Page 79 of The Fool
“Anything I can do to help?”
“If you can keep me up to date with things here and cancel my meetings for the rest of the week, that will be help enough,” he says with a long sigh.
“Will Helena be back soon, or are we going to need a new temp for the reception desk?”
“Er…she should be, but can you check if whoever is on there now is available to cover next week? I’m not sure when Helena will be back…ifshe’ll be back.”
“Of course,” I reply dutifully before getting to my feet to start my day. When I reach the door, however, I turn back to look at him as a human being, not just his PA. “I don’t need to know the details, but can you tell me if she’s ok? Helena has always been so lovely to me, and I just want to know she’s not hurt.”
“Physically, she’s fine, thank you for asking, Bea,” he says with a tired smile. “I’m sure Nate will fill you in when he gets back from New York.”
“So, he’s told you about us?” I ask with a bright red heat spreading over my cheeks. “I hope that’s not going to cause any problems here?”
“Of course not, I’m glad for you both. He sounded happy, Bea, genuinely happy.”
“I am too,” I admit, realizing that I truly am. “Thank you for everything, Cameron, and I hope things with Helena sort themselves out soon.”
“Hopefully,” he says, looking less than convinced.
“I’ll pick you up some lunch; your usual?”
“Thank you, that would help me out so much,” he says at the same time as rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.
_____
Bea
A few hours later and I’m heading down to the exit to go and grab some lunch from my usual deli. Nate just text me a gushy message that turned into something a little X-rated. I’m sure I’m currently sporting a cherry red tomato hue on my face, but I know I’m smiling; I’m stupid happy and it’s all thanks to my naughty lover. I’m not even sure how the hell I make it outside without tripping over my feet seeing as my head is looking down at my screen the whole way outside. When I finally look up, however, the sight before me takes my very breath away.
“Dean?” I question my very own eyes as I step closer to the sheepish-looking man before me.
“Bea,” he confirms with a nod, then stuffs his hands inside his pockets.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can we talk somewhere?” he asks while looking anxiously around us.
“What about?” I reply bluntly, folding my arms and looking at him like any other stranger. After all, that’s all he is now.
“Please?” he says, stepping in closer with a pained expression. “Bea, I know I don’t deserve anything from you, but please?”
“You’re right, youdon’tdeserve anything. You certainly don’t deserve to call me Bea anymore,” I snap as I begin to shove past him. Before I can get away, he grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me up close to him; the bastard still wears the same cologne. I simply glare at him with an angry grimace.
“Let go or I’ll scream,” I whisper.
“Please?” he begs, looking utterly desperate and somewhat pathetic. “We loved each other, Bea…Beatrice. I just wanna talk.”
“Don’t you ever mentionloveto me again, Dean,” I growl through my teeth. He merely continues to look at me with desperation in his eyes. Though, it isn’t compassion that convinces me to give him my time, more curiosity. “Ten minutes only.”
“Thank you, Beatrice, thank you.”
I lead Dean to the deli shop I was already heading to; I’ll be damned if he’s going to mess up my working day. He follows behind like the little doting puppy I used to be to him, but it brings me no satisfaction to see him doing so. I just want to get this over as quickly as possible so he can stop being here and reminding me of all that I lost. I wonder if he ever knew about the baby; the only person I told was Ben. After telling Emma and Dean about my moving in with him, and for them to go along with my story, Ben promised to keep everything else between us. As far as my family are concerned, there was no Evan, no overdose, and no baby. Emma and Dean were more than aware about the bullying, for they ended up being a part of it. However, my parents remain clueless, which is how I wish it to stay. I still don’t want any of that being brought to the surface. It is a past I wish to leave there.
After making my food order, I get a cup of tea and head straight to my usual table toward the back. Dean gets his bitter coffee and follows me with a sad slump in his shoulders. I don’t care why he’s sad, I just want him to say his piece and leave.
“It takes me precisely eight and a half minutes to drink this tea, so be quick,” I tell him without expression. He winces over my blunt words.
“I’ve wondered about you over the years, Bea,” he says without looking at me. “I’ve missed –"