Ties

Chapter Ten

"You did... what?"

I flap my hands, motioning for Alice to keep her voice down. Blue eyes fill with alarm at my admission. She closes the frosted glass door and enters my brick-walled office. I told her I grabbed Chaz by the balls—literally.

"Well." I shrug, sitting on the sofa. She takes a seat next to me, mouth gaping.

It's a little sad to say she's one of the few people I can confide in, who listens to me without judgment. When you work your life away and are a single mom, there's hardly time for going out and friends and all that bullshit.

"He made me feel like an idiot. He humiliated me." My cheeks burn at the recent memory of the stuff he said. Things that pissed me off, but ultimately make me disappointed in myself. "So, I returned the favor." Okay, he did totally gesture to his... area. And I did get his consent, though I'm not sure it's what he was expecting.

I sip the coffee she brought in, recalling how I left Chaz on that park bench, doubled over, and out of breath. A scowl creases between my brows. Alice purses her lips, nose scrunched disapprovingly.

"I think he wanted me to come back at him with something?"

I don't think he wanted me to; I know he did. After the initial shock or pain of my vise-grip wore off, he grinned at me. The fucker grinned.

He's sick.

"Well, hopefully, he'll make the right choices. But perhaps you should..." Her head sways towards the door, following the muffled sounds of commotion. I stand abruptly, sliding into my shoes, and high-tail it to my desk, cringing as I remember the last time I saw him near one. Alice gets to her feet after watching me make a dash to sit in my chair. Legs straight. No, crossed. Okay, straight. She glances at me, then twists the door handle. "Give him a chance."

A soft smile tugs at her lips as she greets Chaz, who's standing at the entrance to my office, face riddled with irritation, or pain, or who knows what. Green irises dart from me to Alice, and his harsh grimace fades to a gentle look. She pats his chest and kisses him on the cheek.

I tear my eyes away, not exactly sure how I feel. He closes the door and sits across from me. Large hands fold together, landing on my desk, and he glares at me. I almost shift in my chair—almost. Is this another test? Is he trying to make me nervous? Because he's not!

After a momentary stare-down, he draws in a deep breath, and relaxes back in his seat. "Listen, clearly we got off on the wrong... um... foot."

I reply with a single nod, noticing for the first time that he appears tired, frustrated, and actually... a little sad.

"I agree. It wasn't professional for me to mess with you like that." His fingers trace over the leather-padded arm of the chair. "But I'm not sorry I did."