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“Yes, well. I’m multitalented.”
Ben lets the hand holding the paper drop to one of his thighs and looks down at it, shaking his head.
I’m paralyzed with fear and trepidation, dreading every single life choice I made up to this point, but after a moment, I realize he’s laughing.
Laughing.
He doesn’t look up at me, just continues to shake in near silent laughter. After a moment, the tension in my chest breaks, and I start to laugh as well.
Only then does he seem to remember I'm there and look up at me, his face spread wide with a smile and still laughing. He tosses the paper back onto his desk and crosses his arms, trying to get ahold of himself.
It only partially works. “What did you hope to gain from sending this in? Certainly not a job here.” His voice is still full of laughter.
I shake my head. “Not a job. Just…this. To be here with you. You never answered my calls or texts.”
“I blocked your number.”
Oh, damn.
The thought of him never having read or listened to my texts and voicemails hits me right in the gut like a sucker punch.
Silly little Victoria, operating under the naive, romantic idea that he has been lying in bed, listening to my voicemails and pining over his long, lost love.
He never heard any of them. Never read any of my well thought out reasons or explanations or apologies.
He just hit block and moved on with his life.
“Why…” I struggle to get the words out, struggle to recover from that blow. “Why would you do that?”
Ben’s not laughing anymore. “It seemed like the best thing for both of us.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “The best thing for both of us? I poured my heart out into those texts and voicemails, and you never even got them? I fail to see how that was the best thing for me.”
“Fine. It was best for me, then. I’m not sure what I would…I’m not sure how I would have…” He trails off, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
“You’re not sure how you would have what? How you would have handled me apologizing and begging you to call me so we could talk? Not sure how you would have reacted to me telling you I was coming to New York?”
I’m getting emotional and I can't help it. I have this one shot to get through to him and right now, he seems so untouchable.
“You thought I knew you were coming?”
I can’t read his tone and I’m getting desperate. “I thought…I don’t know what I thought.” My eyes fall to the floor, unable to watch him stand there, unmoved, for another second. “I guess this was a mistake. I’ll go.”
I turn and wait for him to stop me. I reach the door, my hand reaching out for the handle. Still nothing.
I grasp the cool metal and start to turn it.
“Wait.”
Relief nearly sends me to my knees. I wait, hand still gripping the handle.
“Let’s just…I don’t know, Victoria. Don’t go, though. Stay a minute.”
It’s something. I turn and lean against the door, watching him go through whatever he’s going through. In true Ben form, he’s still very well composed, but I can see the cracks. I can see him leaning toward me just enough, as if he wants to close the distance between us.
The man reads my mind.
“I need you to know that I could never be seen sharing any kind of personal touch with an intern candidate in my office.”
