Hard to Resist

by Lauren Landish

  I don’t know what to say to convince her otherwise. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t try to convince her otherwise. But what we had felt so good. So right. It felt real.

  The sound of a car’s horn from outside the garage wakes me back to the present. I finally turn the car on and drive home.

  A long time passes with no sound, and I don’t even realize it. I debate on turning up the volume, but I don’t want to. I wouldn’t listen to it anyway.

  When I walk inside, my house feels colder and emptier than usual as the keys clank against the table.

  Charlotte’s dry cleaning is on the entry table. It’s there to greet me.

  I walk past it and straight to my bedroom.

  I lay on the bed fully clothed and look at the ceiling. My chest hurts. My body hurts. I can hardly stand the pain. The cell phone’s right there. I know where she lives. I need her in this moment. I know she’s what I need.

  I pick up my phone to call her, but can’t press send. It’s my fault he did that to her, and I can’t take it back. There’s no fix to this. I deserve this pain. I knew I was no good for her.

  I close my eyes, hating that my actions caused her pain. That I ruined her.

  I never thought this would happen though. Anger simmers beneath the pain. I grip onto it. Needing it and feeling alive again with it.

  I’ll ruin Patterson. I’ll make sure he pays for what he did to her.

  Chapter 29

  Charlotte

  I wish I could afford to tender my resignation, I think to myself as I set my glass of hot tea down on my desk and peck out a response to an email. Then I’d be gone like the wind.

  I lean back against my headboard in my PJs, working on my laptop, sitting cross-legged in bed. I’m trying to focus on getting work done, but all I can think about are the events of the past few weeks that led up to this. The pain, the humiliation. These emotions haunt me daily and makes it hard for me to focus on important tasks. I wish I could just leave. But quitting means giving up this apartment and my paycheck. I have no savings. I have to keep working. I applied to nearly sixty jobs yesterday, none of them in my field. I’ll take the pay cut and start at the bottom. I never wanna go back. I take in a shuddering breath. I have to until I have something else though. At least Hastings is letting me work from home.

  But he can’t save me from everything; I have a press conference coming up on Tuesday, and I desperately don’t want to go. I don’t think I can bear it, seeing Logan, seeing all those accusatory eyes on me, knowing what they’re thinking.

  She’s a whore, an office slut. I can just hear it now. I lean back and close my eyes.

  For days now I’ve been weighing my options. I could quit, but there was no telling if I’d be able to find another job. By now, word of my sexcapade with Logan has spread throughout the entire sales industry. No self-respecting corporation that cared about their public image would ever hire me, and I’d probably be laughed out of interview rooms across town.

  I just have to face it--I’m stuck. And a part of me blames Logan.

  It hurts just thinking his name. I feel horrible for leaving him the way I did. I was just emotional and feeling alone. I’ve waited all week for him to call. He hasn’t, and it hurts. I thought what we had together meant something to him.

  I was a fool to stick around when he told me to my face that he wouldn’t commit. I deserve this.

  The pain almost overwhelms me and tears burn my eyes. I climb off the bed and grab a tissue from the box on my desk to blow my nose, then toss it into the wastebasket with a hundred others. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved. I feared ending up like this, becoming a sorry, broken mess.

  He should’ve called me, I think to myself, even if he doesn’t think I want to talk to him, to prove me wrong. To show that he really does care about me. At the same time, I should have called him.

  Even Hastings has called me, though he’s kept everything professional and hasn’t once mentioned the photos. I think he feels sorry for me and wants to keep an eye out, make sure I don’t go try to go jump off a building somewhere.

  If I can get through these next few months, I’ll look for another place… in another city, I tell myself.

  The thought makes me miserable and I slog through the mass of emails feeling like shit. I’m just through responding to my last email when I get a call from Eva.

  “Hello?” I answer the same way I always have.

  “Charlotte!” Eva cries, her voice joyful. “I’m so happy to hear your voice!”

