Cheated and Crooked

"Coffee, black," I smiled at the barista in the small cafe.

New York was difficult; I had a meeting in 20 minutes and I was sure to be late.

I decided to call my assistant, "hey, Anne, you're gonna have to reschedule."

"But, ma'am, he's already in the lobby," she spoke into the receiver.

"Shit," I murmured and hung up the phone.

I told the barista to cancel the order and left a $20 tip for the hassle.

Then I border-line sprinted to my car.

"Arthur, to the office," I instructed and he nodded quietly.

The commute took approximately 25 minutes. By the time I stepped out of my car to the building, I was already five minutes late.

Well, now that I was late, it might as well be fashionable. I looked into the reflection of my black Roll's Royce. My black pant-suit had no wrinkle in sight. My slicked back bun had no hairs out of place. I smiled at me reflection, commending myself for my own perfection.

Then I grabbed my bag out of the car and walked into the building, greeted by my staff.

"Good morning, Ms. Klein, he's actually right through here," Anne led me into my conference room.

And there he was, sitting with his back to me; he was wearing a crisp black suit that hugged him tightly. His dirty brown hair was perfectly disarrayed and if I hadn't known better, I would have thought it was him.

"Good morning Ms. Klein," he stated with a familiar firm voice.

I slowed my pace, as I approached my chair at the end of the table.

I noticed there were two men beside him.

Although I was internally curious and intrigued, I had to pull myself together for the sake of the meeting.

"Gentlemen," I spoke out firmly, "sorry for the delay. Let's get right to business, shall we?" I motioned Anne to take the seat beside me.

In that moment, the man turned around and I realized it was him.

The familiar piercing navy blue eyes. The confidence. God, how could I even had doubted it? It was him.

He made eye contact with me and for a second I froze, but I quickly regained my senses and cleared my throat.

He smirked.

******

After the meeting ended, we allowed our assistants and advisors to take the leave, but neither of us left our seats.

"What's it been now?" I asked him, with a cold expression.

"10 years," he told me firmly, without an ounce of doubt.

"Wow," I said raising my eyebrows, "you haven't changed a bit." I chuckled.

He responded with a warm laughter, "oh but haven't I, Daphne?"

I smiled, rolled my eyes, and then shifted to get out of my seat.

"It's been a pleasure, Clayton. It really has, but I have other meetings to attend."

He got up and blocked the door at an almost impossible stride.

"Excuse me?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Cancel," he demanded.

"Absolutely not," I glared into his eyes. Even with my 3-inch heels, he was taller than me. I didn't back down.

"Please?" he asked me.

"Why?" I responded with a question, rather suspiciously.

"Well, it's not every day you run into someone you knew in high school," he told me.

"Someone you knew in high school?" I rolled my eyes in disbelief.

I shrugged him to the side and moved past him to exit the conference room, but he grabbed my arm.

"My goodness Daphne, you have not changed. I apologize. What do you say though, let's grab brunch?" he asked me.

I realized in that moment that my next meeting was with Borris Wellton, one of the largest bores of the city.

"Fine, I will have brunch with you," I told him, "but only because I'm hungry and my next meeting is with Borris."

"Oh god, Wellton?" he asked.

"The one and only," I responded and he chuckled.

"Let me just grab my coat," I said, walking into my office.

I texted Anne to handle my next few meetings and I walked out of the building, where Clay was waiting for me.

As I approached him, he put his hand on the small of my back and led me into his car.

I responded to some emails on the way to the restaurant, and we chatted about college.

"So when did you graduate?" he asked me.

"Well, I graduated a year early, then decided to get my MBA at Columbia," I told him, "how about you?"

"Wow, you make me feel awful and sluggish. I took a gap year and it took me a whole 5 years, then I decided to get my Master's at U-Chicago," he told me.

"Mmm so you're a newbie," I told him.

"Absolutely not, " he shook his head at me, "would you look at that, we're here."

I laughed lightly and stepped out of the car.

We walked into the restaurant and one of the waiters took our coats.

"For two," Clayton told the lady at the front, and I responded to a few texts from Anne to make sure the meetings would run as smooth as possible.

"You know this is very irresponsible of me," I told him as we sat down.

"Responsibility has always been your cup of tea," he said to me, smiling warmly.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Cut to the chase, Clayton. What is it that you want?" I asked him.

He looked at me in confusion. For a second, I thought it was genuine. But then I remembered who he was, his character, and I was quick to recover.

"Nothing, major. Just a date with you," he said with his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion.

I scoffed.

"This? Is not a date," I told him.

"I know," he told me, "but I was hoping to score one after this?"

"You have GOT to be kidding me," I told him.

"What do you mean?" he asked me, genuinely confused.

"You cheated on me in senior year; that kind of stuff doesn't just fly, not even ten years later," I told him, firmly.

"Daphne, you don't get it, you never even let me explain. You literally cut me out of your life. You blocked me on everything and your parents told me you never wanted to see me again," he was on edge.

"Yes, Clayton, I did not want to speak to my boyfriend of four years who I caught kissing my best friend of seven years, forgive me for being human," I told him, venomously.

He scoffed. "Daphne, you don't even understand what happened, do you?"

"You're joking," I said it as a statement, because there was no way he could be serious.

He glared at me with his piercing navy eyes.

"Fine, you wanted a chance at explaining yourself? Go for it. I'm all ears," I said leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms.

"Well," he said, loosening his tie, "other than attending the same school together and rough shallow interests, what did you really know about Raina?"

I took a moment to think about this question and realized that my answer was not one that was going to win me any points in this conversation, so I stayed silent.

"Exactly," he told me after a few minutes of the silence, "you thought she was this sweet girl but you didn't really know anything about her. Daphne, she was manipulative and the day we graduated? She had nothing to lose. She texted me off of your phone that day, and I thought it was you so I went to the locker room, and then she kissed me, and then you walked in," he told me.

Wow. The year that followed I was heartbroken but I had never once thought that the situation could have been anything other than what it had seemed.

I had completely cut him off. I didn't even allow him to explain himself and now here we were. Ten years later.

"Clayton, we have been separated for over 10 years and I'm thoroughly invested in my career right now," I told him.

"Daphne--" he started but I cut him off.

"You can't tell me that there isn't someone in your life right now," I told him.

I was met with silence and a longing glare.

"No way, THE Clayton Grant. The man who used to pull ALL the girls in high school is single?" I asked, with sarcastic shock.

"I guess my looks have faded," he told me shrugging, but we both knew that was a lie. He was as dashing as ever with the perfectly symmetrical face, chiseled jawline, and navy blue eyes.

Before I realized that I was staring at him, I got a call from Anne.

"Ma'am, they're asking for you," she spoke to me in a low voice and I realized, by the tone of her voice that it was urgent. I let her know that I would be over as soon as possible.

"Saved by the bell," I motioned to my phone, "check please."

I was going to slide in my card before I realized how urgent it was. I pulled out a fifty dollar bill instead.

Before I realized it, Clayton had already slid his card into the check and I was furious.

"Woah there, it's just the gentleman thing to do," he told me, noticing that I was upset.

"No, Clayton. I was going to pay cash. They need me at the office," I told him in a low voice.

"That's okay, take my car," he told me.

"Thanks," I got up to leave and he kissed my cheek.

"Besides, this way I can pick you up for drinks later," he said and if I wasn't in such a rush, I would have heated at this suggestion.

I rushed out the door, finding myself excited and looking forward to see him again.