Judging June (Downtown) (5 page)

I am really glad Faith allowed me back into the hotel and that I wasn’t banned forever. I took a lot of pride and endless hours transforming an old beat up hotel into a beautiful, classy one; it’s now timeless and inviting. I was proud of my work, to be a part of Faith’s team. Not ever being able to see it again would be horrible for me. I love my work, my job. Not many people can say they love their career, but I do. My dad is a retired architect. I used to watch him work, draw all the time; I wanted to be just like him when I grew up.

Before I enter Montgomery Suites, I text June to see if she is doing okay this morning. She immediately responds back telling me she’s fine, but extremely tired. I wanted to tell her to not go into work, to let her staff take care of business, but I know she’d never listen to me. I also remind her to make an appointment with her doctor and to let me know when she had done so. I chuckle when she writes back,
“Yes Boss.”

I walk into the dining room and find Faith at one of the tables, looking at her phone. She seems distracted; I touch her on the shoulder to get her attention. She blinks up at me and puts her phone down. “Hi. Thanks for seeing me.”

From the look in her eyes she’s still very much pissed off at me. “Sure. No problem.” She sits back and crosses her arms, keeping herself reserved.

A waitress comes by and fills our cups with coffee. After I take my first sip, I clear my throat, and tap my finger on the table out of nerves. “First off, I want to say . . . I was jealous of you and Lucky. I wanted you to look at me the way you look at him. I wanted you to feel something for me.”

Her shoulders slump then looks at me with pity. That’s the last thing I want from her. “Phillip, I cared for you.”

I shake my head. “Wasn’t the same for me, but I’m moving on and doing my best to get over it. Having a kid is going to change my life.” As I say this, I realize I really do need to move on. Faith and I were never meant to be. I don’t know why I was so determined to keep her by my side, to make her fall in love with me. Her father put a lot of pressure on me to get Faith to commit, but things just didn’t work out. After I heard he had passed away from lung cancer I had to admit. . . . I felt relieved I didn’t have to play the cat and mouse game anymore. Still, it sucked knowing I would never be the one for her. I wasn’t used to being dumped; usually I’m the one doing the dumping, breaking the hearts. I’m 30 years old, you’d think I would have found the right woman by now.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses,” she babbles back, then adds, “June is going to need you.”

I agree with her. “Yes I know. I’’m going to be there for her and the baby, do everything I can to make sure they’re taken care of.”

She lifts her chin and grins. “Good, because she’s really scared and needs your support.”

I lick my lips and look directly into Faith’s eyes. She needs to know I’m serious about being there for June. “I won’t let her down. I promise.”

“Thank you,” she says. We’re quiet, drinking our coffee when Faith adds, “June is a great person, Phillip. She’s smart, funny as hell and is super easy to get along with.” I don’t respond. “What happened between the both of you is none of my business. . . . .but having a baby is a big deal. Whether it was created out of love or a drunken state, you still created a life.” I want to tell her I agree, but she continues with her advice. “Listen, this may not be what you planned for yourself, but it did happen. Try to find some happiness knowing you’re going to be a dad. It’s a blessing in disguise if you ask me. Nevertheless, it may be the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” she ends on a shrug.

I take everything she said, and let it sink in. Just like June, I am scared shitless about having a baby. I never imagined being parents with a woman whom I didn’t love. Yet it doesn’t mean I can’t care about the baby, or care about June. I agree with Faith, June is quite something. When I first met her I never thought of her as very smart; her tattoos, and piercings got in the way. How fucking wrong, and judgmental I was. She built a company from the ground up and is very passionate about her career. I love that in a woman; someone who is strong, and has goals in her life. I have always been attracted to women who are career driven. It’s another thing that attracted me to Faith.

I change the subject and ask Faith about Lucky. It may not be what I want to discuss, but I do it anyhow. “How are you doing, with Lucky gone and all?” I look down at my coffee, uncomfortable with this subject.

“Oh . . . uh,” she answers with a jolt. “Well, it’s only been four days, but it feels like a lifetime.”

I notice the light rapidly vanishes from her deep blue eyes. She really does love Jones, and I was just the man who was filling that void. I never stood a chance.

“You really love him, don’t you?”

Without hesitation she states, “More than anyone.”

And just like that, I was over her. We say our goodbyes, and I head to the office. Several times during the day I make sure June is okay, asking her if she needs anything. She informs me she’s been sick, but says she cannot let that get in the way of work. It’s very hard for me to not have my say in her decisions; we’re not married, what she does without me cannot affect me. I more than anything want to take control of our situation. If she were my wife I’d. . . . if she were my wife?
Fuck me, where did that come from?
Even if she were to be my wife, It’s not like I could control her anyways. She is who she is—stubborn and strong headed.

NOW THAT PHILLIP HAS DECIDED he is in it for the long haul he has become overly cautious, concerned for me and the baby. . . . yes, a little controlling. I hate to admit it, but . . . I like it. Even though I’ve made it my goal to give him a hard time about certain things—such as my diet—I like being fussed over. I know it’s against everything I ever believed in; women should not be dependent on men. I went to college for a reason, to make something of myself, not be tied down to a man. I can’t help myself though. I’ve enjoyed Phillip’s constant texting, nagging, asking if I’m okay and asking if I’ve made an appointment with my doctor. It feels nice. I just won’t admit it to him. Ever.

