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Daniel Alexander Page 4
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The worst part was, these men who wanted me out of this position didn’t even know why—other than the fact that I was a female. My work truly did speak for itself, and they all knew it. They simply couldn’t handle it.
All I really craved was respect from an industry that had always been a boys’ club. I wanted everyone to know what they were getting when they worked with me—a talented, on-top-of-things, undistracted, kick-ass executive who could do the job better than anyone had before. So, until that day arrived, there would be no distractions.
Truthfully, up until last night, that rule had been easy to adhere to. I rarely met anyone who wasn’t business-related, and I never mixed business with pleasure.
When I’d happened to meet men, most were intimidated by my success and couldn’t get away from me quickly enough. It usually took all of two minutes into a conversation before a guy would check his phone for messages, looking for a way out.
As disappointing as those times had been, I never let them get to me because I hadn’t been interested in any of those men in the first place. I’d only spoken to them initially to prove that asshole Ben wrong. I wanted to be desired for my ambition and talent, not feared for it. But all I’d ended up doing was proving him right time and time again, and that had only solidified my realization that guys, for the most part, sucked.
That was, until Daniel Alexander had waltzed into my life and made me feel. He’d kissed my lips, and I’d not only let him, but I’d also enjoyed it. Hell, I couldn’t stop daydreaming about it. It was as though this guy had reached into my chest, grabbed my heart with one hand, and squeezed until it started beating again. My heart, which had lain dormant for so long, was now wide-awake.
“Hello?”
The sound of fingers snapping drew me out of my thoughts.
“Earth to Elizabeth.” Barbara waved a hand in front of my face.
“I’m sorry. I spaced for a second. What were you saying?” I tried to play it cool, like nothing had just happened and that I hadn’t gone into a Daniel-space zone.
Hearts were too sensitive, too easily swayed if not properly protected. That organ could fuck everything up for me if I allowed it. I had to stop thinking about Daniel and his stupid, perfect lips.
“I was saying,” she paused for a moment, “that your rules are dumb. One day, you’re going to meet someone who will show you exactly that and you’ll break those damn rules without a second thought. Then, what?”
I sighed a long, drawn-out overdramatic sound. “I guess we’ll see if that ever happens, but it won’t ’cause I won’t let it.”
“You can’t control everything in your life.”
“Wanna bet?”
“You’ll see. You’re going to want a partner, your other half. You’ll want love.” Her tone turned serious as her face looked almost forlorn.
I nodded to make her feel better. “You’re probably right. But I don’t want it right now. I truly don’t care about any of that. I’m so fulfilled in other ways that truly matter to me that I don’t miss what everyone else thinks I should be looking for.”
“Okay, I get that, but, you seem to hate the very idea of it.”
“Of what? A relationship?”
“Love. You hate love,” she said the words so effortlessly.
I wanted to cringe from just hearing them. They reminded me of what Daniel had said about me hating men.
“I do not,” I tried to argue, but it was no use.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“If I were a guy, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. You’d be encouraging me to go out and screw everything that walked, and then you’d high-five me every time I did.”
Her eyebrows pulled together as her face scrunched. “Uh…I’m still encouraging you to go out and screw everything that walks, and I’d do more than high-five you. I’d buy you a damn cookie.”
“I do like cookies.” I glanced up at the ceiling tiles, pondering her idea.
“See? That’s motivation to meet men and break your rules—cookies!”
“Seriously, Barbara, the last thing I need in my life right now is a stupid, needy man. I’m busy enough without having to think about someone else’s schedule.”
Of course, I’d already thought about someone else’s schedule all last night and all this morning. Daniel had infected my mind with his eyes and lips.
“What are you babbling on about?”
“Just all the stuff that goes along with being in a relationship. You know what I mean. I don’t miss checking in with someone all the time or asking for permission or running things by another person or taking his feelings into consideration on every stupid little detail. It’s so much work, and I have enough work.”
“When did you get so unromantic?” she whined, dramatically throwing her head back.
I could pinpoint two exact occasions, and Barbara already knew about one, but I kept the other locked inside.
Shrugging at her would have to suffice for an answer.
“I know Ben really hurt you—” she started to say.
I put a hand up to stop her. “That stuff with Ben happened forever ago.”
“Doesn’t mean it didn’t scar you.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I pouted.
10.
ELIZABETH
Aside from dipshit Ben, my faith in love had been all but shattered when I watched my parents’ marriage crumble before my eyes. My mom had supported my dad all through law school. Then, she had been there for him as he built his company from nothing, and it had grown to be one of the biggest and most respected law firms in the LA area. I always felt like if there had been a poster for “Behind every great man is an even greater woman,” my mom would have modeled for it.
What my mother and myself hadn’t counted on was my dad leaving his perfectly supportive wife for one of his law firm interns. When he’d first announced it to the two of us over a rare family dinner, which I’d driven home from college for, I’d thought it was a joke. My head couldn’t possibly comprehend what the hell he had just said.
