Arrogant Playboy

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Arrogant Playboy Page 18

by Wolf, Alex


  “I’ll let Decker know. You can have your pick of what you want to do.”

  “And who.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, Decker’s gonna love your ass working there.”

  “He likes money, doesn’t he?”

  “It’s the only reason any of us still have jobs.” I lean back and take a sip from a tallboy of Budweiser.

  “So… Taking Pais to the wedding, huh?”

  “Yeah.” My heartrate spikes just thinking about her. I didn’t want to leave her side to come out here on this guys’ golf day or whatever the fuck they called it.

  “It’s like old times. It’s nice.” He stares ahead, like he’s looking a hundred miles away.

  “I don’t know if it’ll ever be like it was, but it feels like it might be.”

  “Yeah, haven’t seen you this happy in a while.”

  About the time he says it, we pull up to Wells’ clubhouse.

  What in the fucking motherfuck?

  Decker gets out and shakes hands with Weston Hunter and his other three main partners. One is his brother and two are his good friends from college, I think.

  Decker glances back at me and glares, as if he’s giving me some kind of non-verbal warning to play nice. To hell with that. That guy stole from me. Stole my respect, which is worse than stealing money.

  I immediately think about Pais, just to calm myself down. In two hours, I’ll be with her, and all will be well. We can talk about the wedding and everything we’re going to do and wear and all that girly-ass shit that’s a million times better than staring at Weston Hunter’s face.

  They’re right in front of the clubhouse, and all my stuff is inside, so I have to walk right by them.

  Penn smiles next to me, like he can already feel the tension in the air. Wells seems oblivious along with Dad, and Rick is probably looking for a piece of ass already because he’s nowhere to be seen.

  “Donavan.” Weston holds his hand out as I walk up.

  Goddamn it.

  I shake it and resist the urge to crush his fingers. “Weston.” I start to walk off, but he kind of sidesteps into my path to start up more conversation.

  “Great job with the crim law department, you’re killing it.”

  Before I can think, I say, “Great job with the photos. You’re killing it at taking all the credit.”

  He smirks, and I want to punch him in his smug face, but at the same time he holds up his hands. “Whoa, sorry. Can’t control what they print in magazines.”

  He’s so full of shit.

  “Goddamn it,” mumbles Decker. At the same time his stare burns holes in the side of my head.

  Just bite your tongue and let it go.

  I shrug. “Sorry. Missed a birdie putt on eighteen and I’m still bitter. Good to see you guys.” I walk off before I can say anything else.

  But fuck that guy, fuck his brother, and those other two bitches. Fuck Decker for putting that asshole’s name on our building. I could rip the walls of this place down right now.

  “Holy shit.” Penn bounces into the clubhouse behind me, then runs to catch up as I power walk toward the lockers.

  “What?”

  “That was some serious restraint. Thought for sure we were going to get a little show.”

  “Not worth it.”

  “Yeah, I mean, fuck, he’d never fire you. Even if you put his ass in the hospital. You’re worth too much money to him.”

  I rifle through my locker for my wallet and shit and don’t respond.

  “It’s one of the reasons I quit working at Cooper. Felt myself focusing on money so much I didn’t realize how shitty I was treating people, just, the decisions you make when profit is the only variable that matters in the equation.”

  I straighten up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Won’t be like that here. You’ll make a difference, if that’s what you’re after. We have nonprofits and foundations you can work with. I have a specific group that works back and forth with the Innocence Project. It doesn’t have to be about money, even if that cock maggot’s name is on the building.”

  Decker walks in behind us, followed by Dex and Wells. Deacon and Dad must’ve run off somewhere. Thank God the assholes from Dallas didn’t follow them in here.

  “I swear to God, Donavan.”

  I hold up a hand. “Just don’t. I’m having a decent day, despite all that shit, and I was nice.”

  “Well, they’re coming to the wedding, and I swear if you get drunk and assault someone…”

  “I’m not going to assault someone at your wedding, fuck.”

