"Thank you, Oscar." I was relieved to walk back in my apartment, with Adam following.

The old maintenance man smiled at me with such a grandfather-like smile, I couldn't help but return it. "My pleasure, Ms. Ashcroft. You have a good evening and don't forget your keys next time."

"I won't. You have a good night too." I shut my door and stood there for a moment, still facing the plain white panels, not wanting to turn and look at Adam immediately. I wasn't ready to talk to him or anyone. I just wanted to be alone, but seeing him looking so helpless in the lobby lounge, I couldn't just help but invite him up.

Adam's voice trailed from the other end of my apartment. "John's a likable guy. I wish the security in my building was as protective as he was."

I removed my jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. "He is. Funny, he thought you were your brother though." I tried to sound casual, like it was any ordinary visit for him being there.

"It happens all the time." He chuckled.

I slowly inched into the living room, feeling like a stranger in my own home. Adam was looking out at the skyline when I finally saw him.

"This is an amazing view."

I hated trying to make small talk, when that was obviously not why he waited to see me. I sat down at my simple, circular dining table. "Adam, can we just get to the reason for you being here?"

He pivoted to look at me and slowly walked over, taking a seat across from me at the table. "I really don't know where to begin, Vicky."

"Well, let me see if I can help." I rested my hands together on the table. "Last night, your fucking brother punched Eric in the face which led to a full-blown fight. Though I tried to stop it, I couldn't. Then you, along with everyone else, including the clients, came out and saw the end of it.

"Then Mr. Gima pulled out of the deal, which led to me being called into your father's office this morning." I gave a grim chuckle then. "And then fucking Mrs. Turner called the event 'unacceptable.'" I made quote signs with my fingers. "The fucking hypocrite that she is, dared to tell me off. Thankfully, your father was kind enough to fire me gently.

"He said he didn't see how I could remain with the company because of his connection to Eric's fucking family. So who am I to argue? I'm not a fucking Herman son. I'm not born into a fucking political powerhouse family like the Walton's. I'm expendable. So there you have it in a nutshell." I slammed my back against the back of the chair, feeling angry for even having to relive the events for that brief moment.

Adam had kept his eyes laser-focused on me the whole time, but now he looked at the table as he breathed out a heavy sigh. "You're not expendable, Vicky. You've honestly been one of the best employees we could have hired. Fuck! You're even better than me and Ryan combined. Maybe not Peter, but you'd probably get there if you wanted to." He gave a half-smile as if the last part of the compliment was supposed to make me happy.

"Yeah, well, then it's your loss." I wiped a tear that tried to stray away from my eye.

Not wanting Adam to see me cry or seem weak, I got up and walked around the corner and into the kitchen. He could still see me through the kitchen window, but I made myself busy, grabbing a wineglass from the cabinet and a bottle of red that sat on the counter by the stove.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" I asked with my back still to him. Of course, I couldn't help but be polite. Damn my parents for raising me with manners.

"No, thank you. I'm still recovering from last night. Mr. Gima and his team can really drink."

I poured until the glass was practically full and took it, along with the half-empty bottle, back to the living room. I walked past Adam and went to sit in my armchair.

He didn't follow, but instead, he turned his chair all the way around, so he was facing me. "Speaking of Mr. Gima. He was actually convinced into staying with us after all."

"Congratulations!" I said in a sarcastic tone. "You just made the company $400-million in profit." I took several gulps of my wine, not caring that some spilled over the sides and landed on my Yankees long-sleeved t-shirt.

Adam cleared his throat. "Actually, it was Ryan who convinced them."

I looked at him with a 'Why should I care?' gaze.

He shifted in his seat, but couldn't seem to get comfortable. He stood, replaced the chair back the way he found it, and moved to sit on the couch instead. "When he found out you were fired, because of him, he went ballistic. I mean, I was beyond pissed too, but he really put my dad in his place.

"Then he stormed out of the office. He didn't come back until the late afternoon, around the time I was finishing up the presentation with the Powers Lodging Group. Which went really well, by the way. We got the contract without them thinking twice about it. They were beyond impressed with the presentation you formed."

I huffed and drank more of my wine. "You're welcome, I guess."

"Anyway, when Ryan came back, he went straight to see my dad again. They were in his office for at least an hour. When he came out, he told me what he told him. That Mr. Gima and his company would still do business with us, but only if two conditions were met."

I looked at him, unamused at his extended pause. He was obviously waiting for me to encourage him to continue. "Dammit, Adam! I'm too tired for all this dramatic shit. Just spit it out already."

He genuinely laughed at my response and held up his hands, gesturing for me to calm down. "Okay, I'm sorry. The first condition was that they only want to work with you throughout the entire project, and no one else."

I spit the sip of wine I was taking back into the glass. "Seriously?"

"And the second one was that Ryan could not be a part of the build. In any way. They said it would go against what they stood for, culturally, to work with someone who cannot control themselves properly during a business meeting. Even if it does involve alcohol."

I laughed at that one. I always knew Ryan's drunken behavior would come back to bite him in the ass, and it finally did. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh, but that shit is the best thing I've heard in a long time."

