Page 5

Chapter five

Cecilia

I always did like playing in tree houses.

~ The Next Day ~

I sit up in bed and stretch my hands to the ceiling, letting out a small yawn before a smile grows on my face and my belly fills with giddiness. I’m not normally a morning person, but something in me changed last night.

I expected to be more tired than this given the time I had finally managed to fall asleep. After tossing and turning most of the night, reminiscing about the events from yesterday, it was well past two in the morning when my eyes finally gave in to some sleep.

The absent rays of sunlight in my room tell me it’s still pretty early, but dawn is clearly only inches away, which is a good enough reason for me to start my day. I toss the cover back and step out of bed, humming to myself on the way to my en suite bathroom.

Once I’ve showered, I head to my walk-in closet and quickly choose a gray pencil skirt and white blouse. There, easy and simple. I towel dry my hair, letting it take on its natural wavy look, then decide to forgo makeup and call it a day.

I make my way toward the kitchen and get the coffee machine started. A look at the clock over the stove tells me it’s just past six in the morning. I don’t need to be at the office until eight, but I’m thinking I might head in a little earlier.

We’re a bit behind on the Margo Project, so I’d like to get ahead of it before other events pile on.

Also, leaving early might spare me a little time from the thousand questions Emma’s going to have once she gets to me— since I wasn’t home when she got back from her Thursday night family dinner.

I’m surprised she hasn’t already barged down the hall to pester me.

I love my best friend, but God, can she be a handful when she has something in mind.

I look around the exquisite open floor plan I’ve been calling home while waiting for my travel mug to fill. The place is elegant and chic, white dominating the space with beige rugs, throw pillows, and lamp shades decorating the living room.

Floor-to-ceiling windows give off a majestic view of the city, and beautiful artwork lines the walls every few feet.

Marble countertops make up every kitchen surface, with sleek white cabinets along the back and state-of-the-art appliances in every corner.

And let’s not forget the wine fridge! Any food enthusiast’s fantasy come to life.

This place still takes my breath away every time I take it in. I owe so much to Emma for letting me stay with her. I’ve always known Em came from a wealthy family. When we met in college at the University of Toronto, she always showed up with new designer clothes and handbags.

All the vacations she took and the stories she told made it blatantly obvious she had money. Everyone wanted to be her friend, yet I was the lucky one who got to call her my roommate.

From the moment we met, we were inseparable, glued at the hip. When the time came to say goodbye after receiving our bachelor’s degree in meeting and event management, Emma went back home to New York.

I stayed back and finalized the preparations to sell my grandmother’s estate. Even though we stayed in touch daily, we rarely got to see each other given both our busy schedules.

Not until six weeks ago, when she got me an interview with the amazing Amanda Wilson at Wilson Events. A week later, I was moving in with my best friend and working by her side at one of the best event-planning companies in New York. Now we practically spend every waking moment together.

I pick up my travel mug and secure the lid in place once the coffee machine has finished brewing.

I walk in silence toward the entryway, slipping my feet into the new pair of ankle boots Em got me last week as a ‘sorry I made you work extra hours so that I could go on a date’ gift.

Grabbing my purse that sits on the little table by the entrance, I open the door and walk out.

As I lock up from the outside, I hear the door behind me open.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here. Good morning, Cecilia. Have a nice night? You got in pretty late, from what I recall.”

I turn toward my early rising neighbor with a grin. She’s still dressed in her nightgown, rollers in her graying hair. “Good morning, Ms. Maggie.”

“And that young man that was with you... I didn’t get a good look at his face, but from what I could see, good for you!”

I shake my head in amusement before taking a sip of my delicious hazelnut flavored coffee. She really is a nosy neighbor.

“It’s a shame you didn’t invite him in. If it had been me, I would have climbed that man like a tree and played with that treehouse all night long.”

My eyes widen with shock, her comment nearly making me spit out my coffee. “OH MY GOD! Goodbye, Ms. Maggie!” I say, turning and heading down the hall to the elevator, putting an end to this absurd conversation.