  “It might be fun,” says Wells.

  Decker shoots him a death glare.

  “Stop treating me like a child, Decker. I know how to behave.”

  “I’m just saying, I don’t want any problems. Tate’s already…”

  My head’s about to explode. He’s always been this way. Selectively picks out whatever facts he wants. Like we’re not all brothers and basically the same. Like he doesn’t have a fucking temper? Dexter headbutted some jackass in a bar a few months ago. Deacon is no stranger to blowing up and he’s fucking huge. I heard him and Decker almost got into a fight at the office in front of employees.

  But now, he wants to act all mature and like I’m irresponsible.

  I shoulder past him. “I just want to leave. Is that okay with you?”

  “You say you don’t want to be treated like a baby, then you act like one.”

  I spin around, ready to unleash hell, but instead I keep my voice calm and collected. Just because I know he hates it even more when I don’t blow up on him. “Did you even have my back out there? Or did you just get on your knees for Weston after I walked off?”

  He steps up in my face, and Dexter moves to grab him by the arms.

  “You did, didn’t you?” I smirk. “You let him take all the credit from all of our hard work because you’re too big of a pussy to put your foot down.”

  “Oh, now it’s ‘our’ hard work, Donavan? You act like you’re the only one who does shit at the firm. I gave you a managerial role.”

  “Yeah, a role that doesn’t mean dick. It’s just a title, that’s it. Titles are worthless if the authority doesn’t come with them. Your future wife has more of a say over firm business than I do.”

  He grits his teeth. “Leave her out of this.”

  I shake my head. I’m so tired of him doing this and I just want to go. I just want to be with Paisley right now and forget any of this ever happened. He doesn’t have my back. He never did. None of them did. It’s not worth all this anger and frustration sitting on my chest like a ten-ton elephant non-stop. I’m not living with it anymore. I have what I want.

  I have Paisley.

  “You know what? I’m sorry.”

  Everyone’s eyes widen.

  “You what?”

  “This day, all this shit, Dad being in town. It’s not about me. Sorry. Just, congrats man, I’m happy for you. Enjoy your wedding.” I pat him on the arm and walk past.

  It’s not worth it, arguing with him. He’ll never see me as anything but a nuisance, just like when we were kids and I’d follow him around wanting to be just like him. I’m done trying to impress these assholes.

  Paisley

  Holy shit.

  This is happening. The guilt has been slowly building and the crescendo is coming way before it’s supposed to.

  My fingers tap on the steering wheel as I turn down Dad’s street. The rehearsal dinner is tonight, and I have a million things I need to talk to him about. Donavan is meeting me here in a bit and Dad has no idea. Why do I do these things to myself?

  I know the answer to my question, yet I still ask myself over and over as I pull into the driveway.

  I’m self-sabotaging. Punishing myself by forcing us all in a room together.

  Plus, I just need my Dad. I want him to comfort me if I crack, because I feel it coming on, and I can’t afford for it to happen at the wedding. I need to tell Dad everything I’m thinking, g
o with Donavan, have a great time, then reassess after the wedding. As soon as the wedding is over and Tate and Decker are a thousand miles away, I’ll figure everything out. Surely, I can have fun at a big romantic wedding for a few days, before I have to act like an adult and do the mature thing.

  I inhale a deep breath and head toward the door.

  Dad opens it before I can knock. “Hey, kiddo.”

  “Hey.” I can’t even look up at him.

  He eyes me up and down, then opens the door and nods at the couch. “I know that look. C’mon.”

  I walk slowly, like a prisoner on death row, all the way to the couch, biting back the shame in my chest. Once I’m seated, I say, “How’s your work coming along?”

  Dad sits in his recliner and stares. He’s trying not to smile, which tells me he’s onto something, but he wants to be polite and can see I’m conflicted. “No, let’s talk about—”

  “No, you first, Dad. Please. I need some good news before…” My words trail off.

