I don't know what's going on with Callum, but the last couple of emails I've gotten from him have been shocking. He's playing nice... and he complimented me. What is up with that? Yesterday it was cupcakes in the morning, pretzels in the afternoon, and then when it came to paying for mine and Lilah's meal, the waitress shocked us both when she said somebody had already taken care of our bill.
When I asked who paid for our food, the waitress laughed before telling us I must have had a secret admirer. Because when "he" called, he had supposedly asked if there were two beautiful females in the restaurant who looked like they could be sisters having dinner together.
At first, I thought she was pulling our legs, thinking it was someone inside the restaurant already, so I looked around. When I saw that no single guys were sitting alone, I remembered that while Lilah and I were talking and eating our meals, Callum emailed me asking for more information on the gala event I had been working on. I told him he would have to wait to get the information he needed after I was finished eating dinner with Lilah.
Months ago, I warned Callum that he was to leave me alone on Monday nights and that it was the one night I needed him not to get ahold of me discussing work. I explained to him that it was the one night I needed him to grant me so I could decompress to relieve the week's stress he added to my life every week.
So when he emailed me asking me to do more work for him while I was still with Lilah, I reminded him that I don't work Monday nights, that I was out to dinner with my sister, and not thinking, I told him where we were.
So, my secret admirer, the waitress, claimed he was. Is my annoying bosshole boss—and I'm pretty sure he paid for our meal. A gesture that didn't surprise my sister for some strange reason, but it sure did surprise the shit out of me.
And now he sends me an email claiming he's proud of me? And that I'm going to the gala?
I'm shook to the core...
It has me asking, did I fall and hit my head, and I'm in a coma or something, dreaming all of this? Because Callum has really been acting strange. And he's becoming stranger by the day. And I'm unsure what to think about his new, amicable attitude.
And the other day, when I asked if he had loose screws that needed tightening, I was only joking around to rile him up. But with how he's been acting lately, I'm rethinking it being a joke. I think it may be the truth.
I honestly believe Callum Harrison has completely lost it.
"You're awfully quiet," Mason said, snapping his fingers before me, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Is everything all right with you? You look lost and confused about something."
"I'm sorry. Were you saying something?" I asked, lifting the glass of wine to my lips.
He smirked and then chuckled. "Yeah, I asked if the boss sent you more mocking food gifts. Or anything else to get you worked up about."
My lips curved up as I set my wine down. "No. Callum hasn't sent any more gifts. But I also hadn't given him any ammo to do so. In fact, he's been quite pleasant to deal with, which is weird. And very surprising. He's never nice to me. One of the reasons I'll address him as bosshole, asshole, or heartless prick," I giggled.
Mason shook his head, smiling from ear to ear. "I don't know how you've gotten away with the names you call him. The last assistant he had asked if he always walked around with a pole up his ass. She, too, also called him an asshole and got fired over those two comments."
Those two comments are what caused her to get fired? If that's the case. Why haven't I? "I should have been fired a long time ago, then. Because I've called him even worse things, and for months I was insulting him, calling him every name I could come up with, and telling him he had a shrimp for a dick. And I'm still employed. So she must have done more than say those two things to him."
He shrugged. "He must like you or something."
I choked on the wine I had just taken a drink of. "Callum like me? You're joking, right?"
"No, not at all."
"Callum doesn't like women. Well, I shouldn't say that. He's a womanizer—so I've heard. So he obviously likes women, but I was told he wouldn't give them the time of day if they want a relationship. He'd rather have one-night stands and never see them again. So, no. Callum does not have a thing for me. Plus, we've pretty much only conversed over emails. I've never actually met him in person. So, that assumption you can forget about."
Mason studied me for a moment, and I was squirming a little with how he was gazing at me. He almost had a look in his eye like he was about to question me about my relationship with the boss, or it was a look as if he were about to ask if I had a thing for Callum. I don't know, I could be wrong, but one thing I know—eyes never lie. Then when he opened his mouth to say something, our meal came.
Thankfully, it did. Because I wouldn't know how to answer any questions, he has for me regarding Callum, and because I find it odd and weird, I can't even find it in my heart to tell Mason about Callum claiming I'm his. I don't want to worry him that he stepped over a line he wasn't supposed to.
The thing is. Mason didn't cross any lines. So I don't know why I feel I have to hide anything from him.
As Mason and I ate and chatted over our meal, a strange feeling washed over me. I don't know how to describe it, but it was one of the most unfamiliar feelings I have ever felt—almost like I wasn't supposed to be here with Mason. And a feeling like it was wrong of me to be having dinner with him.
And if that's what it is—I blame Callum. He's the one who put those two words in my head—you're mine.
I'm not yours, Callum. But why do I feel differently, then? Why is it that when I look at Mason, a very handsome man I wouldn't mind getting to know more of, it feels so wrong to be out on a date and having dinner with him? In one of the fanciest Italian restaurants in Chicago?
