held a finality and I dropped my head down. I knew I was being a jerk but I didn’t care. Steve was right to leave. I had been rude to him all day. I had been annoyed, short, and pissed off at the world and myself and I had taken it out on him. I didn’t blame him for finding the first excuse to leave. It didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like we had been productive. I wouldn’t want to be in my company either if I could help it.

Dejected, I walked out to my balcony. It was a gorgeous day in New York City. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the sun was high making the day seem warmer than it was. I tilted my head and let the sun’s warmth hit my face.

Part of me felt horrible for being so mean to Steve, but he had been pushing my buttons all day. It was as if he knew I was in a bad mood and wanted to see how much he could rile me up. I had been short and temperamental in response. I shouldn’t have taken it out on him but he made it so easy to do. I wondered if that was the point. If he was trying to annoy me so he would leave, or that I would tell him what was wrong. He got one out of the two and he probably was happier having the afternoon off than listening to me talk about my love life or lack thereof.

I hadn’t been able to concentrate on work. The two meetings I had were short and unproductive. My mind and heart weren’t in it. The only thing that I could think about was Layla and hearing the shock sound in her voice when we talked the night before.

There were a thousand different moments I thought about calling her. I needed to explain things to her, I needed to make it up to her, but I had no idea how to do that. I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t mean any of the things I said, because I meant every word. I could say that I regretted that she heard them only because she hadn’t liked what I said.

I wanted to be honest with her, we had been saying that very thing right before I spoke. I should have known it was too much too soon and it would scare Layla away. I might have been imagining and wanting to be with her for years but she hadn’t. I was farther along in my wants and needs in the relationship than she was and I should have realized that. Instead, I had pushed her away, possibly for good.

As much as I wanted to talk to her, I didn’t want to scare her any more than I already had. I knew I needed to give her time, to let her process what I said, and decide what she wanted to do. Yet, every part of me wanted to go, to see what she was thinking, to clear the air, and hopefully allow us to move forward.

I wanted to apologize to her and hopefully get her to forgive me. I wanted to tell her I would back off. We could take things slow, as slow as she wanted. I would do whatever I had to do to make sure that we were together. But I couldn’t do that if I didn’t clear the air between us. Until I did, I wouldn’t be able to work and I couldn’t have that. The best thing I could do was go and talk to her.

I knew I was just looking for an excuse to talk to her. If I needed to make up a reason in my mind, I would do it. I didn’t care. With a plan and determination, I walked back into the penthouse and opened the door. I stepped back as I saw Layla standing in the doorway. Her hand was up as if she was about to knock on the door.

“Lay?” I asked as if I wasn’t truly sure I was seeing her.

“Nic,” she said sheepishly as she put her hand down. “Are you leaving? I can come back.” She motioned behind her with her thumb.

“I was actually leaving to go and find you so we could talk,” I admitted.

She smiled shyly and said, “You were?”

“Yes. I didn’t like how we ended things last night.”

“You mean you didn’t like how I ended things,” she stated.

Her comment wasn’t what I thought she was going to say and it left me confused. She had nothing to apologize for. I took it as a win that she had come to me, that she wanted to talk. I only hoped it was to clear the air, not tell me she no longer wanted me in her life.

“Why don’t you come inside,” I stepped aside so she could.

She walked in and put her purse down on the kitchen counter. She looked around the room as if she was seeing it for the first time. She had been there before and I knew it was a nervous gesture.

“Can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry?” I asked, realizing I was nervous too.

“No. I’m good.” She ran her hands along her arms as if to warm herself.

“Are you cold?”

“No. Are you?”

“Not in the least. Why don’t we sit down.” I gestured to the couch in the living room.

Layla walked by me and sat on one couch. I followed her and moved to sit next to her. I could have sat on the couch on the other side, but I wanted to be close to her. This wasn’t a conversation between two acquaintances or friends, even if we were. This was going to be a conversation between two people who would hopefully be lovers and I wanted her to know it.

I turned and faced Layla on the couch. She didn’t do the same but looked forward. I put my arm out so that it was resting along the back of the couch near her. She sat up a little bit taller as if she was afraid to touch me. I wasn’t going to allow myself to be discouraged by her movement. I took it to mean that she was nervous.

We sat in silence for a few minutes and when she didn't say anything, I said, “Last night, I might have jumped the gun a little. I was being honest with you, which I want to be, but I might have been a little too honest. I want to say I’m sorry, and on some levels I am. I’m sorry that I moved too fast with you, but I’m not sorry about what I said, because I meant every word.”

“You did?” Layla turned to look at me with an expectant look on her face.

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