  I hold in a groan. I know she’s trying to be cheerful because she knows that I’m in a dark place, but it’s not going to help. Despite what she says, it’s hard not to think that she thinks less of me after she saw the photos of Logan and I screwing. “Thanks,” I say. “How are things going?”

  There’s a pause on the other end of the line and then I hear Eva suck in a breath. “Alright. Things have been going great with the project.” She’s not mentioning anything about the photos. Good, because I don’t want to hear it. Although she did leave a message on my voicemail about it on the day after it happened and the first day I stayed home from work. I never returned that call. I suppose she got the memo.

  There’s another pause and then she blurts, “Hannah, Cary Ann and I are doing a ladies' night tonight. Wanna come?”

  Not really, is my initial thought. I shift on the bed, pushing the laptop away and trying to get comfortable. I don’t want to go, but I feel somewhat obligated because of how supportive Eva is trying to be. I know she only wants me to get out of the house and out of this depression. Yet there’s no way I’m going to go and deal with the stares... the looks. I haven’t talked to Hannah and Cary Ann since it happened, and I’m sure they're going to have questions for me. I can’t handle that tonight. It’s just too much. “I’m sorry, Eva,” I say finally, “but I really don’t want to.”

  “Please,” Eva implores. “I’m just worried about you. Getting out for some fresh air and a relaxing drink would be good for you.”

  “I… just can’t.” It’s obvious that we handle things differently, and she’s only trying to help. But I know I won’t be alright. I’m not ready to put myself out there like that.

  Before Eva can reply, there’s a knock at the door. “I gotta go, Eva. Sorry.” I hang up the phone and crawl out of my bed, quickly jogging to the front door so they don’t leave. When I get there, it’s a different story. For a moment, I debate on even opening the door. There’s no one I wanna talk to… other than Logan.

  Instead I peek through the peephole. I see an old man dressed in black standing outside. I watch as he raises his hand and knocks again. I wait, hoping he'll go away, but he stands there and knocks several more times.

  I finally answer the knock with a raised voice, “I’m not presentable right now, so I would prefer you leave and come back at a decent time.”

  I can barely hear him through the door, but my ears perk up when he says, “It’s about Logan.”

  The chain lock clinks as I unlock it and I swing the door open. “What about Logan?” I ask breathlessly.

  The old man doesn’t answer right away, taking in my PJs and disheveled appearance.

  “Miss Harrison?” he asks.

  I grip the door and answer, “Yes. I would really like to get straight to the point.” Even in my PJs I’m attempting to command a sense of professionalism. It’s laughable, but I don’t have the energy for small talk.

  He nods politely. “What happened between you two,” he explains, clasping his hands in front of him. “Logan’s done this before. He destroyed a woman’s career, and it was extremely unfortunate to watch.”

  I cross my arms, suddenly feeling extremely exposed and try not to let the tears pricking my eyes come. I hate how everyone knows. Worse than that, the implication this man is making. Logan wouldn’t do that. I shake my head slightly, but the man continues.

  “You should sue him,” the old man continues. “Make him pay for what he did t
o you. It'll be hard for you to get a job if you suddenly find yourself unemployed, no? If you take him to court, you won’t have to worry about that.” I can’t believe this man has the audacity to make such an accusation. As if reading my mind, he holds up his hands in defense. “I knew her well. And she was never able to recover, so that’s why I’m reaching out to you. For your benefit and hers.” His voice is soft and soothing. It’s genuine. My heart crumples in my chest. I can’t breathe. Logan… set me up?

  “But why?” I barely breathe the words out.

  “He has a history of hurting others for sport.” I cover my mouth with my hand as my blood turns to ice and my stomach churns. No, I can’t believe that. “Mr. Parker has deep pockets. I’d bet he’d settle out of court to avoid the negative press it would bring his company. And you wouldn’t suffer over the damages he caused you.”

  When I don’t reply, the man says, “I just wanted to let you know your options.” He hands out a gold-plated business card to me that reads, Johnny Black & Associates. “Here’s my card. If you decide you want to take action against Logan, call me.”

