My office was very minimalist in design.

It was a large, rectangular room with three creme-painted walls and a wall-length window that overlooked the street behind it. My marble desk sat relatively close to the window, leaving a large space between it and the office's door. That space was filled with two chairs that clients or employees can sit on and a large circular rug.

The wall to my left had a bookshelf that was filled with magazine issues we've published over the years. I'd filled in the spaces with some pictures of my family. The wall to my right was Leo's area. There was a basket in the corner that held his toys, and a cushioned bench that fit his frame.

My desk was messy, as it usually was. My Mac was pushed to a corner, Dylan's face moving as he talked to me. A draft of the 'sports' issue was open in front of me, and I was looking through it to make sure I was happy with it. With my fingers wrapped around a pen, I circled a picture of Aren and drew an arrow to the margins to make a comment.

"Cody give your sister her Barbie back!" Dylan snapped, face turned to the side as he looked at his son.

"I want her to play catch with me!" The child yelled back, making Dylan raise an eyebrow at his attitude.

He was just like Leo– which meant that he was also just like me.

"Don't raise your voice at me," Dylan warned before whipping his head in the other direction. "Tony, why don't you play with him?"

"Because I'm in the middle of a game," The nine-year-old replied.

Dylan huffed when Céline's cries got louder, "Can't you just pause it?"

"Nope," He said, popping the p. Antoine recently discovered two things. One; he could play Battle Royale games on his iPad, and two; he could connect a game console controller to his iPad. The kid has been hooked to the device ever since, and he's taken the games more seriously than anything else in his life.

Dylan was proud of his dedication, hoping that he'd apply it to his hobbies in the future, but hated the fact that he sometimes ignored his schoolwork to play.

My brother ran a hand through his hair out of frustration and glanced back at Cody, "Can you please give Cece her toy back?"

"But then she won't play catch with me!" He retorted, stomping his foot on the ground in protest.

A muscle in Dylan's jaw ticked, "Give your sister her toy back and I'll play catch with you," He grit out, staring the middle child down.

"Now?"

Dylan leaned his head back, stared up at the ceiling, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm on a call with your tata right now, Cody. Can you wait until I'm done?"

A moment later, Céline stopped crying and Dylan's face relaxed before gazing back at his eldest child, "Tony, get off that thing and go play with your brother."

"I can't– I'm about to win," He whined. "Plus, you just said you'd play with him."

"Antoine, get the fuck off your iPad before I tell Rose to take it away from you," I threatened, raising my voice so he could hear me over the computer's speaker. I heard a groan followed by a thud, which was probably him throwing the controller onto the couch.

Dylan's jaw dropped as he stared at his eldest son, who I couldn't see through the screen, "Why'd you listen to her and not me– I'm literally your father."

"Tata scares me," Antoine said, and my brother shot him an incredulous look. "Come on, Coco, I'll teach you how to actually catch the ball."

The child cheered and I heard the sound of retreating footsteps before, "I want to play too!" Céline shouted, running after her two older brothers, the Barbie long forgotten.

Dylan's head snapped back to me, "How the fuck do you manage to resolve three problems with one sentence?" He asked, tone laced with disbelief.

"It's because I'm scary," I repeated Antoine's words with a small smile before glancing at Leo, who was trying to get comfortable on the bench. His head rested on a small pillow and his eyes were closed, but even I could tell he couldn't sleep.

My guess was it was because of the sound outside of my office, that was growing louder and louder by the passing minute.

"Scary my ass. I'm the one who has the power to take that thing away from him."

"Yet you never have." I chirped, my pen gliding across a page as I wrote down another note.

"Whatever," He grumbled. "You only have one child to take care of– that's easier than three."

I averted my gaze from the magazine to Leo, who was staring right at me, eyebrows furrowed and frown tugging at his lip. 

"Mama, I can't sleep," Leo whined, pushing his body up so he could sit. "Too much noise."

