Wicked Games: A Forbidden Romance

by T. K. Leigh

  I lower my eyes, not wanting to tell her it’s all I can afford.

  “So we took it upon ourselves to change your flight and your hotel,” Evie explains. “All paid for. And don’t worry. The entire staff at the magazine donated some of their paid leave so you won’t have to use any of your accumulated time. You even have some extra days now, too. You leave Saturday.”

  “Saturday?” My eyes widen. “As in seven days from now?”

  “Well, since it’s Sunday, technically six,” Nora interjects. “But who’s counting?”

  “You,” Izzy quips. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ve been counting down to this wedding since you set the date over a year ago.”

  “What can I say?” She shrugs, tilting her head to meet Jeremy’s dark eyes. “I’m so excited to have one penis for the rest of my life.”

  I watch as she kisses him. Normally, I would have joked and told them to get a room, but there’s something about their love that’s so sweet, so pure, so hopeful. It makes me optimistic that I’ll find love again.

  When Nora reluctantly tears her lips from Jeremy’s, she looks at me. “It’ll be great. We’re flying there Friday. Izzy’s flying in on Sunday, right?”

  I look to Izzy, who nods.

  “And Evie and Julian are arriving on Sunday, too. You were the only one who was flying in, doing the wedding, then leaving the next day. I want some time with my friend.”

  “You deserve this, sweetie,” Mom says. “You’ve worked your tail off taking care of yourself and me for far too long. Enjoy it.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” I shake my head, knowing how much something like this must have cost. The rooms at the hotel alone are close to $400 a night. To pay for me to stay there eight nights? I tell myself it’s too much, that I don’t deserve it. But I’m trying to learn I deserve better than I’ve afforded myself.

  “Just say you won’t miss that plane, because the last thing I want to worry about is rebooking your damn flight. Again,” Nora says.

  “I’ll be there.” I reach across the table, grabbing both Nora’s and Evie’s hands in mine. Izzy covers one of mine and I look at all the incredible women who’ve supported me through everything, even if they haven’t always agreed with some of my decisions. “Thank you.”

  The celebration continues for a while longer, all of us indulging in the ridiculously rich chocolate soufflé. I don’t know how Julian stays in such great shape with Camille’s cooking. Based on the way Evie can barely keep her hands off him, I surmise the workout she must give him in the bedroom helps in that department.

  “You got a minute?” Evie asks as everyone lounges in the sitting area of Julian’s penthouse condo, the breathtaking view of Central Park and Manhattan a stunning backdrop. It’s still hard to picture Evie living here, to be in this life with Julian, a man she was just supposed to pretend to date for a summer. I guess we can’t control who we fall in love with. The last few months have taught me that.

  “Sure.” I set my coffee on the marble table in front of me and get up from the couch, following her to a room she’s revamped as her office.

  A modern, white desk sits in the center, brightly colored chairs on either side of it. The walls are lined with framed photos of various important editions of Blush, including the first one that listed her as assistant editor. She’s come a long way from being the sex and dating columnist we all read for a quick laugh. I suppose I have, too.

  “What’s up?” I ask as she walks to the desk and retrieves a large envelope.

  She faces me, chewing on her lower lip. “Don’t get mad.”

  I eye her skeptically. “When you start out like that, I have a feeling I might.”

  “I know. I just…” She blows out a breath. “I really think you need this.” She hesitantly extends the envelope toward me.

  I stare at her, unsure I want to know what’s inside. But intrigue gets the better of me and I open it, pulling out what appears to be a proof of the July issue of Time. The cover has the signature red border, the image a single rocks glass filled a quarter of the way with an amber liquid.

  “Wha—”

  “Viv loved your piece. I mean really loved it.”

  “I know. She was going to make it the feature article in the July issue of Blush.”

  “And she was. Until she found out that Time was doing a feature on alcoholism in America. They’re running stories from people who dealt with it themselves, as well as family members of alcoholics.”

  My pulse increases when I see a tab sticking out, marking a page. I open to it, the air sucked from my lungs when I read the title and byline.

  The Biggest Lie

  By Chloe Davenport, Contributor

  I fling my eyes back to Evie, a dozen questions on the tip of my tongue.

  “Viv thought your piece too important to run in Blush. So did the editor at Time.”

  I run my finger over my name, still feeling like this can’t be real. I often imagined seeing my name in this magazine. I never thought it would happen. Thought all I’d ever do was write about the hottest celebrity gossip. But here it is… My story. In all its tragic, heart-wrenching beauty. Something that never would have been possible if Evie didn’t believe in me.

  Overwhelmed, I throw my arms around her, squeezing. “Thank you.”

  “You know I love you, Chloe. Cracks and all.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  I zip up my suitcase, then check my bathroom and bedroom one last time to make sure I’m not forgetting anything. As long as I remember my bridesmaid dress and shoes, everything else is replaceable.

  At first, I was uncertain about spending a week in Hawaii when I could be working, but getting out of Manhattan is exactly what I need. Hopefully it will help clear my mind. And maybe I’ll even meet some hot islander to make me forget, even if for a little while.