I needed a breather to regain my thoughts and get Callum out of my mind. So I finished the last bite of my mostaccioli, slid my chair back, and excused myself. "I'll be right back. I need to use the ladies' room." Along the way to the back of the building, a waitress stopped me, handing me a small box. "What's this?"
"I was asked to give this to you," she smiled.
"By who?"
She shrugged, shaking her head. "I have no idea. A man stopped me asking if I could give this to you, saying it was important, and then he disappeared."
Great. Is she trying to tell me Callum came home early from New York and is here spying on me and my date?
I turned my head to the side and looked at Mason. Wondering if it was from him, and watched to see if she'd give the small gift to me. My eyes returned to the waitress, asking, "Was it from the guy I'm here with?"
"No. The man was tall, dark-haired, and had the most amazing bright blue eyes. If you were to ask me, I'd say he was very attractive."
I looked at the small box, thinking. It can't be Callum. Because from what I remember seeing of Callum, the night we ran into each other, he had dark eyes, not blue eyes. Then, stumped about who it was from, I looked at her, saying, "Thanks."
I didn't want Mason to see I had received a gift from another man while on a date with him, so I immediately tore it open when I got into the bathroom.
Screws.
They're fucking screws in the box.
Callum... it has to be. I told him he must have had some loose screws. So this is him telling me he does.
Smart ass...
And here I thought everything was on the up and up with him, and then he has to do something like this.
I went into a stall, fished my phone from my purse, and because I didn't have his phone number, I emailed the bastard.
From: Eloise
To: Callum
Subject: Leave me alone
Dear bosshole,
You just upgraded back to bosshole instead of Callum.
You need to go home and leave me alone. Why are you out following me around when you're supposed to be in New York? You just can't help yourself, can you? So why did you come home? Is it because you can't seem to stay away from me, or what?
What's your fucking deal?
Screws? Are you serious right now? I mean, I figured you had some loose screws, but I didn't think you lost your screws entirely. So I guess that explains why you've been as weird as you have lately. Now it's beginning to make sense.
And here I was going to send you a quick email thanking you for being friendly, for the nice compliments, and for inviting me to the gala. But now I can't even do that after finding out you're following me around like a lost puppy. And for the damn screws. Instead of sending the lost ones to me, you should have had them re-installed and tightened.
Sincerely,
Your pissed-off assistant who isn't yours.
I threw the screws in my purse, returned to Mason, and apologized. "Sorry about that." I don't know why I was apologizing to him. It's not like I said or did something to feel apologetic about.
A warm smile appeared on his face. "It's no problem. When you have to go, you have to go," he winked, my belly fluttering a little from the wink. A gesture a man does that tickles my insides every time. "Would you care to have a dessert?"
I shouldn't, but I will because Callum just pissed me off. "Sure, why not?"
Mason waved the waitress over to our table, ordered us both a Tiramisu, then reached for my hands and squeezed them tight as he gazed into my eyes.
"Thank you for finally giving me a chance to take you out," he said, grinning. "It shocked me when you brought it up before I could ask."
"You're welcome," I said, another feeling of guilt rushing through me when his thumbs began caressing my hands, followed by the thought of how wrong it was to be on a date with Masson—my co-worker.
Again, I blame Callum for manipulating me into thinking this way. And that's precisely what he did. Because when he said he'd be watching me, now I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting him to be nearby, doing as he said he would be doing—watching my every move.
"I didn't think you'd ever accept my offer to take you out."
My eyes discreetly scanned the room, looking for the boss—expecting to find him hiding behind a menu or something. Because when Mason's hands clutched mine. My gut instantly told me he was in the area, and the hairs on my arms were quick to stand tall after feeling a pair of dark eyes on me.
"I'm sorry it took a while for me to allow this night to happen. It's just that I went through a bad breakup, and because of what I went through, becoming involved with another man or going out and dating again was the last thing on my mind," I responded truthfully, because that was the truth. But there was also a different reason I didn't wish to tell him. Something Mason didn't need to know since we weren't officially dating.
But now that I accepted to go on this date, I don't feel good about it. And that's a feeling I do not like one bit. I should be able to go out on dates and not feel guilty about it, but that's not what I'm experiencing now. And when I returned Mason's gaze and saw how he was looking at me, it made me wonder why something that I felt and believed should be right to do, at the same time, felt all wrong that I am?
"It's completely understandable. I don't know what you went through with your ex, but I want you to know I'm here for you. I've always been there for you. And my ears are open if you ever need someone to talk to."
I smiled at his sincerity. So caring and warming. "Thanks, Mason. You've been an excellent friend to me."