He could barely sleep last night– he even snuck into my room to inform me of the fact. I picked him up and placed him in the space beside me. Thirty minutes later, he woke me up again and told me that he was still awake. I tried reading him a bedtime story; sang him a lullaby; gave him some warm milk– nothing. I knew that if he couldn't sleep, I wouldn't be able to either, so I decided to put on a show for both of us to watch. He fell asleep an hour later, but that only left him with three hours of sleep.

And that was never enough for a three-year-old.

"Just try to come up with a story and imagine it, baby," I told him in a calm voice. "It'll help you fall asleep."

He nodded before lowering his head onto the pillow again. His eyes fluttered shut and he tugged the small blanket closer to his chin.

"Why's he trying to go to sleep?" Dylan asked from the computer.

"He couldn't sleep last night," I replied, flipping over to a new page. "Came into my room and everything."

"Well, now you know how papa felt," He replied before thinking about it. "You know how I felt, too. I let you sleep with me after you had a nightmare once, and you ended up kicking me in the fucking face."

I shrugged, "Not my–" A loud crash from the outside interrupted my sentence. Leo's eyes snapped open as he jolted, having been scared by the sudden sound. He glanced at the door before looking back at me, his bottom lip quivering.

"The fuck was that?" Dylan questioned, eyes wide.

I let out a frustrated breath, my nostrils flaring, and stood up. I removed the earbuds and pushed the chair back to stomp towards my office's door. I threw the door open and took in the scene in front of me. The hallway was packed with people working on the movie. Some were guarding props, others were looking through documents, but what really sent me over the edge, were the ones who were doing nothing but talking.

I glanced down the hallway to find a bunch of tripods on the floor, and two members of the crew were picking them up while the others stood there and watched.

"What the fuck is happening here?" I shouted, gaining the attention of everyone in the hallway. Multiple pairs of eyes were now pointed directly at my seething figure. I glanced at the group that had cups full of drinks and snacks in their hands. "Do you guys not have fucking jobs to do?"

"We– um–" Somebody stuttered, glancing at their friends for help.

"I know I do. I can't do shit if all I hear is your obnoxious laughter," I sneered, glaring at him. "I've also got a fucking child in here who can't sleep because you guys are incapable of staying quiet."

"Woah, miss, I think you should calm down a bit," A voice commented from the side. I whipped my head in his direction to find him staring at me with a lazy grin.

I scowled, "Excuse me?"

"I just think you're getting worked up over nothing," He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest.

Well, wasn't this guy feeling audacious?

"Yeah?" I asked, my voice taunting. I tilted my head to the side and gave him a once-over. Skinny jeans and tight v-neck t-shirt covered his laid back figure. The guy looked like a fucking prick. "I think that maybe you, and the rest of the crew, should shut the fuck up. You're not the only ones with jobs here."

The man blinked, his smile falling along with the cool vibe he was trying to emit, "Miss, you're being–"

"What's happening back there?" A voice interrupted. Suddenly, the people packed in the hallway parted like the red sea for His Majesty, Dean 'King' McLaughlin. His eyes were darting between members of his crew before they fell on me. They flickered between me and dickhead over there as he tried to understand what was happening. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, sir." The man said.

"No," I snapped, glaring at him before looking at the director. "Dean, I need to talk to you in my office."

Everybody's eyes were on me when I uttered his name. Some were wide with disbelief while others were confused. Dean looked between me and the prick before slowly nodding. I stepped to the side to let him enter, gave everyone a warning glare, and walked into my office, making sure to slam the door loudly to make a point.

I was pissed. I just wanted Leo to sleep while I talked to my brother and worked on the new issue of the magazine without any unnecessarily loud background noise.

Dean was standing awkwardly in the middle of the office. I gestured for him to take a seat while I went to my son. I brushed his hair back, "Try and go to sleep, mon cher. I'll make sure it's quiet for the next hour or two."

I kissed his head as he nodded, lowering his head back onto the pillow. I pulled the blanket over his small figure, "I love you."

"Love you too, mama," He murmured, trying to fall asleep.

I took a seat in my chair and found Dylan still on the call. He was on mute, his gaze fixed on someone behind the screen as he spoke to them. He glanced back at the screen when he saw me sit down in front of the screen.

"I've got to deal with something," I said, putting an earbud into my ear. "I'll call you back later."