  He turns and walks off, leaving me standing there running my finger along the edge of his business card and struggling to understand and accept why I fall for men who only want to hurt me.

  Chapter 30

  Logan

  I look over the email from the lawyer once more. It’s on my phone as I sit in the car outside of Charlotte’s apartment. I’m pissed. I can’t stand waiting on the law for judges to sign off on warrants. I already have all the information they need. Although, it wasn’t obtained legally and for now I need to wait. Patterson is guilty, and I’ll spend whatever it cost to ensure he does jail time. I won’t settle on anything less.

  But for now, I need to keep my head down and talk to public relations, according to the lawyer, Joseph Casings. I sigh heavily and sit back in my seat.

  I grit my teeth. I don’t fucking like waiting. I can’t sit back and do nothing. Which is precisely what PR told me to do as well. To carry on as though nothing has happened. And as for Charlotte, she’s to do the same. Although I haven’t had a moment to speak with her. She hasn’t come to work, and I haven’t called her without knowing how to make this right. But I know now, I have something to offer her. I only hope it’s enough.

  My body tenses and my heart slows as I think about how she must feel. I don’t know what else to do.

  I fucked up though. Although Patterson would have found a way to use her against me, it’s still my fault that this is what happened. My ego gave him an opportunity that destroyed her, and no matter how much I’d like to deny it, it will affect her career. For awhile at least.

  I sent out an email and made an announcement this morning. If anyone utters a word about those pictures, they’ll be fired. No questions or excuses. The legal department has to handle the rest, but it won’t be enough. Nothing can make it go away.

  And now I’m sitting outside of her apartment like a lovesick puppy debating on crawling back to her and begging for her forgiveness. Debating on how, really. Not if I will… just the best way to go about it.

  She needs to know that I’m sorry, and that I’m going to make it up to her as best as I can.

  My heart hammers in my chest as I finally get out of the car and make my way up to her apartment, and again I feel that pain rip through me. I pause on the stairs and lean against the wall, waiting for it to pass. It doesn’t seem right. The pain radiates in my leg. Awareness races through me. My heartbeat slows with fear. But the pain seems to dim. I hold my breath, ignoring it and willing it to leave me the fuck alone. Something’s off, but it can wait. It has to wait until I’ve at least talked to her. I need to tell her. The pain lessens to a tolerable level, and I continue climbing the stairs with shortened breath. At the top, I consider calling Doctor Wallace. In the past two years, I’ve only called him once. My jaw clenches and with the pain nearly gone, I decide to let it go.

  It’ll be fine. I’m fine.

  I walk to her door, a gold 22 on the plate on her door, and I knock three times. I take in a steady breath and nervously straighten my jacket as I wait. I can just barely hear shuffling noises from inside her apartment and then a click of the lock.

  It takes a long moment of waiting with bated breath before she opens the door slowly, only a few inches at first, and then a bit more.

  My Rose.

  The dark circles under her eyes make my heart sink. She looks tired and unhappy. Her lips are paler than usual, and her eyes are red and slightly swollen. My poor Rose.

  “Rose,” I say and start to reach out to her, but she pulls away quickly and the soft lines of her face harden.

  “Logan,” she says, leaning her body slightly forward and making it obvious that she’s not going to let me in. I’m caught off guard. I know she left me, but this seems... uncharacteristic.

  “I just want to talk,” I tell her.

  The expression on her face changes slightly, showing her sadness, but only for a second. A split second so fast it makes me think I imagined it.

  “Talk then,” she says in a clipped voice.

  I swallow thickly. I didn’t anticipate discussing this in the hallway. I didn’t think she’d be so defensive either. I debate on asking her why, but then I think better of it. Whatever she’s comfortable with will work for me. “Public relations' suggestion is to carry on and essentially pretend this never happened.” Her eyes pierce into me as though they’re daggers. I clear my throat and stand a little straighter.

