Page 41 of At First Smile
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Just Nice?
Pen
“ I brought you this.” JoJo appears at my office door, a piece of cake in her hand. “It’s Meeka’s birthday, so I snagged a corner piece.” Meeka is our colleague from PT, and JoJo knows I prefer the corners because there is more icing on them.
With a tentative smile, I nod. “Thanks.”
Placing the cake in front of me, she plops onto one of the Windsor-style chairs opposite my desk. “Not to be all social work colleague on you, but how are you doing?”
A hard breath rushes out of me. The emotional popcorn popper of the last two weeks is dizzying.
HR’s harassment investigation of Alex ended before it truly started.
Five days into the investigation, he resigned from the hospital.
The cover story is that he accepted a position at a facility in Texas and would be doing some traveling before starting there in the fall.
Despite the spin on Alex’s story about his broken heart after I dumped him for a famous hockey player who assaulted him during the MVP event, several staff went to HR with reports about his stalkerish behavior over the last year.
Things he’d done while we were in a relationship and after.
Many of which I had no idea about and those still cause a shiver down my spine, including his trying to convince maintenance to let him into my office on three separate occasions.
“Well, at least today’s his last day at the hospital,” JoJo states, forking a bite of cake.
“Is that why you’re here?” My eyebrow ticks up. “Playing guard dog?”
Despite security being made aware of the situation, and HR telling Alex that under no circumstances should he approach me at the hospital, I’ve been on constant guard.
My muscles tighten with each click of dress shoes along the hospital’s terrazzo floor, or the scent of that expensive spiced cologne Alex always wears. He’s kept his distance, though.
Still, I remain hypervigilant, letting people know where I am, providing regular check-ins via the group thread with the girls or messages with Rowan, and avoiding being alone.
After the MVP event, I even contacted the police about a stay-away order.
Until he’s gone, Rowan or JoJo takes me to and from work most days.
It’s all for my safety, but this entire situation strips away my long-cherished independence. I broke up with Alex because he wanted to control me, to keep me in a cage. Right now, it seems as if he’s succeeded.
“Is Rowan picking you up today?” JoJo licks frosting off her fingers.
“Yeah.” A small, grateful smile remains on my face, despite the sigh.
“Babes…” JoJo reaches across the desk and squeezes my wrist. “I know this is hard for you, but it’s only temporary.”
Eyes closed, I lean back in my chair. “I know and I’m so appreciative of everyone’s support. You’ve all been amazing.” My eyes open. “I’m not trying to be ungrateful, I just…”
She jumps in when I don’t continue my wish. “Want your freedom back, and you will get it. You’ve taken the first steps. You reported him. You’re going to therapy.”
“I have my first appointment with Dr. Bath this afternoon, before Rowan and I head to the airport.”
In the last few weeks, Rowan has been my North Star.
He may say he’s no white knight, but his actions prove otherwise.
Somehow, he navigates the tightrope of being there for me, while letting me do things on my own.
As much as this situation with Alex makes me feel powerless at times, Rowan continually offers support without diminishing the control I’m trying to regain.
“I’m so glad you’re popping your therapy cherry!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “I can’t wait to process your first session.”
“Do social workers just sit around watching therapy scenes from movies on YouTube?”
“It’s our porn.” Her husky voice drips with sassiness.
“Seriously, though. I’m so proud of you.
I think talking about everything that happened with Alex will be cathartic for you.
Not to mention just having a regular therapist to check in with for a mental tune-up is just smart. You know how much I adore Dr. Senesac.”
Brushing my hair behind my ears, I nod. I hadn’t been to a therapist since I was a kid.
With my RP diagnosis, my mom had me meet with the school psychologist weekly with a focus on vision-loss adjustment. Although, the school’s psychologist had little experience with disability, so they had me go through the five stages of grief and talk about my dead dad.
“Moving on… Have you decided how you’ll wear your hair for the fundraiser?” JoJo almost vibrates with excitement.
“I’m thinking up, but I’ll decide that day. Trina has scheduled appointments at the hotel’s spa for makeovers.”
“Jealous! I can’t believe Trina and you are going to a fancy-pants, celebrity-filled fundraiser without me.” An audible pout punctuates her words.
Neither can I, especially that Trina’s going.
She’ll be driving up to attend as Finn’s plus one.
To support his brother, he bought two tickets.
By support, he plans to heckle while Rowan is auctioned off and Trina plans, with champagne flute in hand, to join right along.
Rowan’s growing on her like a fungus she enjoys mocking.