"Sounds good," He replied with a nod. "Love you, Bee."

"I love you too, Dyl. Tell Rose I said hi." With another nod from him, I blew him a kiss through the screen before clicking the 'end call' button. I shut the laptop and glanced at Dean, who was staring at it with wide eyes.

"Dean," I sighed, running a hand through the roots of my hair. He gazed at me, giving me his undivided attention. "When I agreed to let you guys film in the building, I didn't expect this much noise. You've got like fifty people standing outside in the hallway doing nothing but talking."

He nodded, "I understand. We can't have them in the set since it needs to be quiet, so we asked them to stay in the hallway since they're on standby." He explained.

With my elbows on my desk, I rubbed my temples with two fingers and glanced at Leo who looked like he was just about to fall asleep, "I get that you guys need a crew for a movie, but most of them were just drinking some shit and eating. I've got a magazine to run and I can't exactly do that when all I hear is people laughing and tripods crashing over."

He drummed his fingers against the armrest on his chair and looked at the desk thoughtfully, "I'll try and reduce the number of people, but I can't really promise you anything since they're all pretty important. I'll make sure they're quiet though, I can promise you that."

I screwed my eyes shut and thought over the offer, "Fine," I relented before glancing back at Leo, who was definitely asleep right now. "But if I hear a peep out of them, I will kick you guys out– I'm not kidding."

He stiffened at the threat and nodded wildly, "Don't worry, I'll get it under control."

"Okay," I breathed out, picking up my pen to continue making notes. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," He said. I gave him a final glance before looking down at the magazine that held Isaac's picture. The idiot was known as the goofball of the trio, and he's tried to reaffirm the title through this picture. He had a football on his head and was trying to balance it. His eyes were looking up at it and his tongue was poking out in concentration.

I circled an area on his shirt that didn't seem like it was color corrected and made a note of it in the margin. Just as I wrote the note, Dean stood up from the seat, "I'm sorry about the inconvenience, Amber. I'll try my best to fix it."

I nodded, looking up at him through my lashes, "Thanks; I appreciate it." I watched as he gave me a smile before turning around to walk out the door, making sure to gently close it as to not waking Leo up.

•••

"Merci," I thanked the security guard as he scanned his pass to let Leo and I out through the automatic gates. He smiled and nodded in response. With his hand in mine, I guided Leo out the building and down the steps before we stopped on the pavement. I crouched down in front of him and pulled the hood of his thick sweater over his head.

He shook his head and brought his hands up to bring the hood back down, "Non, mama. I'm not cold."

I stared him down, but being the stubborn child he was, he didn't pull it up. My glare intensified and I raised a brow, and after a few seconds of staring back at me, his resolve crumbled and he put it back up.

"As-tu faim, mon cher?" I asked, already knowing the answer as I adjusted his hoodie before standing up. "Veux-tu manger? [Are you hungry, darling? Do you want to eat?]

His face lit up at the mention of food and he jumped excitedly, "Oui!"

I smiled at him and outstretched two fingers so he could wrap his hand around them, "Great! Alors, allons-y." I said, cocking my head towards the gate by the traffic barriers. [Great! Let's go, then.]

"Mama, wait!" He exclaimed making me stop. He pointed behind me, "Someone's running here."

I spun around on the heel of my boots and wasn't surprised to find Dean making his way towards us. He had a coat on, given it was pretty cold today, and held a rolled-up thick document in his right hand. He smiled once he caught my eye and slowed down to a jog before stopping in front of us.

He paused for a second, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, "I'm sorry; I'm not used to the cold," He coughed out as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I just wanted to tell you that we were able to work something out. Some of the crew in there were just assistants, so they won't be in the hallway anymore. Everyone else has been told to be quiet or else we risk losing the location, and nobody wants that."

I nodded shortly, "Thank you. I'm sorry if it makes filming harder, but I've got a magazine to run and I can't exactly do that if–"

He cut me off with a shake of the head and put two hands up as he waved them in a 'no' motion, "Don't worry about it. We're grateful you let us film inside the building; this is the least we could do."