“Janet”—he glanced at my mom—“Elizabeth”—and then at me before returning his line of fire to my mother—“I’m leaving.”
“Oh, do you need to get back to the office?” My mom stood, most likely to pack up a to-go container of food for him to take back with him.
“No. I mean, I’m leaving this family, as in moving out. I’ve fallen in love with someone else. You’ve been a great wife, Janet, but it’s time to move on.”
Nothing.
There were no sounds, not even the air being sucked into anyone’s lungs before being released.
I sure as shit wasn’t breathing at this point.
More silence.
There was only the ticking of the clock on the wall.
Bitter silence was all around us as started to sink in.
I fought the churning in my stomach. I wished I could envelop my poor mother inside a rainbow-filled bubble where all the words my dad had so carelessly spewed at her would get sucked right out and explode into nothing. The funny thing about words was that you couldn’t unhear them once they’d been spoken.
My mom bolted from the kitchen table, her legs shaking, as she ran crookedly toward the bathroom. The door slammed, and I was certain she was losing the contents of everything she’d just spent hours making.
“This is a joke, right? Is it April first?” I tilted my head toward the wall, searching desperately for the calendar my mom always kept there. I silently prayed it was a month in which I knew it wasn’t.
“Grow up, Elizabeth. Things like this happen every day. People fall in and out of love. Nothing lasts forever. You’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. This shouldn’t even affect you.”
“An adult? Jesus, Dad, I’m nineteen!”
“Old enough to get over it.”
“Or old enough to be scarred forever.”
“Always so dramatic. You sure you don’t want to be an act
ress? Love is fleeting, Elizabeth. It’s better you learn that now before you think you’ve found it.”
His eyes steeled, and I felt something inside me break beyond repair.
I steadied my nerves and tried to temper my anger. “How could you tell Mom like that? It was really inconsiderate and cruel.”
My dad sucked in a breath, and then he wiped his mustache with a cloth napkin before placing it on top of his plate. “No sense in beating around the bush or dragging it out. I did your mother a favor by telling her this way.”
“Your idea of favors is fucked.” I placed a hand on my stomach, praying that my own dinner contents would stay right where they were.
“Watch your mouth, young lady. I’ll give you a twenty-four-hour pass to act like a spoiled brat, but then I expect you to get over this and move on. I want you to have dinner with Chris and me later this week.”
“Who the fuck is Chris? Are you leaving Mom for a dude? ’Cause that might go over better.” I noticed the odd sliver of relief making its way inside me.
“Absolutely not. A dude?” he breathed out, taking a sip of his wine. “You kids these days. Chris is short for Christina.”
“Of course it is.”
Note to self: Never shorten your name.
I had never planned on shortening my name, considering I most certainly didn’t look like a Liz or Lizzie, but that just reaffirmed my position on the matter.
“And you’re fucking insane if you think I’m going to dinner with you and the homewrecker.”
“I’ve had enough disrespect for one night!” He slammed his wine goblet on the table, and the contents splashed out, staining the tablecloth. “Call me when you pull your head out of your ass.”
“I dare you to hold your breath!” I shouted at his cowardice.
As I watched his retreating back, I wished the whole time that he would do what I dared and then keel over from the wait.
Asshole.
****
A too-smiley-for-this-early-in-the-morning assistant, whose name I couldn’t quite remember, popped into the kitchen. “Good morning, Barbara and Miss Lyons.” She was downright giddy.
“Good morning, Jeannie,” Barbara added her name for my benefit.
“Morning,” I said with a smile.
Jeannie reached for a coffee cup, and Barbara inhaled a sharp breath.
“Jeannie! What is on your finger?”
Jeannie half-screamed in the tiny kitchen before shooting me an apologetic look. She thrust her left hand in Barbara’s face. “I got engaged last night! Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Barbara’s face lit up. “It is. Oh, it’s so pretty. Isn’t it, Elizabeth?”
The little wench pulled Jeannie’s ring under my nose and forced me to look at it. It was stunning. There was no doubt about that.
“It’s really sparkly. Congratulations,” I offered.
“Yes! Congratulations. I want to hear all about what happened and your plans later, okay?” Barbara gave her a quick hug before exiting the room with me.
Once back in the safety cocoon of my office, Barbara started laughing. “Oh my God, you should have seen your face! It was priceless.”
“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“I don’t even know what the right word is.” She started snapping her fingers as if the action would help the word come to her. “Indifferent! That’s it. You’re so indifferent to all this stuff that normal girls go gaga over.”
I guessed the snapping had worked.
“I’m not indifferent. I’m happy for that girl I don’t even know who looks all of twenty-two.”
“She’s twenty-three.”
“Oh my God, why?” I fell back onto my couch, my head resting against the cushions.
