I want him to kiss me again? I shouldn’t be having these thoughts. Isn’t he supposed to be my boss now?
“Good. It was good. I just came back a few weeks ago. Back here to Chicago.”
“Yeah, I was pretty busy myself. I had a few business things to take care of. It’s good to see you.”
I want him to touch me. As much as my mind keeps reminding me that these circumstances are suspicious and insane, I can’t help but feel attracted to him. I’ve spent the last six months regretting my decision to walk away like that without any contact. And now he’s standing right here in front of me and I don’t know what to say.
“It’s good to see you too. You look well. Really well.”
We are staring at each other in silence. I want to know what’s going through his head. Is he as shocked as I am?
“Coffee?” he suggests, cutting through my thoughts, and I nod for lack of a better response.
There’s coffee in a silver jug, which he pours into two cups. There are sugar and cream and silver spoons, which I help myself to. Reed drinks his coffee black. Of course, he does.
“Do you want to sit down so we can talk properly?” he suggests.
I sit across from him. The chairs are like clouds. I could sink right into them, but I’m trying to keep myself straight and alert.
“So you said this is an actual job? You’ve invited me here so I can look into your family’s history?” I ask.
“Yes, exactly, but there’s a catch. I don’t know anything about my family,” he replies. That surprises me, but I don’t think I fully understand what he means by it. Reed sees it in my eyes and feels the need to explain. “By that, I mean I literally know nothing about my family, Ella. I grew up in foster homes.”
I have to do everything I can to not let my eyes pop out of my head. Reed grew up in foster homes? I don’t know why, but I find that very hard to believe. He comes across as a man born into money. Someone who has always lived in houses with bathrooms the size of my whole apartment.
I can’t picture him in a foster home setting. While I stare at him, Reed smiles.
“You don’t believe me,” he says.
“I don’t think you have a reason to lie.”
“No, indeed, I don’t.”
“There. Exactly! You use words like indeed.”
“You’re saying people who have grown up in foster homes can’t be well-spoken?”
I blush because I know he’s right. I was very quick to pass judgment on his upbringing.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Ella, you don’t have to apologize. Most of what you think you know about foster homes is true. It is not an ideal way to spend your childhood, but I came across a few good homes. I developed a love for reading and an interest in technology and how businesses work. I kept out of trouble, so I immersed myself in books instead.”
This is a side of Reed that I haven’t seen. One that I wouldn’t have pictured him to have. Today, he is very serious about everything, especially his life.
“So, you want me to find out what I can about your biological family?” I clarify.
“Yes, exactly. My parents died in a car crash when I was a baby. As far as I know, I didn’t have any other immediate family and social services had no choice but to put me in the system.”
I’m nodding lightly, pretending to take all this in, but the reality is I don’t know what to make of any of it.
“Reed…I’m so sorry about everything. I really am. I hope I can help you somehow, but you know I can’t make any promises.”
“I don’t want you to work on this just because you feel sorry for me.”
“I want to find your family for you,” I insist.
Reed’s blue eyes pierce into mine. I realize I haven’t tasted the coffee yet and I take a big hurried sip that chafes the inside of my mouth.
“Okay, good, you can start now. You can tell me what you need, and I’ll try and furnish them for you. This will be your office.”
He looks around the room and I follow his gaze. Business has been established. He is officially my boss, and now I’m really working for him. But what about the other thing? That night in London when we kissed.