  “The lawyers are going to make sure that he pays for doing this to you.” Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t respond. She’s sizing me up and I can see she’s going to snap at me. She’s just waiting for a chance. I welcome it though. I need something from her. I’d take anything right now, but she’s giving me nothing.

  “I’m going to handle this, Charlotte.” She stands in her doorway, pulling the door closer to her. “He won’t get away with it.” I’m doing my best to convey that I’ve done everything I can do. “I promise you.” I put as much emotion as I can in my voice, but her body language is still tense. My heart squeezes in my chest.

  She looks at me with complete distrust, and I don’t understand it. I don’t know where this animosity is coming from.

  “Please forgive me, Rose,” I whisper and put my hand up to push her hair out of her face, but she flinches and moves away, leaving me to let my hand fall.

  I clear my throat and let the silence pass between us. She looks past me, and doesn’t say anything.

  “I’ll keep you updated on the legal matters.” Her eyes dart to mine. “We can sue him for harassment at least. I’ll bury him financially. Taking away his social circle, bankrupting him, it won’t be enough.” My heart beats frantically as the adrenaline pumps through my veins. I will make him pay for what he did. I stare into Charlotte’s baby blue eyes, but she gives me nothing in return. Cold as ice.

  “I’m sure Patterson will have his legal team try to shut down the case, but my legal team is far better than anything Johnny Black can throw at me.”

  “Who?” she asks, with her forehead pinching, her demeanor changing slightly.

  I nod my head, realizing I jumped into this without explaining much. Fuck. I wish she’d just let me in so I can talk to her without this awkwardness between us. “His name is Chadwick Patterson. He’s the one who sent the emails, it was his IP address and it’s not the first-”

  “No, Black. Johnny Black.” She says his name with a harsh edge and a bit of distaste. It’s odd, he has a reputation, but I’m surprised she’d know anything about him or his shady legal tactics.

  “Yes, Patterson uses Black for his legal defense and I’m sure he has him on retainer.”

  She looks me dead in the eye as her breathing picks up. Her grip tightens on the door as her face reddens and her bottom lip trembles with a mix of anger and sadness.

  “I’m so tired of being lied to and not knowing what to think.” She spits o
ut her words with venom. She’s practically shaking, and I’m not sure what to make of the situation. I put my hands up in surrender.

  “Rose,” I say and try to keep my voice gentle and calming, “I’m not lying to you. I’ve never lied to you.”

  She throws the door open and turns her back on me. The doorknob hits the wall, sending the door flying back at me. I put my hand out to keep it from shutting and cautiously take a step forward. She’s not okay and she needs me, but I’m not sure what the hell is wrong with her.

  No fucking way am I walking into her apartment. Not without knowing what the fuck she’s doing, and whether or not I’m even welcomed.

  “Rose?” I call out to her as she practically stomps to the kitchen island and snatches something off the counter.

  She walks back to me with a deadly look. “This Johnny Black?” she asks, her voice accusatory, with a raised voice, shoving the card in my face.

  I take her wrist in my hand and lower it, keeping my eyes on hers as a warning. She’s upset, but I don’t fucking like the way she’s talking to me.

  Her breathing is still frantic, but she seems to calm slightly. As she looks at the floor, I take a look at the card.

  “Yes,” I say and her eyes reach mine and they flash with a knowing look. “Where did you get this?” I ask. My voice is low and threatening, but not toward her. I’m fucking pissed that she had any contact with that snake at all.

  “I’ve been online, I’ve been searching and searching for the name of the woman you did this to before, but I couldn’t find anything.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Anger makes me push the door open and slam it shut behind me. She takes a step back into her foyer and keeps eye contact.

  “He told me you’d done this before.” She motions to the card. “You don’t know how much it hurt me,” she says and her voice cracks and her eyes glass over. The strong suit of armor crumbles into dust and the pain I know she’s feeling comes through as her shoulders hunch and her arms wrap around herself. “I couldn’t believe you’d do this to me,” she says in almost a whisper before wiping the tears from her eyes.