Leo tugged on my hand, "Mama, let's go!" He said, trying to walk away but I tightened my grip on him and pulled him back towards me. I gave him a pointed look and he pouted before quieting down.

Dean glanced down at the child, the corner of his lip tugging up into a faint smile before he looked back at me, "You're going somewhere?"

I readjusted the purse on my shoulder, "It's my lunch break." I informed him. I was starving– I didn't have breakfast today since I was preoccupied with Leo and his cereal. Not to mention that I managed to sleep through my alarms– yes, alarms as in more than one– once again. "We're going to a bistro around the corner."

"Do you want to come?" My son voiced out, looking up at the man. I refrained from screwing my eyes shut. Of course, I taught my son how to be polite, but I never thought that it would come back to bite me in the ass.

Did the universe hate me?

Dean was surprised at the invitation, and it took him a second to process the question before glancing back at me, "If your mother allows it, then sure."

Yes, put me in a tight spot, please. Despite how much I wanted to, I knew I couldn't say no, because Leo would ask questions I wouldn't know how to answer. It would also negate everything I've tried to teach him these past three years.

I poked my cheek with my tongue, "Sure," I grit out through a forced smile. "Of course he can."

The director perked up at my agreement, and a genuine smile graced his lips. He patted his coat's pocket to make sure he had his things, and when he was sure, he gestured towards the gate with an open palm. I nodded and turned around to walk towards the bistro, trying my best not to let out a frustrated scream or a groan.

Dean fell into step beside me, Leo between both of us. He seemed excited to have the man join us for lunch, and I could wholeheartedly say that that made one of us. Leo introduced himself and started babbling about his favorite things in life. He even asked Dean if he had any favorite toys that he played with, and he decided to humor him by saying that he had a red truck he enjoyed playing with when he was a kid.

I, on the other hand, remained silent as I listened to the two boys talk. I wasn't happy with this arrangement– nope, far from it, really. Dean was here to work, not to hang out with me and my kid. I also didn't want to exchange small talk with the guy– wasn't the office enough for that? I couldn't go anywhere without him popping out of nowhere to tell me something.

We reached the bistro seven minutes later. Dean opened the door for us, and I let Leo in first before I stepped in behind him. The place was heated, so once I led the two to an empty table, I picked Leo up and placed him on a chair.

"Arms up," I said, and he complied. I pulled his hoodie off his small figure and adjusted his shirt that rode up with the action. I folded the hoodie in two and draped it behind his chair. I went to take a seat beside him, thanking Dean as he pulled out the chair for me.

I flagged a waitress down and signaled for the menu while Dean sat on the chair opposite me. She quickly made her way towards us and placed two thin menus in front of us before giving Leo a kid's menu with two crayons.

Since Leo could barely reach the table, I picked him up and placed him on my right thigh. I slid the paper and crayons in front of him, and he picked them up excitedly. I read through the kid's menu, trying to find a suitable option for him.

"Veux-tu le poulet ou les pâtes?" I asked. [Do you want the chicken or pasta?]

He didn't hesitate as he replied with, "Poulet." [Chicken.]

The chicken was just nuggets, and the pasta was a small portion of penne that kids could easily eat. That meant that he wouldn't make his clothes dirty since it was less messy to eat. That also meant that there was less laundry for me to do.

I kissed the top of his head and glanced at Dean, who was reading through the menu with concentration I've only seen him use when we studied together. I opened my menu and looked through the selection of sandwiches, already knowing which one I was going to choose.

The waitress that gave us our menus came back five minutes later, hands holding a notepad and a pen, "Êtes-vous prêt à commander?" She asked, glancing at us. I already knew her given Leo and I came here often during my lunch breaks, so she spoke French to us, opposed to the English she normally spoke with the tourists. [Are you ready to order?]

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at the French, but at the sight of the pen in her hand, he knew she was here to take our order. He gestured for me to start by cocking his chin towards me.

"Une Chicken Club," I told her before looking down at my child. "Et les nuggets pour lui." [One Chicken Club Sandwich and nuggets for him.]

