Chapter Nineteen

The next morning, I woke to such a sweet text from Rhys.

I may not be there, but I'm still falling for you over here xxxxx

With a thoughtful smile, I had eagerly replied back.

Ditto xxxxxx

His text stayed with me during the whole time I was on my way to work—the hurried walk to the subway, sat on the tube, weaving my way through all of the other hurried hoards of people in the morning rush hour, the brisk walk towards The Docklands, slowing down for the revolving door and standing still in the very crowded lift—his text stayed with me.

Sitting at my desk, it looked different. It hadn't changed, I just think I had.

Written down messages are still on my right.

Mobile phone is still on my left.

All the pens in my pot are in correct and present order.

Everything is just as it should be, except me.

"Clara, my office." Dex taps my desk, wanting to get my very faraway attention.

Standing up, I know I have to haul myself from out of the doldrums. I can't keep moping around, people will get suspicious. No, I have to try and shake off the missing of Rhys that seems to have glued itself to me. With a quick tap on Dex's glass door, I walk right in. "Morning." My polite greeting comes out forced, overly cheery.

"Sit down, Clara." Is Dex's glum instruction. No smile. No polite "Morning" back. Just a glum instruction for me to sit down.

"Is there something wrong with the interview?" I had tweaked a few of the questions, in order for Dex to believe Rhys's request of needing to check over some of them before returning to LA. With the tweaks done and Rhys gone, I had emailed the adjustments over to Dex last night.

Leaning back in his big leather chair with his fingers pressed thoughtfully together like a steeple, he shakes his head. "The interview is fine."

Relieved, I smile, feeling able to breathe normally now. "Oh, that's really good to hear." I say with a small gasp of joy.

Dex's unmoving eyes seem to really study me; quietly and carefully. "Is something going on between you and Rhys Ryan?"

Defensively straightening up my back, I decide to be just as straight with Dex as he is currently being with me. "Would it be a problem if there is?" I confidently ask.

"Bloody hell, Clara! There was a reason why I chose you to front the Rhys Ryan interview, and that reason was because I thought you had the intelligence and the common sense to not get involved with him." Dex slumps back in his chair, angrily twisting it from left to right. "I thought better of you, I really did."

The deep disappointment in his strong voice actually stings. There has always been an unrivalled respect between us and to know that I have let him down on some professional level makes me feel awful. But I also have to stand my ground. My personal life is my personal life. As long as my being with Rhys doesn't interfere with my work, I really don't see what the problem is. I don't intend on being disrespectful to Dex, but he needs to hear things from my point of view. Determined to not back down, I articulate how I feel. "Dex, you know I value your opinion on most things, but your opinion of Rhys isn't justified. As quick and as crazy as things have happened, he really does care about me and I care about him." The gaze on my disgruntled boss remains alert and purposeful.

Dex leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk as he slowly sucks in a heavy breath. His green eyes wrinkle up and his voice becomes less confrontational. "I hope you know what you're doing, Clara?"

My reply is resolute. "I do, we both do." In Rhys's absence, I answer for him, too. In my heart, I think that is what he would want me to do.

"How can you be so sure?" Dex asks, his face so full of protective and genuine concern.

Smiling, my reply comes without much thought being put into it. "I can't be sure. We both can't be sure. I just know that what little I do know about Rhys, only makes me want to know more."

Dex nods, a crisp and understanding nod. "I just don't want to see you getting hurt." His reply is quietly said, almost reluctantly so. Dex isn't an emotional man, but he's always kept me under his protective wing. When my father died six years ago from an undiagnosed brain haemorrhage, my dear boss has taken me deeper beneath his nurturing wing. None of this conversation is about Dex being angry with me for striking up a relationship with Rhys Ryan. This conversation is about his need to tell me that he knows all about it and wants to be there for me every single step of the emotional way. He knows me, probably more than my own family do. I have always put my work first. Most of my time has been spent at work. As soon as I financially could, I left home. I have always been fiercely independent. I have always been the more career driven one in my family. My older brother is a builder. A really good builder: hardworking and great with bricks and mortar.

My younger brother is a plumber. A really good plumber: hardworking and great with pipes and stopcocks.

They are both far more family oriented than I ever have been. They were never in a hurry to leave home, whereas I, just couldn't wait. When dad suddenly died, my brothers just knew what to say and what to do for my mum, I didn't.

I couldn't find the right words and I didn't know how to make it better for her. So I worked. I worked harder than I ever had before. It was my coping mechanism. Mum knew that. My brothers knew that. Dex knew that. Which is why I think his role as my boss runs a lot deeper than it actually should. Which is something I am truly grateful for. He may not know it, but I really am glad that Dex is there for me; quietly hanging around the perimeter of my life. I know that if I ever needed him, he absolutely would be.

That gratefulness starts to pull on the corners of my relaxed mouth. That gratefulness sparkles in my teal eyes. My smile and my gaze falls upon the sweet and serious man that has put all of that gratefulness there. "Thank you." I say it with so much warmth and so much gratitude; with the warmest of affectionate regard and respect for Dex.

The faintest smile lifts one side of his mature face. "Are you sure you're not on drugs?" He gruffly jokes.

Laughing softly, I shake my head with loosely hung shoulders. "I can assure you, I'm not on drugs."

Dex smiles back at me, his expression gradually turning more serious the longer he looks at me. "So what now?" He suddenly asks, staring hard until I give him an answer.

"A trip to LA in two weeks time?" My brows rise, as do my hopeful shoulders. This is where I slip in my unexpected request for some holiday time.

Dex jerks his head back slightly, struck with sudden shock. "You're going to LA in two weeks time?"

Nodding, I nervously smile. "Yes."

"You're asking for some holiday time?"

I nod again, my nervous smile growing all the more wider. "Yes."

"You're going on a plane, to LA?"

Nodding harder still, I quickly answer. "Yes."

Throwing himself back against his leather chair, Dex declares with an over exaggerated frown. "You must be on bloody something, Clara. Firstly, you're taking annual leave. Secondly, you're going on a plane to America. What the hell is going on?" He looks serious but his voice is totally jesting with me.

Tilting my head with the shyest of smiles, I admit the sweet truth to Dex. "Rhys is what's going on." There, I've said it. Rhys Ryan is the reason why I am taking some rare time off. Rhys Ryan is the reason why I am getting on a plane to LA. Rhys Ryan is why I have taken total leave of my senses. He is the one who is responsible for it all.

The spontaneity.

The madness.

The unexpected.

The excitement.

It's all so wonderfully because of him.

"Okay." Dex's authoritative voice penetrates all of my many wandering thoughts. "Just please be careful, Clara."

I do something I have never done before, I get out of my chair and run around to where Dex is sat. "Thank you! Thank you!" I am cuddling Dex with all my might, squeezing him super tight within my very excited arms. "I'll work my butt off until I go, I promise."

Dex is laughing, aware that our very public display of affection is being seen by the entire office courtesy of his not very private glass environment. "Clara, you always work your butt off! Talking of which, give your interview to the sub editors, I want them to finish it by tomorrow morning."

Ending my zealous cuddle with a quick and grateful peck on his deeply creased cheek, I broadly grin back at him. "Yes, Boss!" Then I march out of his office with the happiest of feet. The happiest of smiles. The happiest of hearts.