She flushes with guilt. “I didn’t think Fuchs knew from the blog. You said he was listening in on my phone, that there were a million other ways for him to find out.”
I did say that. What a fucking idiot I must have looked like to her, when she’d known all along how Fuchs found out. “You thought wrong,” I say with deadly stillness.
“I did,” she says, her eyes wide and fixed. “And now you know everything.”
I laugh, because it’s too ridiculous. “No, I don’t. No, Callie, it’s time for you to come completely clean. Time for you to confess why you really left.”
I’m expecting her usual complaint about my work schedule. But she needs to finally admit that she let Fuchs’s tricks get inside her head. That she let his lies shake her faith in me.
That she didn’t believe in me or in us.
She cups her hand around her throat, her lips parting. There’s no sound but our breathing, somehow in tune even after all this.
“I was afraid.”
That catches us both up short. I never expected to hear that, and she looks like she never expected to say it.
“Of what?” I ask. “You know I’ll always protect you, no matter what—”
“I was afraid of you.” She smacks her fist against her thigh. I flinch at the thud of it. “Of how I felt about you, how dependent I was on you. I couldn’t need you that much, because… because what if you left? Where would I be?” She chokes back a sob. “Hell, where was I already?”
The blog told me where she’d been just before she left. Lonely, tortured, ready to fall apart.
I missed it all. My throat closes, the trapped air burning in my lungs. She was suffering, and no matter how much money I made for her, it wouldn’t make her happy.
“Callie.” My voice is stripped bare. “I’d never leave you.”
I can at least give her that assurance.
She covers her face with her hands, her rings and bracelets sparkling coldly. “Your life hardly changed at all when we got married.” Her hands fall away, revealing her wounded expression. “And mine was turned upside down. I couldn’t keep working—the second I mentioned our engagement, my boss was all over me to use you to get work for the firm. I couldn’t stay.”
“I thought you wanted to stop working.” I suddenly realize that we never really discussed it. She simply announced one day she was leaving her job and I was happy, because it meant I’d done my job right—that she felt free enough to stop working and do whatever she liked.
“No, I didn’t. I wanted to keep designing.”
My mind gropes for a solution, because I want to fix everything for her, even now. “You could start your own design firm.”
Her smile is sad. “I don’t want to manage accounts or run after clients or any of the boring business stuff. I’m not like you.”
That’s not true. She’s loved putting together this media company—I’ve seen the glow in her. “You had your charities,” I point out. She certainly spent a lot of time attending meetings and parties for those.
“I did spend a lot of time on charities. It felt amazing to give back.” She shrugs. “But everything I was doing was everything everyone else was doing. I was becoming a wife, like I was stamped out of an assembly line, instead of your partner, unique and needed only by you.”
I’ve always needed her and only her. But when I open my mouth to tell her, she stops me.
“In spite of all that, I still loved you so much. When I realized I wasn’t pregnant, I knew if I didn’t leave then, I’d never leave. That terrified me. So… I had to go.”
I rub my hand down my face. I’m suddenly exhausted, bone weary in a way I’ve never been before, not even when my dad died. “I never knew. You’re my wife. I love you more than anything, but I never had any idea you were so unhappy. I thought I’d provided you with everything.” I lift my hands, helpless. “I don’t know what else to give you. If all this isn’t enough…”
I have nothing more to give her. There was the money, the luxury, and finally, this past month, my time. The time that I should have been using to secure her future.
After all that, she couldn’t tell me her deepest secrets, her deepest needs. She trusted strangers on the internet more than me.
The pain of that rears up again, strikes me full in the belly. The pain buzzes through my ears so loud I can barely hear her.
“Oh, Logan.” She takes a step toward me and then another. “You don’t have to work harder to make me happy. You’re not anything like your dad. You don’t have to keep proving it. The only thing that is enough for me… is you.”
It’s everything that I should want to hear, but my pain is still loud. “You say that, but you didn’t think I would come tonight. Why would you ever think that?”
She stops, only two steps away from me. “You were so angry on the phone. You’re still angry.”
That forces me to look at my emotions, something I’ve always hated doing. But I thought loving Callie would be enough, and it clearly wasn’t. Yes, I’m angry, but not just at her.
“I was angry,” I say, my voice heavy. “I still am. At you, at Fuchs… and at myself.”
“Wait.” She blinks as she wraps one arm around her waist. “You’re angry at yourself?”
“You never felt that you could trust me with everything you wrote in your blog. You had to give it to strangers and not me. Which…” I take a deep breath, almost a gasp. “That was a hard thing to face. And yes, I’m pissed at myself for being too stupid to see what you needed, really needed, and give it to you. Fuchs didn’t split up our marriage; I did.”
There it is, the truth I never wanted to admit. I let my obsession with work drive her away. I wanted to give her everything… everything but my time. I thought the money was more important.
In my own way, I’m as much a failure as my father, too damn blind to see how my obsession was hurting the one I love.