She wrote down the order before glancing at Dean who looked down at his menu, "The Chicken Cordon Blue, for me, please." He said with a smile and she nodded, copying down his order. I gave her my menu and Dean followed suit. She took them, repeated our order, and promised they'd be out within the next fifteen minutes.

The table drifted into silence after she left. I was watching Leo draw a house with people around it. He drew a stick for the body and a circle for the head before adding a triangle as a dress. Then, he added messy scribbles around the head as hair. 

Dean cleared his throat, making me avert my gaze from the masterpiece to him. He was sitting up straight, but I felt the way his legs were bouncing beneath the table.

He gave me a small smile, "So, how have you been?"

I pulled a shoulder up to my head in a shrug, "I'm good," I told him, and when his face fell at my very curt answer, I decided to continue. "Work has been hectic, but other than that, everything is fine."

I was coldhearted, not heartless.

His smile widened at my response, "When did you get promoted– I know that working there has been your lifelong dream."

"A year and a half ago," I replied, wrapping an arm around Leo to pull him onto my lap. He was very close to falling off.

He nodded and brought a hand up to drum his fingers against the table, "That's great. Congratulations." He grinned.

"Thanks," I coughed. I needed to steer this conversation as far away from me as possible. "What's your new movie about?"

He blinked, surprised that I was actually taking interest in something to do with him, "Uh, it's about this woman who is pursuing legal action against her workplace for," He paused and glanced at Leo. "Harassment and unequal pay even though everyone in her life told her that she wouldn't get any results."

I raised my eyebrows, "Sounds interesting."

He smiled at the compliment, his cheeks flushing pink, "Thanks. It's actually based on a true story. The woman– Susie Harlow– is actually working with me to help make it as accurate as possible."

"Des nuggets pour le petit garçon," The waitress chirped, placing a plate of nuggets, fries, and carrot and celery sticks in front of me. At the sight of the food, Leo went to immediately dig in, but I stopped him. [Nuggets for the kid.]

"Attends," I warned, pushing the plate away from him. I twisted around to open my purse. I dug through it until I found the packet of wet wipes. I held his hands in mine and wiped them down. Then, I moved the paper and crayons away from him. "Veux-tu de ketchup?" [Wait. Do you want ketchup?]

Leo nodded his curls bouncing with the action. I leaned over to grab the ketchup bottle, uncapped it, and squeezed a small amount onto the edge of the plate, away from the vegetables.

"Merci, mama!" He said as I pulled the plated towards him.

"Bon appetite, mon cher."

I averted my gaze away from the three-year-old and to Dean, who was watching our exchange attentively.

"You good?" I questioned, balling up the wipe to place it away from us.

"What?" He asked, breaking out of his reverie before glancing at me. "Oh– yeah. I just– how old is Leo?"

I smoothed down my baby's hair, "Three."

"Oh," He replied, scratching his stubble. "I never knew you had a baby."

I kissed my teeth, "How could you when you never kept in touch?" The words slipped out of my mouth, but I didn't regret them. He couldn't expect to know everything about me when he was the one who never texted me back.

Dean's face went red with embarrassment, "About that–"

"There's nothing to talk about," I interrupted, averting my gaze from his very apologetic expression.

"No, Amber, I'm–" He started again, only to be cut off by the waitress.

"Cordon Blue for you, monsieur," She said, placing the dish in front of you. "Et le sandwiche pour vous, madame."

"Merci beaucoup," I smiled up at her and she nodded before walking away. Moving the plate away from Leo, who was on my lap, I picked up one of the fries and tossed it into my mouth.

"Amber–"

"Can you just eat your meal, please?" I cut him off with a hard look. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his lips pressing down into a thin line before he nodded slowly.

I just wanted to enjoy lunch with my son. I didn't want him to apologize because I brought the fucking topic up. I didn't think it would be sincere then. He just left and the appeared in my life nine years later. He didn't try to apologize when he first saw me, or the second time– no. Instead, he asked for a favor that I fulfilled out of the kindness of my own heart, and look where that got me.

I wanted an unprompted apology.

That was the least he could do, not ask his crew to remain silent like they should have been.

•••

– 12/07/20

Ooops.

Yall Team Dean or against him?