The Guilt That Lies Within

Chapter Seven

"Excuse me," I timidly said, "is, Zachary Stefano here?"

The young woman behind the desk turned so she was facing me and smiled, "yes he is. Do you have an appointment?"

I shook my head.

"Well then, I'm sorry ma'am, there is nothing I can-"

"Can you just tell him, Spencer is here to see him," I abruptly said.

The woman sighed, before she sat down, pressing a button on her desk. I internally kicked myself for interrupting her. She was just trying to do her job and now she had some revolting bitch telling her what to do. I couldn't take my eyes off of her figure. The longer I stared at her, the more her beauty hit me; she was a truly stunning woman. Her poker straight midnight hair outlined her olive skin and made her coffee brown eyes shimmer. Jealousy struck me instantly. He probably liked skinny brunettes that were always dolled up in makeup and heals. He would never want someone as ugly and worthless as me. The words Carter often spoke to me swirled through my mind like a Kansas tornado. Bitch. Ugly. Fat. Coward. Weak. I felt my eyes begin to tear up. I forcefully closed my eyes, pushing the tears back, as my eyes stung and my ears rang; this was a feeling I was extremely used to. The sound of the woman's voice telling me I could go to his office, the third door on the right, broke me out of my hazed state. I nodded my head, while rubbing my eyes, as I walked down the narrow, washed-out, hallway. My hand sluggishly reached out and grabbed the door handle. With force, I exhaled and straightened my shoulders; lifting my head tall, while I pushed the door open.

Zachary stood in front of me, leaning against his desk, with his arms crossed over his strapping chest. A black tie fell aimlessly against the charcoal fabric of his dress shirt that gripped his muscles for dear life. I felt his ocean blue eyes stare into my soul; subconsciously, I bit my lip as I tugged at the hem of my baggy sweatshirt. My eyes travelled up to his face. I felt my stomach drop at the sight. Blood continued to drip from his nose and a bruises had already began forming on the right side of his face. His silk hair was mangled as if he'd been pulling at it numerous times before. Landon really did 'take care of it'. I couldn't believe that he had done this again; I thought we left this life behind us, in Ottawa. My eyes scanned his figure over one finale time. Someone as attractive as that could never like someone like me. He deserved someone like the receptionist. Someone that was in his social group. I had to stop thinking about this; I had to be stronger.

I cleared my throat, "hello."

"Hello," his voice was deep, with a sweet mix of American and a European country; Portugal or Italian maybe?

"I don't know why you were watching me, or how you even know me, for that fact," I paused, my gaze not leaving his, "but I came to apologize for Landon's behavior.'

He looked shocked by what I had just said, "oh, there is no need for an apology."

"I believe there is-," I was cut off by his cell phone vibrating on his desk.

He reached behind him, frowning at the screen before he clicked the silver button on the side.

"You can get that if it's important," I said, with the sudden realization he was still at work.

"It's not important," he instantly replied, "I'm sorry, what were you saying."

"I was saying that I must apologize for Landon's behavior. However, I do believe you owe me an explanation. How do you know-," the voice of the receptionist rang through the intercom, which cut me off yet again.

"Dr. Stefano, Sophia Taylor is on line two. She said it's urgent."

"Cazzo merda," he uttered under his breath, solidifying the fact that he was, indeed, Italian. He rubbed his battered face as he turned to the phone and pushed the button, "thank you, Mia."

Who was Sophia Taylor? My mind was soon swarmed with questions. I bet she was a beautiful woman; she probably loved him, I mean who wouldn't, he was perfect. I didn't even know why I was there anymore. I had to leave. Filthy. Damaged. Worthless. I felt my heart pound harder and harder against its cage. My fingers snaked their way up to the pendent hanging from my neck; they clung to the piece of silver like a newborn to its mother. It felt as if everything was in slow motion. Zachary was running his finger through his velvet hair, the green light was flickering on the intercom and I was standing stiff as a board, clinging to my chain. I hadn't noticed that I began walking towards the door, until his tender hand gripped around my forearm; this shook me out of my trance.

"I-I'm sorry, I'll leave you to your work," I stuttered, tugging my arm away from his warm grasp.

"You're right," he said following me out the door, "I do owe you an explanation. Why don't we go to lunch tomorrow? I'll explain everything."

I had to know why he hired someone to follow me, "okay."

"Carisma at 12:30," he flashed me an award winning smile, "I'll see you there."

Needless to say, Landon was going to be pissed.

•••

"Here you go," Landon said as he passed me the Chinese takeout box.

I currently sat at the dining table across from Landon. While I was out he ordered Chinese food, knowing it was my favourite food, in attempts to make sure I didn't yell at him again.

"How are your knuckles," I asked after a moment of silence.

He formed a fist with his right hand before flexing it straight, "it's better."

"Good, I'm glad."

Landon dramatically dropped his fork while moving his chair closer to mine, "I'm so sorry Spence. I know I was wrong, I promised you I'd never do that again and I did. I was just trying to protect you. After what happened... I just- I couldn't sit and watch something like that happen again."

I sighed, "I know you were just looking out for me, I appreciate that. But you can't just do what you think is right for me. We need to talk about it, understand?"

"Yeah, I understand. So do you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you Lan," I reached over and punched his arm, "you just need to use your head next time, dumbass."

His dimples showed themselves on his rosy cheeks, "hey! Who are you calling a dumbass? I'm the s-m-a-r-tiest guy around."

I chuckled, while rolling my eyes, as I continued eating.

•••

What would you wear when you're going to lunch with a guy who hired someone to stalk you? This had been my current dilemma for the past hour. I had tried on everything from a cocktail dress, to jeans with a band tee-shit, to a romper. I didn't want to come across as salacious, nor did I want to look like a soccer mom. I was going to be late if I didn't make up my mind soon. At first this may have seemed like an easy decision, but after clearing out my whole closet, I realized it was harder than I originally thought. Finally my eyes settled on a floral spring dress folded in the corner; the white base caused the sapphire orchids to visually explode off of the dress. I giggled as I saw, what Landon calls, my Jesus sandals and put them on after I placed my hair in a messy bun. Well, here goes nothing, I thought.