Page 14 of Return on Love

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. What I said about the game. I didn’t mean to be rude. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” he says without looking up.

“I hope you’re not mad.” I don’t want him to not meet me because of what I said.

“I’m not mad,” he says, fiercely typing on his phone. He doesn’t look mad. He just looks like someone who wants to leave and is as close to ignoring me as the space between us would permit. Like a parent answering their child’s questions with some generic statements. I don’t like it. My career could be on the line here. His company will find another investor if the deal falls through, but I'll likely be out of the VP race and possibly out of the firm. What of Bernard? This was important for him, too. And then Dad’s disappointed face creeps up in front of my eyes.

I take a step closer to him, and I can almost smell his musky perfume. I barely reach up to his shoulder. His wide muscular shoulder and his large biceps. I turn my head a little and speak up. “Is there a problem, Ryan? We need to work together if you want the funding for your company. If you don’t want it, you can as well tell me now, so I don’t waste my time here.” My face is all flushed, and I can feel my cheeks heating in anger.

I notice his fingers clench the phone tighter. He looks up and tilts his head, a questioning look on his face. Yeah right. As if it’s my imagination that he’s trying to avoid me.

His lips press together. “Of course, we want the funding. But right now, I have to leave. I’ll reschedule our meeting.”

His tone is patient and firm, his expressions—well, they’re expressionless. His face is like a sculpture of a Greek God, beautiful but made of stone. Does this man have any emotions? The elevator door opens, and he enters. Before the doors close, he glances at me again.

“By the way, you should probably wear something more appropriate from tomorrow.” The doors close, and he’s gone before my brain can parse through the words he uttered.

Wear something more appropriate?. His business is doing shit. He can’t meet the consultant that can help fund his company, and all he can comment about is my dress? Ridiculous!

I look at myself. It’s a perfect business attire, for God’s sake. Black skirt, blazer, beige top, perfect sandals and minimal but elegant jewelry. It’s the epitome of power dressing. The self-image consultant the firm had hired to help the employees with their dressing woes would be proud of me. Just because he cannot stand my face doesn’t mean he can say anything he wants. I feel like kicking him in the shins. I’m an expert in my field, and I know gaming, even if no one else knows that I know. How dare he patronize me like this?

I stomp back to my office. God! How am I going to get through three months of this? Gabriel, who was probably waiting for me to return, entered right behind me.

“Hey, I’m sorry, Eva. It was an emergency. Otherwise he never does that.”

Yeah, right! He doesn’t. For other people. But for me, he takes out the most vicious behavior he can. That kind of impudence, crassness, and sass is reserved especially for me. Had always been back in grad school, too. Nice to everyone, but icy stares for me.

“Why’re you apologizing for his behavior?” I ask Gabriel, still hurting from being ignored. “Any idea when he’ll be back?”

“Maybe in an hour. I’m not sure.”

I let out an angry growl. “What was so urgent, in any case?”

A smile lights up Gabriel’s face. “It’s Jen. He has to pick her up from her friend’s place.”

“Jen?”

Gabriel pulls out his phone and shows me a photo of a girl—five, maybe six years old. She has her hair tied in pigtails and is riding on Ryan’s back. The man actually looks happy, a soft expression on his face that I’ve never seen. Of course, he reserves his special expressions for me, but still. So Ryan has a daughter! Wow! I don’t even have a boyfriend, and he has a family already? Somehow, it stings more than I want it to.

“That’s Jen,” Gabriel says. “She’s gone to play with her friend, and her mother couldn’t pick her up. So Ryan has to go.”

“She’s cute,” I say, smiling despite my anger.

“Yeah. She thinks the world of Ryan. And Ryan? He’ll do anything for her.” Gabriel pockets his phone again. “She’s pretty smart, too. Has developed some games on Scratch that have quite a few likes.”

“You meet her often?”

“Sometimes. She came to the office with Ryan once. Gave him hell for one game at the blueprint stage. He hasn’t brought her here since.” He laughs. “They’re one weird pair, I tell you.”

“I’ll wait for some time and see if I can catch Ryan after he returns,” I say, sitting at my desk. I don’t want to hear more about what a pair he and Jen are. It’s somehow humanizing the man who hates me and made me a laughingstock in grad school. And I don’t like it. I prefer to think of him as the stone hearted man, not someone who gives piggy rides to his cute little daughter.

I reply to my emails, which have piled up throughout the day and over the weekend. It was one of the rare weekends when I didn’t work, like at all.

I was hoping Weber would update me about his call with Ryan last Friday. But it’s evening now, and there’s nothing from him. So, I call him up. I don’t like him going behind my back to my client.

“Hey Eva,” comes Weber’s booming voice. “How’s it going in Boston? Enjoyed the party?”

“Boston’s okay,” I say and pause a little, wondering how I should broach the topic. Then I just decide to say it. It’s easier to speak your mind if you’re not facing the person. “Hey, so did you have a call with the MooreGames team on Friday?”

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