“I know Trina is engaged and they’re just friends—” she makes air quotes. “—but have you noticed she giggles with Finn? Like full-on teeny-bopper giggles.”
With a smirk, I shake my head. “Leave it alone, JoJo. You always think there’s something where there’s not.”
“But I’m seldom wrong… Also, if she drops her dud fiancé for sexy Boy Bronte, it would make my life much easier.”
My nose scrunches. “How?”
“Double wedding. Row-Pen and Fit.” She waves her hands like a Price is Right showcase model.
I snort. More about the idea of Trina abandoning her life plan to run off with Finn, rather than the idea of a future with Rowan.
Since the MVP event, he and GB have pretty much moved in.
On the days when JoJo has chauffeur duty, it’s nice coming home to GB, tongue lagging, at the front door and Rowan in the kitchen preparing dinner.
It’s even nicer to snuggle in his arms, an audiobook playing, as we drift asleep, only to wake up still curled into him in the morning.
“Will Trina be at the meet the mom brunch?”
“Nope.” I take a bite of cake.
“How about grump brother?” The eye-roll is evident in JoJo’s dismissive tone.
“Yeah. Rowan’s mom wanted it to be a family thing.”
“I’d say good luck, but I’m pretty sure Rowan will destroy Oscar the Sexy Grouch if he looks at you wrong.”
I bristle. “I have the ability to speak for myself.”
Reaching across my desk, JoJo squeezes my forearm. “That you do, but it’s also okay to let people who care about you speak up on your behalf. As long as they don’t speak for you.”
“What’s the difference?” Face scrunched, I tilt my head.
“On behalf of isn’t doing it instead of you. It’s just cosigning or supporting you. For is not letting you speak. Alex spoke for you. Rowan speaks on your behalf. Big difference—” Arms wide, she says loudly, “Huge!”
JoJo’s words echo through my brain as Rowan and I stand in front of the reception desk of the downtown Toronto hotel. For the next seventy-two hours, the fancy hotel with its marble floors, trickling fountains, and jasmine-scented lobby, is our base camp.
The receptionist, their head tipped my way, asks, “Will she want a key too or just one for you?”
Rowan says nothing. His hand rests on my lower back, fingers stroking gentle circles.
The action reinforces that he’s got my back but is waiting for me to speak.
Just as he’s done all day. Between the TSA agents, airline staff, customs officials, servers at the LAX restaurant we’d had an early dinner at, and taxi driver from the airport it’s been a night full of asking about she without speaking to the she in question.
Forehead pinched, I grumble, “She’ll have her own key” My tolerance to play the nice blind girl is nonexistent.
The receptionist clears their throat. “Very good.”
Rowan’s warm breath caresses the shell of my ear. “I’m sorry it’s been a parade of assholes today. When we get upstairs, you can take all your frustration out on me. My body is yours to do with what you want.”
My mouth slants into a wicked smile. “Can I tie you up?”
“Christ, woman.” His low rumble pulses through me.
We barely get through the hotel room door before Rowan’s mouth crashes to mine. Our hands roam and our lips devour. Lifting me, my legs wrap around him, as he places me atop the small breakfast nook table near the room’s entrance. He pushes up my dress and glides his hands up my thighs.
“Rowan…wait,” I pant. “I need to freshen up first.”
He slips his fingers beneath my already damp underwear, runs them along my seam, and then pulls them away. “Mmmhmmm,” he groans with pleasure as he licks my essence off his fingers. “I think you’re perfect as is.”
“Christ,” I gasp, my body hums with desire.
“You’re not the only one who can be sassy.” He nips at my lips.
“You like my sassy mouth,” I purr, running my finger languidly down his torso, along the bulge in his jeans, and back up. “Especially wrapped around your lovely cock.”
“Is that an invitation?” He sucks on my neck, making my head fall back. “If so, I’m RSVPing ‘Yes’… Right after I properly worship you.”
Hands placed at the center of his chest, I push him back. “Give me ten minutes.” I jump down, grab my roller bag, and head to the bathroom.
Ten minutes, give or take a few minutes, later I emerge from the bathroom. The quick shower washes away the emotional and physical grime left over after a day of traveling. It also gave me a chance to put on a special gift for Rowan.
Rowan sits on the king-size bed, his bare back towards the bathroom, hunched over his phone. My stomach swoops at the sight of his clothes in a neat pile atop the cushioned bench at the end of the bed.
“Baby,” I say in a sultry voice.