“Have a good day, dear!” she calls back with a snicker before heading back into her unit.

Once on the lobby floor, I wave at the security guard behind the counter and offer a good morning to the doorman who leads me out of the building. From there, I begin my fifteen-minute stroll to work.

The sidewalks are mostly vacated this early on, but that won’t last long. If there’s one thing Manhattan is known for, it’s densely crowded streets.

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, I walk into the skyscraper that houses multiple businesses, including mine, with a skip in my step. I could blame it on my new boots, but deep down I know that’s not the case. The truth is I haven’t been able to get a certain someone off my mind.

“Are you trying to avoid me, young lady?” It’s a quarter past eight when Emma makes it to my office, looking as if she just walked off a runway.

She’s wearing a fashionable plaid dress with a pair of black Mary Jane platform pumps encasing her feet, and her copper-red hair is up in a stylish messy bun with minimal makeup covering her face. She doesn’t need it, she’s flawless.

She perches herself on the corner of my desk, knees crossed while drumming her fingers along the wooden surface. The impatience in her voice exudes through her body.

“Good morning to you, Em. How was your family night?” I smile brightly in her direction before returning to the folders in front of me, completely ignoring her comment. I enjoy ruffling her feathers every once in a while.

“Don’t you ‘good morning’ me! Where the hell have you been?

First, you’re nowhere to be found when I get home, then you ignore all my texts and calls.

You come home at God knows what time, and when I wake up, you’re already gone!

EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” she says, her arms flailing around as she goes on, becoming more and more agitated.

I suppress the smirk from my features before giving her a glance. “Did you have your coffee this morning?” Apparently, it was not the right thing to say considering the redness creeping up her face and her furrowed brow.

“Cecilia! So help me God, if you don’t tell me where you were this instant, I’m going to hit you with this.

.. this...” She looks around my office for her choice of weapon.

“This stapler!” She raises it with her hand and proceeds to demonstrate her threat through the air.

A giggle falls from me despite the hand over my lips to hide my smile.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Are you going to tell me or keep me guessing? Because I will hit you. Fuck HR, Jerry loves me, you know he’ll look the other way if I tell him to.”

This time, there’s no holding it in. A laugh bursts through me because she’s right. Jerry, our CHRO—chief human resources officer—would definitely turn a blind eye. The poor guy has had it bad for her since she started working here two years ago.

She lets out an aggravated sigh at my reaction as I lean back against my chair, debating what to do. It’s strange, a part of me is excited to tell her about my time with Silas. But then another part wants it to remain a secret, like that might keep the magic of the moment alive.

I nibble my bottom lip before deciding to put her out of her misery. She is my best friend after all, I can’t keep this from her. “I was out... with someone.”

“You went on a date?” she asks in disbelief, like me dating is unprecedented. Okay, maybe she has a point.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a date. At least not done in the traditional way. It was more of an impromptu date,” I say coyly.

“You went on a date.” This time it’s a statement. “You never date.” And there’s the point.

She’s right, I don’t. I mean, I went on dates during our college years, but that was it. I never felt the need to waste my time on something that didn’t have real potential. So, it’s been just me and my pink silicone boyfriend since then.

“I know, but it was different.” I give a little shrug of the shoulder, trying to play it cool even though I’m feeling anything but cool. In reality, the thought unsettles me because for the first time, it was different. He was different.

“Wow... okay, well, tell me about this mystery man. What’s his name? How did this happen? What did you two do?” she fires off questions a bit too eagerly .

“His name is Silas, and well, he pretty much joined my table at the little Italian restaurant near our place without asking. Just sat down, ordered wine and food before even getting my name.”

“Hmm, a man who goes after what he wants, I like that. Keep going, what else did you do? And don’t bother lying to me, you came home pretty late, so I know there’s more.” Her eyes narrow my way.

“We just walked through Central Park for a while and talked, then he walked me home.”

I don’t go deeper into details given how Silas was evasive with certain subjects. I sense he doesn’t enjoy everyone knowing his business. Although that must be a struggle with his profession.