Adam laughed too. "Yeah, he really had it coming. I keep remembering how much of an embarrassment he was in California."

"He really was! Did you know, he grabbed my ass when we were leaving the wine cellar after the tasting?" I asked, still laughing, but not as hard.

"Did he really? Even with Eric there?"

I nodded. "I knew it was the alcohol that probably encouraged him to be extra forward, but damn did he piss me off that night."

"You and me both." He ran his hand through his hair. "Thankfully, we won't have to worry about that anymore."

I nodded, then stopped, confused by his remark. "And why is that? Did your dad come to his senses and actually fire him?"

"Not quite." He attempted to give another dramatic pause, but as soon as he saw my look of annoyance, he cut it short. "Ryan quit."

*********

Ryan quit? And I was being offered my job back?

My conversation with Adam kept replaying in my head as I tried to sleep. He told me he didn't know precisely why Ryan quit, but figured it had to do with the argument he had with their father. Adam asked me to take the rest of the week off, with pay, and come back on Monday refreshed and ready to work. He emphasized that his father was entirely on board with me returning and that it wasn't only because Mr. Gima wanted me there.

I woke up the next morning, utterly exhausted from the emotional roller-coaster I experienced. Sticking to my morning routine, I drank my coffee in my armchair, then went downstairs to work out. Though it was more of a struggle this time, since my physical energy was still pretty low. I felt grateful that I was able to power through a brisk-walk setting for fifteen minutes.

Since I was in no rush to go anywhere, when I went back upstairs and got in the shower, I stood under the relaxing, steaming hot water, longer than usual. I'd laugh, cry, and shake my head in disbelief at the thoughts of everything that had occurred within the last 48-hours.

Thirty minutes later, I was standing in my tiny walk-in closet, deciding what to wear, when I heard someone knocking at my door. I looked at the time on my bedside clock and saw that it was just reaching eight in the morning. I threw on my bathrobe and tied it tight. A second knock came as I reached the door.

I opened it and saw Eric standing there, with a few cuts and bruises on his nose and cheekbone. His eyes expressed worry and then quickly changed to a look of relief at seeing me. "Oh, thank God you're all right!"

He scooped me up in his arms and hugged me almost a little too tight.

"Good morning to you too." I hugged back.

He pulled back and lowered his head to kiss me gently. "I've been trying to get a hold of you since I found out they fired you."

I stepped back and let him enter the apartment. "My phone's been off. Who told you?"

I walked back to my room to continue getting dressed. Eric followed behind and sat down at the edge of my bed, grasping at his side, probably still in pain from the fight. "Well, I came to your office yesterday to see if you could go to lunch with me, as usual. I ran into Mrs. Turner in the lobby as she was coming off the elevator. She told me you were let go. When she informed me it was because of my fight with Ryan, I couldn't believe it. 

"I've been trying to get in touch with you ever since. When your phone went straight to voicemail, I came by after work, but you weren't here. So I called Sasha to see if you were with her, but she hadn't seen you. When I told her what happened, she freaked out but assured me you were fine. She said you probably wanted to be alone and demanded I just go home."

Again, another reason I knew she was the person I wanted by my side as my matron-of-honor at my wedding. "I love Sasha." I smiled as I walked out of my closet, wearing a simple pair of loose jeans and a graphic t-shirt.

He actually nodded in agreement. "I'm starting to see why. She seems to know you so much better than I do."

I walked across the modest room, to my full-length mirror by the windows, and watched my reflection as I started braiding my hair. "Don't worry. After being married to me for a few years, I'm sure you'll get closer to her level in Vicky Trivia."

He beamed. "I can't wait."

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment as I finished my hair, then grabbed my makeup bag that sat next to my mirror on the window ledge. I unzipped it and pulled out what I would use to beautify myself for the day.

As I blended my foundation on my face, I looked back at Eric in the mirror. He was just sitting there mesmerized by watching me work my magic. My eyes then rested on his cuts and bruises, which made me sad. "I am deeply sorry for breaking your heart."

My words seemed to surprise him. He obviously wasn't expecting that. He looked at me with a soft expression that made him as handsome as when we were in Naples. "Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that and know you mean it."

I closed the foundation bottle and moved to sit on the bed next to Eric. I looked at him, realizing I must look silly with only half of my makeup done, but didn't care. "The hurt I felt yesterday, from just losing my job, made me realize how much pain my own actions caused you. I understand now why you felt threatened and couldn't trust me, even though you said you did. I didn't think of you during any of it, and I can't believe you still want to marry me after all that has happened."

Eric huffed with a smile. He winced slightly as he raised his arm up to caress my cheek with his gentle fingers. "I can't believe you still want to marry me too. Even after you lost your job because of me. You really are something special. I hope you know that."

I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck. I searched his loving gaze and leaned in, kissing him with the passion I had for him back in Naples. While his tongue and lips massaged mine, his hands slipped under my shirt, and his fingers trailed up my bare skin, sending shivers through me. Then they came back down to the hem, lifting it up slightly. I paused for a moment. "Don't you have to get to work?"

"I'm exactly where I need to be." He gave a seductive smile and returned to remove my shirt.