  “I think I’m onto something, Pais. I’ve been working non-stop the last week, all these ideas coming to me all at once.” He looks like he wants to bounce out of his chair, but he’s restraining his reaction remarkably well.

  “That’s… That’s great, Dad.” I nod.

  “Pais, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

  God, why is this so hard? I can deal with billionaires on Wall Street, but I can’t even form words right now. I need to just tell him everything that’s going on with me and Donavan and get it all out there.

  “Dad, I…me and...” Just as I start to spill everything, I hear a car door in the driveway. I head toward the window and sure enough, it’s him. “Shit. Donavan’s early.”

  Dad turns to me. “Donavan’s here, again?”

  I nod and run over to Dad. “I’m sorry. I was about to tell you everything, but he showed up early. Please, I need something from you. Promise me.”

  Dad must notice the panic in my face. I’m practically trembling. He’s caught right in the middle and I can see he’s warring between going outside for a confrontation and consoling me.

  “What is it you want me to do?”

  I can’t even look at him when I say it. “Please, just forgive him. Even if you don’t want to, will you do it for me? Please?”

  Dad’s jaw sets and he glares at the door, then back at me. Finally, his face softens, just as I hear Donavan coming up the steps. “Okay.” He nods. “Okay, I will.”

  I launch into him and wrap my arms around him. “Thank you. I’ll tell you everything when I get a chance. I promise.”

  He smooths his hand down the back of my hair and kisses the top of my head. “Whatever you want, sweetie. I’ve got your back, a hundred percent.”

  “Thank you.” I walk to the window, surprised Donavan hasn’t knocked yet. I sneak a peek at him and he’s a few feet away from the door.

  He looks around, then takes a deep breath, like he’s working up the courage to announce his presence.

  My stomach is a pretzel right now, and yet somehow, him just being around sets me at ease at the same time. It’s so frustrating. I can’t even explain the emotions this man makes me feel.

  He finally knocks. I answer.

  His eyes light up the second he sees me.

  “Hi.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Hi.”

  I open the door. “Come in.”

  He hesitates. “You sure?”

  “Come on in, it’s fine,” Dad hollers from his recliner.

  Donavan’s eyes widen and he shrugs. “Umm, okay.”

  “Just have a seat,” says Dad.

  I can’t thank Dad enough in my mind for taking charge right now because I’m a hot mess.

  We walk over to the couch together and sit down. There’s an awkward silence for a few seconds, though it feels like it’s hours.

  “Do you love my daughter?” Dad stares right at Donavan.

  He damn near squirms on the couch. I never thought I’d see the day, Donavan Collins looking nervous, but it’s happening.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then the past is the past, isn’t it?”

  Donavan glances back and forth at both of us like is this really happening right now? Finally, he nods. “Yeah. I feel like I should say something, though.”

  Oh God, please don’t let him go into humble mode right now, it might destroy me.

  Donavan says, “I’m sorry. You’ll never know how sorry I am. What I did to your daughter and your family…it was the biggest mistake of my life.”

  Shit. Shit. Feelings. Guilt.

  Dad glances over at me, then back to Donavan. “We all make mistakes, son. I’m sure it won’t be the last time someone in this family screws up.”

  My eyes start to burn when he refers to Donavan as family once again. I have to hold it together, but I don’t know if I can.

  Donavan nods, unable to say anything, but he exhales the loudest sigh of relief I’ve ever heard. He stands up and Dad does the same, and I have no idea what I’m even doing right now. I feel like I’m in quicksand. He wraps Donavan in a hug, but his eyes are fixed on mine the entire time.

  Once they break free of their little moment, Donavan spins around to face me and he looks happier than I’ve ever seen him look. Despite wanting to run to my room and never come out, I put on my best game face and smile back at him.

  “You ready to meet my family?”

  Shit.

  I’ve been so caught up in all this I totally forgot I’m about to meet his family for the first time too. Well, his parents anyway.

  I nod.

  Dad follows us to the door and shakes Donavan’s hand again. “It’s good to have you back. Take care of my little girl.”