  My buzzer sounds and I check the time, seeing it’s not yet 5:30 in the morning. The driver Evie and Julian sent must be early.

  I drag my bags into the foyer, then open the door without looking through the peephole, stopping short when my eyes fall on the familiar man standing on my doorstep.

  “Dad? What are you—”

  He brings his hand from his back, revealing a copy of the edition of Time my piece will appear in. It’s not supposed to drop until next week, but I’m sure someone in the industry saw my name and sent him a copy, probably to do damage control.

  With a sigh, I step back. “Would you like to come in?” I figure it’s best for him to ream me out now instead of having this weigh on my mind during my vacation.

  He doesn’t say anything. Just nods and walks into my apartment. I follow him, finding it odd to see him here. I don’t think he’s ever actually been to my place. To be honest, I’m surprised he even knows where I live.

  “Can we make this quick? I have a flight to catch.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, not even asking why he thought it a good idea to come to my apartment so early on a Saturday. Based on the fact that he’s dressed in a suit, his tie loosened, his eyes bloodshot, he’s probably been at the office all night working. As always.

  He parts his lips, but words don’t come right away. I furrow my brow. I can’t remember a time my father didn’t have an opinion about something. When he held anything back. When he struggled to find the right words.

  Then I notice tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he looks at me. I mean, really looks at me. Really sees me. There’s not so much as a hint of disappointment in his gaze. Only sorrow. And regret.

  “Is this true?” His low voice quivers, barely able to get his question out. It’s a stark contrast to the man who always seemed so confident, who never cared much for people’s feelings. At least not my feelings.

  I nod slightly.

  He slumps onto the couch, burying his head in his hands. I’m not sure what to make of this. Over the years, I’ve learned to remain guarded around this man, concerned he’d take advantage of any weakness. If I didn’t kn
ow any better, I’d think this person were an imposter, his demeanor not resembling the man I thought to be my father.

  He lifts his weary eyes to mine. He’s always had a youthful appearance, and I’ve often heard some of the other students at the university refer to him as a “silver fox”. But now, he looks to have aged immensely.

  “You really did all these things just to keep the truth from me?”

  I could sugarcoat it to protect his feelings, but he never did that with me. I’m trying to move on, trying to start over. I can’t keep lying.

  “You already had such a low opinion of me. I figured the truth wouldn’t change that. It would probably only make it worse.”

  He hangs his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose. I don’t move, simply observing him, trying to figure out the game he’s playing. Then a sob cuts through the stillness of my minuscule apartment.

  “God, Chloe…” He briefly looks to the ceiling. “What have I done?”

  I remain silent, unsure how to answer that. Unsure I can answer that.

  “I should have paid more attention to your mother. To you. I was so focused on fighting for a cause I believed in…” His eyes lock on mine. “When I should have been fighting for you. For your mother. For my family. How could I…” He draws in a deep breath. “How could I have been so blind?”

  “We’re all blind to things we’re not equipped to deal with.” I lower myself to the couch. I can’t remember the last time I sat beside this man. I can’t remember the last time we’ve talked without him belittling me.

  “That sounds like something your mother would say.” He laughs slightly, swiping at his tears before his expression turns serious. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for this. I certainly wouldn’t. I’ve been a horrible dad. When I was growing up, my father was always working, always pushed us to achieve more. Not that it’s any excuse for how I treated you, but it’s all I knew. And your poor mother…” He trails off as he looks into the distance.

  “I was the one who begged to have a family with her, even though I knew how much she loved her career. Hell, we met at a rally in support of the Equal Rights Amendment. She was a firecracker back then, even though she was only a college freshman. I should have known she wouldn’t be happy at home with kids. But I ignored her, too.”

  He grabs my hands in his, his grip firm. I peer at them, the feel of my father’s skin against mine odd.

  “I’m begging you to give me a chance to show you I can be a better person. To make up for…this.” Dropping his hold on me, he lifts the magazine that’s open to my article. His eyes skate over the words on the page… My words. “All of it. You never should have…” His voice catches and he swallows, squeezing his eyes shut. “You never should have had to go through this. To do these things.”

  Absorbing his heartfelt plea, I look away from him, drawing in a deep breath as I collect my thoughts. I never anticipated my father would show up on my doorstep, let alone apologize. If anything, I figured he’d chew me out for publicizing private matters, as ironic as that sounds for a lawyer who fights to ensure the public has access to important information.

  I don’t have to forgive him. Don’t even have to give him a chance. But one of the things they talk about in the Al-Anon meetings I’ve made a point to attend is letting go and moving forward. Of accepting the things life has thrown at us and growing from those experiences.

  When I look back at him, I respond the only way that makes sense. “I think I did.”

  His brows furrow. “Wha—”

  “I think I did have to go through all of this.” I wrap my fingers around his hand, squeezing reassuringly. “My past has shaped me into the person I am today. For the first time in my life, I like this person. That may have been a different story a few weeks ago, but I’m learning how to accept things and learn from them. If I didn’t go through everything I did, I would never have written this.” I grab the magazine out of his hands, holding it up. “I may never have seen my name in Time. Time! That’s just… I don’t even have the words.”