A friend—that's all he is because that's what he is. And that's all I feel when he touches and looks at me. And that's all I think while sitting at this table with him. I didn't experience the incredible electrical sensations when he touched me. And I didn't get the belly or pussy tickling when our eyes met.
That tells me he isn't the one.
The one guy who had me feeling those amazing sensations was my one-night stand. And I guess I should add Callum to that mental note. Because when he had me in that dark hallway, pressed up against the wall, his cock digging into my belly while touching and kissing me and exciting me to the max, my idiotic mind was trying to tell me Callum was the guy I was supposed to be with.
And it freaks me out. I shouldn't think that way about my boss, one I've never met.
His eyes lowered to the table, whispering "friend," which made me squeeze his hands, letting him know, "Hey, you are a friend. And you've treated me wonderfully since I started at Wish Upon A Star; it's just that I'm unsure of what I want right now. I've got so much going on; I'm unsure what to do."
His lips twisted, and he nodded. "I get it. I do. Some breakups are easier to get through than others, so as much as I would love to take you out again, I won't push you for another date. But if you'd like to go out again, just let me know. I'd take you anywhere you want in a heartbeat."
Awe... such a sweetheart.
"Thanks, Mason."
I let go of Mason's hands when our desserts came, and my phone alerted me a message had come in.
"Let me guess. Callum is trying to get a hold of you needing help with the gala event."
I shrugged. "I have no idea. I'm here with you, so I won't even look." I say that. But I really want to see if it's him and what bullshit he has to say this time.
"Sure, it could be anyone trying to get a hold of you, but you better look in case it is him. I know how he gets when he's not acknowledged right away."
I laughed. "It's after business hours. And he's an hour ahead of us. Which means it's after nine at night. So if it is him, he can wait."
"You're playing with fire with him."
That's what Callum told me yesterday.
Shit. He knows...
He sent me that message after I agreed to go out with Mason.
"I've been told that by him before, but like I told him. I enjoy playing with fire and that he should send me a pack of matches next time." I shrugged. "He needs to learn that he can't get everything he wants when he wants it. He says he likes to discipline disobedient people. Well, this is my way of punishing him for contacting me after hours. I don't work for him twenty-four-seven. And he needs to know that."
"Still. You're asking to be fired."
I laughed. "He's had many chances to fire me. And since he hasn't tells me, he won't."
"Because he likes you," Mason replied, believing his assumption as he took a bite of his Tiramisu. "Well, if you're not going to look to see if it's him." He aimed his fork at my plate. "Then you should try the dessert; it's delicious."
The sound my phone made told me it was an email, so I knew it was Callum responding to my email. But because I was still with Mason, I wanted to wait until I got home to open and read what he had to say.
Thankfully, Mason didn't even attempt to kiss me. I saw his eyes and heard it in his voice; he wanted to but felt conflicted about taking the next step when he walked me to my door. But being the perfect gentleman he was this evening, he only hugged me.
Instead of immediately reading Callum's email when I got home, I poured myself a glass of wine; then, because I felt stressed and angry, I headed into the bathroom to soak in the tub—loading it with lavender.
I also grabbed my vibrator before I got into the tub. Ever since Callumn fucked with me at the sex club, I've been sexually frustrated. It also had me feeling desperate to get laid again. But after that one wild night in Florida, I fear the next man lucky enough to get me in his bed won't end up being to my expectations. Fearing Cal has ruined me for all other men—just like he said would happen.
And that fear set in tonight while I was with Mason. I expected him to try working me, and it bothered me on the drive to my place, thinking about how I'd turn him down if he tried. And it was something he surprisingly avoided trying to attempt. I know it was our first date, but I also assumed since we'd known each other long enough, he'd try taking the date to the next level, anyway.
Again, he was the perfect gentleman, showing respect for me. Something I'm not used to experiencing.
After soaking in lavender, loosening my muscles, relieving the stress, and getting myself off, I got out of the cold water, dried off, and dressed in my nightgown. Then I poured another glass of wine, sat at my dining room table, and opened Callum's email.
From: Callum
To: Eloise
Subject: Woah
Eloise,
For the record, I'm in New York. I won't be home until Friday afternoon.
I attached a video with a time stamp and location to prove I'm not in Chicago.
Callum
My curious dumbass quickly downloaded the video, then hit play.
With the camera facing him, he showed it was dark outside and also showed me the bright city lights surrounding him. He was walking a busy sidewalk and showing me Madison Square Garden in the background. He talked as he walked, explaining that since he couldn't sleep, he went for a walk to clear his mind.
He also stopped to ask people what day and time it was, where he was, and told them his girl didn't believe him about where he was. He was also begging them to help him before I gave him two black eyes, a fat lip, and a busted nose.
He knows me well. But? ..."His girl," I scoffed. Pfft.
I'm nobody's girl.
So who was the smart-ass motherfucker that sent me the fucking screws?
I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! 🤞🤞