Callie closes the space between us and takes my hands. Hers are small, soft, and warm. And steadying.
“No.” She squeezes my hands as she confesses her own guilt. “It was my fault too. I thought being independent meant being on my own, figuring out everything about our marriage on my own. When I started to fall into roles that I didn’t want to play, I ran away rather than fighting to change. Fighting for us.”
It’s like she’s parted the fog with those words, burning it away. “Does that mean…” I know what it means, I just can’t bring myself to believe it, not yet. “Does that mean you’re not giving up on our marriage? On me?”
Her eyes well with tears even as she smiles. “As long as you’re not giving up on me.”
I crush her to me, not caring if I ruin her dress in the process. “Never. I’m a fucking idiot sometimes—a lot of the time—but I will never give up on you. Never stop loving you.”
She tucks her head under my chin. “You’re not an idiot. I love your focus and obsession. I’m just greedy enough to want that focus on me.”
I want that focus on her too but… “I can’t just stop working.” I need that too. Not as much as I need her, but work comes right after her and oxygen on my list of needs.
“I don’t want you to,” she says. “I understand now why you need them.”
She means the Bastards. “They’re working on a mess back in the office right now.”
“And you want to be there helping them,” she says.
I do. “I’ll have to go back after this,” I tell her. “There’s still so much to do.”
“You wanted to keep working, you were angry with me, and yet you came,” she says, laying her head on my shoulder. “That’s so romantic.”
It doesn’t sound romantic, but if she says so, it must be.
“I realized I had to let go of work if I wanted to hold on to you. And I want to hold to you more than anything in this world.”
“You have me,” she says. “And I won’t leave again.”
Chapter 36
I can’t stop sh
aking my leg, and the website hasn’t even launched.
My desk hides it from the office, which is buzzing in the lead-up to the launch, but I’m still embarrassed. Embarrassed has pretty much been my default state since I woke up this morning.
The party went wonderfully once Logan arrived. Oh, and we had a huge fight/resolution about our entire marriage.
He was by my side all night, using his unparalleled charm on our guests, deflecting any uncomfortable questions about my blog and how it would affect the launch, and just being the perfect partner. There was a subtle tension in him, a vibration I could feel anytime I touched him, since he wanted to get back to the office and continue what he’d left behind there.
But he stayed with me in spite of it.
I understood his tension since I felt the same way. The party was great, but we had work to do. So once the other Bastards arrived, grabbing everyone’s attention like they always do, Logan and I slipped out to his office. I ended up falling asleep on his office couch as he worked through the night.
I woke up to a breakfast delivered by a local café, along with an outfit from Saks and someone to do my hair and makeup, all of it arranged by Logan. I don’t even think he slept last night.
He looks rested though as he sits next to me, as calm as I am agitated. I jiggle my knee some more, wishing I had tea instead of coffee this morning. Coffee makes me hyper, but I needed energy for today. Except not quite this much energy.
Logan sets his hand on my leg, right where my skirt ends. His hand is shockingly warm and sends sparks along my skin.
I’m so distracted my leg goes still, which was Logan’s intent all along.
“Everything will be fine,” he says, for me alone.
I want to wrap the heavy certainty in his voice around me like a blanket. But I can’t. “Everyone’s mad at me about the blog, and what if nobody visits the site? What if it’s terrible and I just don’t know?”
That’s my greatest fear—that the site will go live and no one will care. And everyone who worked so hard on this will be so disappointed.
“Greg has an explosive story that’s sure to go viral. We’ve already been featured in several mainstream newspapers and in Disrupt Dispatch. And the chatter about your blog guarantees even more eyes on it today—all press is good press.” Logan ticks those off with easy grace. “People will stop being mad about the blog—we’ll give them new stories to talk about—and the launch will go perfectly.”
“Just a few more minutes here,” our managing editor, Julia, announces. “And then we’re officially live.”
I suck in a hard breath. Suddenly I wish I’d never done this. What do I know about websites and journalism or any of this? What made me think I could take on Arne Fuchs?
Logan squeezes my knee, drawing my focus back to him. He thought I could take on Fuchs. And build a media empire from the ground up. I mean, I had to convince him at first, but once he was in, he was in.
I put my hand over his and force myself to breathe. No matter what happens now—if the site fails completely, if the rest of the tech world hates me forever—Logan will be by my side. I know this now.
“Ready to be a media mogul?” Logan asks me, his expression solemn and serious.
Oh God, he really thinks this is going to be a success. I hold tight to his hand, let his warmth and resolve sink into me.
And suddenly I do believe that everything will be fine. Great, even.
“Yep.” My confidence makes him smile.
“And we’re a go,” Julia says.
The big screen mounted on the far wall flashes and there it is: the site we’ve been working on for months.
My logo is there, big as life, and underneath, the headline for Greg and Lila’s exposé on TidBytes and Fuchs. I start to search for any faults, anything that needs to be corrected before the entire world sees.
“That’s definitely your logo,” Logan says.
I frown. “Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s warm and playful, just like you.”