He calls me while I am swamped with files on my desk, but I take his call anyways. I like hearing his voice, how deep and under control it is. I’m walking a fine line with Phillip—I know I am. I know I should be avoiding any sexual desires with him and I know deep down I shouldn’t let my heart beat for him. He doesn’t feel anything for me, and never will. He’s made it loud and clear he’s not attracted to me, but I just keep hoping—maybe he’ll see who I am on the inside and forget about what’s on the outside? One can only dream. So, when he asks me to move in with him I almost pass out.

I place my elbows on my desk and touch the palm of my hand with my forehead. “You can’t be serious,” I ask, shocked.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” he answers honestly. .
Holy shit!
I hear him give out a loud exhale when he adds, “I want you and the baby living with me.”

This is just crazy! Yes, I want him fussing over me, but I didn’t expect him to go this far! “Why? We’re not even together, Phillip,” I remind him.

“Look, I’d feel better knowing—“

“Knowing I was under your thumb, 24/7, so I can be under your control?” I scoff, “That is not going to happen.”
Yikes, keep it cool June!

He stresses when he says, “I want to take care of you and the baby.”

“Listen,” I carefully say, “. . . . I am so grateful you want to be a part of the baby’s life. You have no idea how relieved I am, but there is no way I’m giving up the rest of my independence by living with you.” It truly is a miracle he changed his mind so quickly. I have no idea what I would have done if he never came around and got his head out of his ass and straightened out. Now that he has come around, he’s taking full on leadership.
Oh man, I’m in trouble.

“That’s not what I’m asking.” He sounds frustrated, like he’s bending over on his desk like I am. “Look, you can’t do this on your own; waking up in the middle of night, every night, by yourself. If we lived together I’d be there, helping.”

Wow, he does have a point there. I never really thought about who was going to help me, or where to put a nursery. I only have a one bedroom apartment. I would need to move.
Shit!
Yet, I am not going to give in to him so easily. “My mother will be able to help.”

“Full time?”

Great, he got me again. “I don’t know—no she wouldn’t, but—“

“There are no buts,” he scolds. “All I am asking is for you to think about the big picture . . . please?”

I sit back in my swivel chair, circling around, thinking. I roll my eyes and mumble into the phone, “I’ll think about it.” I am
so
going to regret I ever said,
think about it.

“Good.” I can tell he’s smiling. Hell, I really like when he smiles. He’s got a great smile, beautiful teeth—he interrupts my visions when he asks, “Speaking of parents, have you told yours yet?”

“No. Have you?”

“No. When are you going to tell them?”

God, he is so bossy! I love it. So I retort back, “When are you?”

He chuckles, “Point taken.”

Suddenly a wave of nausea hits my stomach. I stop swerving in my chair; this feeling has gotten way too familiar. I cover my mouth, yelling into the phone, “Oh, God, I’m gonna throw up!” I drop the phone onto my desk, run to my private bathroom and. . . . do my business.

I am so freaking sick of getting. . . . sick. I really wish it would go away and allow my life to go back to normal.
Normal? Very funny.
My life is never going to go back to normal. After I brushed my teeth, drank a bottle of water I sat back down at my desk and proceeded with my work.
Work.
I tried to work, but didn’t have enough energy to dig myself back in.

Almost an hour of staring at my computer, doing absolutely nothing, I hear my new secretary yell, “Mr. Caffrey! You cannot go in there!”
What the hell?
Phillip comes barging into my office.

I jump out of my seat, startled. “Phillip!”

Looking flustered and embarrassed, my secretary apologizes, “I’m sorry, June—“

I put my hand up. “It’s fine, Monica,” I say to her. Once she leaves, I cross my arms and scowl at Phillip. “You can’t just come barging in here, Phillip!”

He comes around my desk; his eyes are wild, determined . . .
gorgeous.
“You’re going home . . . now,” he orders.

I laugh, “Right.”

“You just threw up while we were on the phone!”

Oh man, he looks mad!

“And it’s going to happen again. I can’t go home. I have too much to do.” I sit my butt back in the chair and pretend I am very busy. Yet, Phillip is right—I really should go home, but I am not going to actually tell him that.
Remember? I’m playing hard to get.

“Let the staff take care of things,” he suggests.

“Phillip, I am head of this company, I can’t just up and leave right now.”

He leans down toward my face, placing one hand on the back of my chair and the other on my desk. I feel caged in; my heart starts to accelerate faster.
What he does to me. . . . oh, my God.
“You look exhausted and need your rest. Up. Now,” he demands.

“I. Can’t!” I shout at him.

He gives me a half sided smirk and lowers his voice. “You are not going to argue with me. Get up.”

I lift my chin at him and retort back, “No.”

“Fine, if you’re going to behave that way.”

Before I know it I am being lifted out of my chair; Phillip slumps me over his wide shoulder, grabs my bag and immediately hauls me out of my office. “Put me down, Phillip!” I slap his back.

“Nope,” he grunts. “It’s what you get for not listening.” No matter what, he won’t let me down. I want to giggle because we must look ridiculous as we head past Monica’s desk. “Monica, make sure you let the staff know June is going home for the rest of the day,” he orders her in a very stern manner; authoritative. Why I am so turned on by his tone, I don’t know.

I’m held over his shoulder like a cave woman for goodness sakes! Yet, I really am enjoying this domineering side of him. “Monica, put my calls through to my cell!” I yell out, pointing.