  “I will, sir. I promise.”

  I need a drink, or ten.

  Paisley

  The wedding is at the Chicago Yacht Club and the drive over was mostly silent. I said a few words, but it was mostly me sitting there, stewing about this whole situation, while Donavan looked happier than I’ve ever seen him, like the weight of seven years lifted off his shoulders.

  In a weird way, I resent him almost, for the way he feels right now. All I want is that. I want to enjoy this and be happy and meet his family, but I just can’t. I wish I could just turn my brain off and enjoy this.

  Donavan’s hand slips into mine as we walk up, and I pray he can’t feel how clammy my palms are. The wedding is going to be incredible. Spectacularly beautiful. They’re already setting up a red carpet outside and people rush around, checking phones and tablets.

  “You ready?”

  My gaze angles up to Donavan. “For?”

  “To meet them? Everything okay with you? You’re really quiet.”

  Shit, his family. I keep forgetting. “Yeah, just really nervous.”

  “Don’t be. Mom and Dad will love you. I promise.”

  We’ll see.

  We make it inside and there are three women with headsets talking to Tate. She looks like she wants to pull her hair out already. I can’t blame her.

  “Donnie!” A woman who must be Mrs. Collins damn near tackles Donavan, and as quickly as she has him wrapped up, she lets go and takes me by the hands. “You must be the infamous Paisley.”

  I nod, because I have no idea what to say. She’s grinning from ear-to-ear and so not what I expected.

  “You just…” She can’t stop gushing, then wraps me up in a giant hug.

  I hug her back because despite everything going on with me right now, it just feels really good, and I immediately miss my mom. I haven’t felt this type of comfort in forever, after walling myself off after Mom died.

  “Gorgeous!” She turns to Donavan. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

  “Yeah, Mom. She is. Try not to suffocate her, okay?”

  She let’s go. “Sorry. Sorry. Wow.” She smiles so big at Donavan. “It was Thanksgiving, wasn’t it?”

  “Mom, we don’t talk about Thanksgiving.”

 
“What happened at Thanksgiving?” I say, grinning at Donavan.

  “See what you did, Mother?”

  “Oh, whatever.” She waves him off with a hand. “Dex and Abigail made up and now they’re together. It’s water under the bridge. Anyway, Paisley, I gave Donavan a hard time about not keeping a woman happy.”

  “Jesus, here we go.”

  She turns and points a finger in his face. “What did I tell you about your language?”

  I can’t help but laugh. I love her already.

  The other brothers see us and start in our direction.

  “Can’t believe Mom didn’t tackle her to the ground,” says Deacon as he walks up.

  She wheels around on him. “Can’t believe you haven’t made me a grandbaby yet. Did you get your sperm tested like I told you?”

  Deacon’s face turns bright pink and he mouths, “Fuck,” where she can’t hear it.

  Decker and Dexter are rolling. She begins to say something, and an older, stately man walks up. He has to be their father. He looks just how I picture Donavan when he’s about sixty.

  “Honey, will you ever let the girls breathe?” He holds out a hand. “David Collins.”

  I shake it. “Paisley Williams, nice to meet you, sir.” I glance around. “The place is beautiful.”

  “Hell yeah it is, c’mon.” Tate grabs me by the arm.

  I don’t even know where she came from, but I’m happy to have the attention off me. She pulls me over to a mimosa bar, thank God, and Quinn, Abigail, Tate’s childhood friend Alexis, and Jenny follow us over there.

  A bartender mixes the champagne and orange juice in flutes for us. The three women with headsets start toward us.

  Tate immediately holds up a palm at them. “Five minutes, fuck.”

  I try my best not to laugh, but I can so relate to Tate right now. This would not be my thing either, especially with other people in charge bossing me around telling me what to do.

  She turns to me, takes a deep breath, and says, “Glad you could make it. And you survived being accosted.”

  I glance around at all of them. “You guys all went through that too?”

  They all nod.

 

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