Oh great, I’m blushing. “I’m not really.”
“You are, and it’s why you were perfect for the Bastards’ logo.” His gaze darkens. “And why you’re perfect for me.”
My heart lurches in the best way. “Thank you,” I say. “I love you.”
People begin to applaud, cheers breaking out. Happiness and relief fill the room. They’ve done it. I smile with all of them, because they’ve all worked so hard for this. Really, it’s not my triumph—it’s theirs. I was just lucky enough to bring them together.
Then the browser on the screen refreshes and everything comes to a stop.
“Wait,” I whisper, my eyes narrowing. “What happened?”
The browser screen is now blank. “Website can’t be found” the text reads.
My heart slows, then slams into high gear. My leg starts to shake again even though Logan is holding on to me.
“Fuck,” someone mutters.
The browser refreshes again. Again, there’s the error screen.
“Quick, everyone check from their own computers!” Julia orders.
An anxious stillness settles over the room as everyone types like mad.
“Well?”
“Nothing.”
“Still an error.”
“Won’t load for me.”
My mouth is hanging open, and I can’t seem to close it. I should be checking on my own laptop or my phone or doing something, but I’m numb with horror.
I thought everyone might hate it. I never thought they wouldn’t even get the chance to see the site.
“I don’t understand,” I say to Logan. “It’s already broken. How did that happen?”
“No,” Finn says behind me, grimly. “It’s a fucking DDoS attack. Of all the amateur, shitty things to pull…”
“Can you fix it?” I ask him. I’m no hacker, not like Finn. I’m not even sure what he’s talking about. This is deliberate?
He cracks his knuckles. “Sure, depending on how much Fuchs is throwing at it.”
“I can help,” January announces.
“Me too,” Mark says.
“I still don’t understand,” I say. “Fuchs is doing this?”
He’s already exposed my anonymous blog to the entire world. And now he’s trying to kill my website?
Not to mention he tried to ruin my marriage.
My jaw tightens until my teeth ache. If that jerk were here right now…
Well, I’d set Logan on him. No need for me to break a nail or a sweat on that asshole.
“He knows we’re publishing a story on him, and this is his sloppy effort to stop us,” Logan says. “Finn is right. This is amateur bullshit.”
“Can you fix it? I want the entire world to see that front-page story today.”
Finn snaps off a salute. “Your wish is our command.”
They all scramble off to find machines, Logan going with them. I wish he could stay here with me and keep me company as I freak out, but it’s more important that he help them now.
Julia comes up to my desk, looking less like a managing editor and more like a rattled employee. “I can’t believe this is happening the first day.” She’s dangerously pale, probably thinking the site is about to implode before it can even launch.
“Logan and the rest of them are going to fix it.” I nod toward them as they cut across the office floor. “Get our IT people to help them. We need everyone who can helping with this. And Finn’s in charge.”
Her nod is short but determined. “All right. This is a deliberate attack?”
I set my hand on her shoulder, the better to reassure her. “We’re running a story on the most secretive and powerful man in tech. This is going to happen again, but we’re not giving up. The world needs to know what he’s up to.”
Half an hour later, the site still isn’t up and I’ve worn a groove in the floor with my pacing. My words to Julia were brave, but with no progress so far, they’re starting to feel hol
low.
The celebrations have ended. Anyone who can help stop the DDoS attack is glued to their computer, and everyone else is waiting, anxious and tense, and staring at me every so often, wanting me to fix this.
I want to fix it too, but I’m as helpless as they are right now.
And then there’s a shout. A triumphant one.
My gaze snaps over to the knot of people where Logan is. His back is to me, so I have no idea if he’s the one who shouted.
Finn is next to him, typing like a madman, the keyboard chattering. If Finn’s still going, it must mean—
There’s another shout, and it’s definitely from Logan this time. His fist punches into the air, announcing his success to the entire room.
“We’re good?” Finn asks. “You stopped it?”
Logan pushes back from the workstation, arrogantly stretching his limbs. “Check the site.”
The big screen sputters back to life, reloading the site. It seems to take forever and a day, but my heart finds time to beat only the once.
And there it is again. Our site. In beautiful, bold color.
I can see now what Logan meant about the logo. I can see the hours I spent on it, the hope I put in to it, the determination.
The entire room breaks out in applause, turning toward Logan to acknowledge his success. But he’s shaking his head, refusing their praise.
I frown at him. What is he doing?
What he’s doing is finding me, his gaze locking with mine. His expression gentles, love and admiration softening the sharp line of his jaw, easing the too-raw beauty of his face.
He lifts a hand toward me. “It was all Callie. The idea for the site, bringing all of you together, the series on Fuchs… it’s all her. I’m so proud of her. And you should be too.”
The team turns, clapping even louder as they face me.
I let the applause soak into me, smiling as the entire team cheers me on. And I never look away from the man I love.
Chapter 37
It’s been a week, and Callie’s site is a success.
Unfinished Seductions Page 20