Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series) (16 page)

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

The next
morning, I decided to take the train to work.
 
As hot as I knew it would be on the
subway, I couldn’t afford to keep taking cabs, so I got up early, gave Rhoda a
hug and a kiss on each cheek before I left, and walked the few blocks to the
nearest station.
 

With the
morning air at my back, it wasn’t nearly as hot as it would be on the ride
home, but the train I boarded was nevertheless packed with people, and the
humidity was rising.

Today, I’d
chosen to wear an off-white, two-year-old ivory crepe jersey jacket, a matching
pencil skirt, and a dark-brown jersey tank with matching pumps.
 
The outfit was far from new, but it
still fit me well—and frankly, I thought it looked fine on me even though
I knew in my gut that Blackwell would probably hate it.
 

I wore my hair
pulled away from my face, and I’d gone for a fresh, light foundation and a nude
lip.
 
Soon enough, I’d receive my
first paycheck from Wenn, and when I did, I’d go back to Century 21 with Rhoda
along for the ride, and we’d have a girls’ day of fun.
 
I’d try to find some new business clothes
that were more stylish than what I now owned.

Until then, I’d
just have to rely on what was in my closet.

When the subway
pulled away from the station, I heard one of my phones ding in my bag.
 
I opened the bag, determined which phone
it was, and saw that it was my work phone.
 
Brock had sent me a text, which rattled me because this phone was only supposed
to be used for business.

I need to give
him my personal number STAT
, I thought as I turned on the phone.
 
He can’t call or text me on this
phone.

Still, when I
read the next, I couldn’t help but smile.
 
“Good morning, Madison,” he’d written.
 
“If I look a little rough this morning,
that’s because I thought of you all night long.
 
Sorry I didn’t send along the
report.
 
I decided to tweak it
myself last night before I show it to you.
 
Can’t wait to see you at work.
 
X—Brock.”

I immediately
replied.
 
“Sorry to hear that you
couldn’t sleep,” I wrote.
 
“Before
you arrive, I’ll make sure that the coffee is on.
 
In the future, call me on my personal
phone.
 
If Blackwell catches me
using this phone for anything outside of business, she’ll have my ass.
 
See you soon.”
 
I gave him my personal number and sent
off the text.

As the train
swayed and zipped through the bowels of Manhattan, stopping here and there,
with new faces entering while others exited, I recalled my conversation with
Rhoda last night, and how she hadn’t responded to me when I told her that I was
concerned about today.
 
I knew that
couldn’t be a good sign, but after thinking about the situation last night as I
tried to fall asleep, I came to the conclusion that, by sheer focus alone, I
was capable of being on my game without allowing thoughts of Brock to derail
me.
 
Despite how I felt about him, I
was hardly powerless.
 
I just needed
to be on point—and be the professional that Blackwell demanded and
expected.

And that’s what
I plan to do.

When I arrived
at Wenn, I was thrilled to see that the morning subway ride wasn’t nearly as
bad as I thought it would be.
 
I was
a good fifteen minutes early, it had cost me next to nothing, and it had left
me with more than enough time to reach my floor, slip into the restroom, blot
the perspiration from my face with a paper towel, and touch up my makeup before
I went to my desk.

As I neared it,
I heard Blackwell talking on her phone.

“Daniella,
please,” she said in that exaggerated voice of hers.
 
“We’ve discussed this for the umpteenth
time.
 
Cutter has moved on—I
can tell you that with certainty.
 
You need to get him out of your head and move on with your life.
 
I’m sorry?
 
How was that?
 
Really?
 
Then you really have lost your mind and
your self-respect.
 
Under no
circumstances will you propose to him again.
 
You already embarrassed yourself when
you got down on one knee and proposed to him in front of all of our friends.
 
I’m telling you that you are too young
for him.
 
And besides, he already
has someone else he cares about now.
 
Yes, that person was his nurse, but who cares?
 
What’s done is done.
 
When you fall for someone, Daniella, as
Cutter has for, uh, whatever her name is, there is no taking that back.
 
Love is love.
 
It can happen to any of us at any point,
and to deny that it’s happened to Cutter is ridiculous.
 
I should know.
 
Your father and I might be divorced, but
I can tell you that there was a time when we loved each other deeply, and that
our relationship evolved quickly.
 
So quickly, in fact, that I thought my head was going to spin off my
shoulders.”

Could I be
hearing her correctly?
 
Blackwell
herself had once been in my shoes?
 
I couldn’t believe it.
 
I
slowed my pace and stopped in the break room, which was only three offices away
from her office.
 
I knew I shouldn’t
eavesdrop, but given her own swift judgment of Brock and me, I couldn’t stop myself
from listening.

“There are
other men in this city who are just as worthy of you.
 
Yes, I get it—Cutter is
special.
 
But again, he’s also
taken.
 
So, for your own sake and
please, for the love of God, for your own mother’s sanity, let go of him and
move forward with your life.
 
What’s
that?
 
Oh, no you won’t.
 
You will
not
create a Tinder
account.
 