“Why what?” Barbara’s face still held the giant smile that had been plastered on her face since seeing the ring.
She fell onto the couch next to me as I inhaled and tried to word my thoughts correctly. I said, “You don’t think that’s a little young to get married? I look back at when I was twenty-three, and it wasn’t even that long ago, but I’ve changed so much since then.”
Barbara lifted a shoulder and made a soft noise. “I don’t know. I would never have done it, but I think some people were just made to get married young—not us though.” She nudged her shoulder into mine for solidarity.
“Not us is right.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Her big doe eyes searched mine for understanding.
“With what? Not going out every night, searching for a husband?”
She laughed again. “Not in those words necessarily, but yeah.”
“Of course I’m okay with that. I just don’t get why it seems like that’s every girl’s main goal in life. I mean, I get why they want to find love, but what I don’t get is the priority of it. You know, that urgency—if it doesn’t happen by a certain time or date, their lives are essentially over.” I looked at her for confirmation that what I was saying wasn’t completely asinine.
“You know it’s your fault,” she said matter-of-factly.
I guffawed. “My fault?”
“The entertainment industry—the movies we see, the books and magazines we read and the music we listen to. It all perpetuates this subliminal message to girls and boys and their roles in life. You know that.”
I sighed. “I know, and I don’t even want to get into that subject today. My brain already hurts. Plus, I’m pretty sure my girlie DNA is busted somewhere along my genetic path, and that’s why I don’t have this overwhelming desire for love in my life right now.”
“You’re definitely busted all right.”
“I don’t even care.” I smiled. “Busted and successful. Busted and wealthy. Busted and happy. Alone. Without a man. Imagine that,” I teased as I pushed up from the couch and walked toward my desk. Why was it so hard to believe that someone could be happy alone?
The sound of my office phone ringing caused Barbara to jump up and run out to her desk. “Elizabeth Lyons’s office. This is Barbara.”
I waited to hear what she would say next, as I looked at my calendar for the meetings of the day. I had one hour until the first one, and I still needed to prep the latest box-office numbers, double-check the movies in preproduction, and meet with my managers to make sure our own production schedule was on track.
Barbara’s giggling voice filtered into my office.
Who the hell was making my assistant laugh like that? I had an idea, but why would he be calling me?
“Stop it, Mr. Alexander. Let me see if she’s in. Would you mind holding?”
I heard another giggle as she peered through my open doorway.
“Daniel Alexander’s on the phone for you.” She was practically foaming at the mouth.
“I’m busy,” I said, pretending not to be the least bit interested even though my entire body flushed with excitement.
“Seriously? You don’t want to talk to him?”
Yes. “Nope.”
“I don’t think playing hard to get is going to work on him.” She rolled her eyes before disappearing.
“I’m not playing,” I said out loud to my empty office.
But I was, and I damn well knew it.
11.
ELIZABETH
I sorted through the paperwork currently shooting out of my printer when a new email pinged. Spinning my chair around to face my desk, I noticed the sender’s name right away, and chills raced through my body.
From: Alexander, Daniel
To: Lyons, Elizabeth
Subject: Still thinking…
Miss Lyons,
I can’t stop thinking about that kiss last night. Tell me we’ll get to do it again—soon.
—Daniel
Was he for real? I immediately hit the Reply button and stared at my computer screen for what felt like hours, but I knew that only seconds had passed. Part of me wanted to respond with something snarky and emasculating just for fun, but the rest of me knew that any response
would only encourage him further. How could I respond to something that mentioned a kiss over company email anyway?
I had to ignore him—or try.
But I had tried to ignore him last night, and we’d seen how well that worked out—strong arms swinging me around the dance floor, his lips on mine.
Ugh!
I should have forced Barbara to call him and bitch him out for being so unprofessional, but he’d probably like that. I had a feeling that Daniel Alexander liked anything anyone told him not to do. Shaking my head, I closed the email without responding, but I didn’t delete it. I didn’t have time for this guy, but Lord, how I wanted to make some.
No! I silently berated myself for being so conflicted when it came to him. He was quickly becoming a weakness I couldn’t afford.
My email pinged again.
From: Alexander, Daniel
To: Lyons, Elizabeth
Subject: Silence
Your silence is killing me. Don’t make me do something rash to get your attention.
—Daniel
Really? My silence had occurred in the last twenty seconds since I received his first email. This man needed a lesson in patience, not to mention accepting the word no. I would add it to the mental list I’d so clearly started keeping on what Daniel needed lessons in. Damn it!
****
Barbara eyed me as I hustled between meetings. Carrying a stack of production papers and two new scripts, I rushed into my office to deposit them before grabbing the folder I needed for my next meeting.
I stopped short the second I entered. A sea of red swarmed atop my desk, and I spied what were easily at least two-dozen long-stemmed roses. My eyes focused in on the single white rose standing in the center of the bunch. This was the most beautiful flower arrangement I’d ever received.