  He smiles, then wraps his arm around me, pulling me against him. I thought it would feel awkward, but it doesn’t. I inhale, the familiar spicy scent reminding me of my childhood. “I think you would have found your way there eventually, sweetie.” He kisses the top of my head.

  “Thanks… Dad.”

  We have a long way to go to bury the past, and some days will be harder than others, just like with my mother. But it’s nice to know he finally realizes his approach to parenting has been anything but healthy.

  “I just want you to promise me something,” I say, pulling out of his embrace.

  “Anything.”

  I pinch my lips together, pausing. “Stop working so much and get to know Midge. She’s a really great kid.”

  A smile covers his mouth, his eyes sparkling. “I can do that.”

  “And if she doesn’t want to ride a horse, or learn archery, or do fencing, or any of the other ridiculously snooty sports you signed me up for, listen to her. Kids should be able to kick a ball up and down a field instead of stab a sword into their opponent.”

  “You got it. No snooty sports.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.” It’s silent for a moment before he speaks again. “I’m sorry for what I said to you the last time I saw you. The night—”

  “It’s okay. Like you said, it never would have worked. He would have always been my professor. He would have had to sacrifice too much to be with me.”

  He pulls me against him again, holding me like a father who really loves his daughter. Deep down, he probably always has, but just showed it in a…different way.

  “If he’s smart, he’ll sacrifice it all. Just like I should have years ago.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  I lean my forearms against the railing of my ocean-front room, inhaling the fragrant Hawaiian air, the crash of waves sounding from mere yards away. A breeze picks up, blowing my hair in front of my face, and I relax, exhaling a satisfied sigh.

  This is exactly what I needed. Fresh air. Ocean waves. Stunning scenery. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a day off to enjoy myself. Now I have ten days to myself, having been ordered by my boss not to pick up my phone or answer an email until I’m back in the office. I’m not sure what to do with all this free time.

  A knock on the door interrupts my moment of serenity, and I tear my attention away from a few well-built surfers, their glistening bodies bobbing up and down as they wait to catch a wave. I retreat into my home, leaving the sliding glass doors open to allow the ocean air inside.

  When I pull back the door to my room, I’m instantly assaulted by an excited Nora, who practically tackles me to the floor. “You’re here! This is really happening, isn’t it?”

  I hug her back, laughing. When I first landed at the airport less than an hour ago, I wondered if this was a mistake, if I would have been better off staying in New York a little longer. The entire baggage claim area seemed to be filled with couples on their honeymoon, fingers intertwined, a sparkle in their eyes as they struggled to keep their hands off each other.

  But seeing Nora, being here for her, spending time with her, is more important than any longing or heartache I feel at the thought of wishing Lincoln were here with me. As I’d reminded myself time and again these past few weeks, he never would have been able to be here with me. Never would have been able to hold my hand in baggage claim. Never would have been able to kiss me as we watched one of the most magnificent sunsets in existence.

  This is for the best.

  Pulling out of her embrace, I glance from her to Jeremy. They’ve only been here a day, yet he looks like he’s been on the island for a while. He’s already acclimated to the tropical attire, wearing a neutral Hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts. His skin is sun-kissed, his sandy hair a little lighter at the ends.

  “It is,” I answer. “Unless one of you gets cold feet within the next few days.”

  “Not a
chance in hell.” Nora wraps her arm around Jeremy’s waist, pulling him against her. She meets his eyes. “You’re stuck with me.”

  “Sounds good to me, babe.” He kisses her nose. Such a simple gesture, but it has me sighing.

  “We’ll let you get all settled. We’re off to meet with our wedding coordinator anyway, but I wanted to stop by and say hi.”

  “Do you want me to come and help?” I ask, feeling like I’ve been a shitty maid of honor lately. Thankfully, Evie picked up the slack, considering she worked as a wedding planning assistant prior to getting the job at the magazine.

  “You take it easy this afternoon. Go relax on the beach. Check out the local…flavor.” She waggles her brows.

  “I already have.” I gesture toward the balcony. “This is certainly a room with a view.” I force a smile, since that’s something pre-Lincoln Chloe would do.

  “Good.” She grins, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I know she wishes the past several months had a different outcome, too, despite the fact I kept her in the dark until it all fell apart. Then she pulls a piece of cardstock from her purse, handing it to me. “Now, here’s our itinerary for the week.”

  I grimace. “Itinerary?”

  “This island is full of fun activities. Sightseeing. Volcanos. Helicopter rides. Snorkeling. Paddle boarding. Surfing.”

  I scan the sheet of paper. “You left out the waterfall picnic lunch,” I jest, reading her plan for Wednesday.

  “I know it’s not your idea of a fun vacation, but when are we all going to be in Hawaii together again? We should take advantage of it.”

  I exhale, the idea of having to be somewhere at a certain time making my skin crawl. But if this is what Nora wants, I won’t rain on her parade.

  “Fine. But only because I love you and want you to have the wedding of your dreams.”

  “Thank you.” She beams, then her expression falls. “On that note…” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, nervously shifting her gaze from me to Jeremy, then back again. “We have a favor to ask.”