I might not have known
what you meant by that when you mentioned it at dinner last night, but believe
me, girl, I Googled it this morning, and I’ll be damned if you are going to
start whoring yourself out to every man in Manhattan with shots of your
cleavage and sexy what-nots.
 
If you
even dare to open an account, I will find out through your sister.
 
Alexa will tell me everything.
 
You know she will.
 
And if I do find out that you defied me,
I swear to God that I’ll cut you off.”

There was a
pause in their conversation, and I waited with bated breath for Blackwell to
say something more.

“Look,
Daniella, tears are never the answer,” she said in a surprisingly maternal
voice.
 
“I know that you’re
upset.
 
I know that you’re
disappointed.
 
You might not think
so, but I do get it.
 
I know how
powerful it can be when you fall hard for someone.
 
I also know how disappointing it can be
when the love you feel for that person isn’t reciprocated.
 
During my freshman year in college, I
was in that very situation with a young man whose name shall never be spoken.
 
Yes, sort of like Voldemort from those
Harry
Potter
books I read to you and Alexa when you were young—though to
be fair, the young man I’m talking about wasn’t nearly as evil as that
beast.
 
Still, he was wholly
disinterested in me, which was heartbreaking.
 
I had to come to terms with that just as
you have to do so with Cutter.
 
Will
it be easy for you?
 
Clearly not in
the interim.
 
But things will get
better.
 
Trust your mother on
this.
 
So listen to me.
 
How about if you take one of the credit
cards and go shopping with Alexa or one of your girlfriends?
 
That should cheer you up.”
 

There was a
beat of silence before Blackwell said, “Alexa is not a lesbian.
 
But even if she was, who cares?
 
I certainly hope that you
don’t—she is your sister, after all, and she has one of the biggest
hearts I know.
 
That girl is a
light.
 
Am I stymied that a child of
mine became so environmentally conscious?
 
Of course I am.
 
But she will
forever be my little tree-hugger.
 
Still, if you’d rather not take her with you—fine.
 
Go out with one of your girlfriends and
do some therapeutic shopping, but don’t you dare spend over five grand.
 
Do we have a deal on that?
 
Not a penny over.
 
Good.
 
I love you too.
 
More than you know, Daniella.
 
All of this will get sorted out in time
and blow over.
 
One day, you’ll find
that special young man who is as interested in you as you are in Cutter.
 
I promise.
 
All right.
 
I’ll see you later tonight for
dinner.
 
Have fun today and please,
for your own sake, forget about Cutter.”

When I heard
her sigh as her cell phone clicked against her desk, I quietly backed down the
hallway and then purposefully walked up it again in earnest.
 
When I passed her office, I stopped to
say hello, only to find that she had her head in her hands.

“Good morning,
Ms. Blackwell,” I said.

She looked up
at me with a start.
 

“Oh,” she
said.
 
“Sorry.
 
Yes.
 
Good morning, Madison.”

“Can I get you
anything?”

“How about a
love interest for my daughter Daniella?” she said.
 
“Somebody who’s not only rock solid on
every level of life, but who can tame the demonic beast that lurks within her.”

“I’m sorry . .
. ?”

“You don’t want
to hear about this.”

“I’m happy to
listen.”

And for a moment,
I could see Blackwell considering whether she should allow me into her personal
life.
 
Whether my opinion
mattered.
 
Whether I was worth that
risk.
 

“Fine, but
you’ll only regret it,” she said.

Seriously?
 
She’s going to open up to me?
 
This might be a turning point.

“My eldest
daughter Daniella is nothing short of a drama queen, which I’m sure will come
as no shock to you since she did, after all, come from my womb.
 
She’s at a point in her life when she
wants to have a serious relationship with someone.
 
I’m at my wit’s end with her, so much so
that last night, I even considered setting her up with Brock.
 
He’s a bit older than she is, but not by
too much.
 
And while they’ve known
each other for years, a significant amount of time has passed since they last
saw each other.
 
But still, I always
come back to Brock’s sordid past, and that’s the end of it for me.
 
She deserves better than that.”
 

She seemed to
catch herself when she said that and then narrowed her eyes at me.
 
“Which must rest well with you.”

“Ms. Blackwell,
I’m here to work,” I said, keeping my voice measured despite how sick I was of
her throwing Brock under the bus.
 
“And I also need to prove myself to you.
 
Despite what you might think, I am not
pursuing Brock.”
 
Which is the
truth, because Brock is the one who is pursuing me.
 
“And besides,” I said.
 
“I met a very nice young man at the gym
yesterday after work.
 
I hope to run
into him again.
 
And if I do, who
knows where things might go?
 
I
don’t, but I’m open to the idea.”

“Well, that’s
interesting,” she said.
 
“What does
he do?”

“We didn’t go
into specifics, but I sensed that he’s up-and-coming in the business
world.
 
He seemed to be determined
to me.
 
And from our conversation
alone, it’s clear that he’s well educated.”

“How well educated?”

If only you
knew that everything I’m saying to you is true, and that I’m actually talking
about Brock, you’d slaughter me.

“He said he has
his M.B.A.”