John doesn’t disagree with that, not that I expected him to.
With his lips lightly pressed against his intertwined fingers, he says, “I knew there had to be a logical explanation.”
“I don’t want you to think bad of him, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize his job here.” I know I sound desperate, but that’s because it’s how I feel.
Suddenly, he narrows his gaze at me. “Are you two—?”
My denial is hasty and firm. “No. He’s forgiven me but we’re not seeing each other,” I lie. Graham doesn’t want anyone to know.
My soon-to-be ex-boss takes me at my word, his pleated brow smoothing as he pushes to his feet and steps out from behind his desk. I quickly follow his lead and beat him to the door.
“As much as I hate to see you go, I think it might be for the best. I probably wouldn’t have hired you if I’d known you and Graham had been involved before.”
Yeah, that was me being selfish again. Getting him to forgive me had been more about me being able to live with myself. I should have taken his feelings into consideration. This time I’m going to do the right thing by him.
“If you want me to give you two weeks’ notice, I will but I think it would be better if Sunday was my last day.”
John pats me awkwardly on the shoulder. “That’s fine with me. I’ll mail your last check to you next week.”
The only thing I can offer at this point is a sad smile tinged with gratitude. “Thank you for not firing him—and for understanding.”
“Graham’s a good kid and we all make mistakes. I’ve made a couple that could have landed me in jail. No one’s perfect. Don’t beat yourself up about this.”
Easier said than done. I open the door to leave.
“Emily,” he calls out before I’m through the doorway.
I glance over my shoulder at him.
“I take it you’ll be the one to tell Graham about this.” It’s not a question. John is giving me advice he expects me to heed.
I respond with a jerky nod.
I’m going to tell him I quit but why make things worse by telling him how my dad tried to get him fired for going out with me? Guilty doesn’t begin to describe how I feel about the lengths he’s willing to go to get him out of my life. Graham doesn’t deserve this.
And he won’t have to worry about it once I break up with him.
Chapter 32
“For fuck’s sake, Gray, break it off with her already. She’s going to destroy your fucking life.”
I shouldn’t have said shit to Blake about what happened. His reaction is everything I don’t need right now.
“You know what, Blake, I didn’t come here for that,” I shoot back, scowling.
Blake wanted me to check out an office space he’s thinking of leasing. He’d come last week with the real estate agent and wanted to take another look. I agreed to come partly because we hadn’t had a chance to talk since John pulled me into his office last night and I needed to talk about it with someone. Someone whose name isn’t Emily.
After a tour of the office with the agent, we decided to grab lunch at the deli directly across the street from the six-story technology building.
“What the hell do you want me to say after what you just told me? That relationship is poisonous.” Frowning at me from across the table, Blake refuses to give an inch. We’d been lucky to get one in the crowded and noisy deli at the height of the lunch rush.
“It’s not her fault someone’s out to make my life miserable.” I take a drink of my homemade lemonade having already demolished my meatball sub.
Blake stares at me, incredulous. “Do you actually hear yourself? Of course it’s her fault. If she hadn’t lied, you wouldn’t be dealing with any of this shit.”
“What if it’s not her brother?” I’m fairly sure it is but I can’t be absolutely certain.
“Who else could it be? Unless it’s her father. He’s the one who had you arrested.”
“They aren’t the only ones who don’t like the fact that we’re back together,” I state dryly, giving him a pointed look.
Blake slowly lowers the half-eaten Philly cheesesteak sandwich back onto his Styrofoam plate, his eyes narrowed. “Are you accusing me—” he jabs a finger against his chest “—of what I think you are?”
The offended look on his face convinces me I’m barking up the wrong tree. Not that I actually thought he’d done it.
“I’m not accusing you, I’m simply reminding you that they’re not the only ones who don’t like the idea of us being together.” Hell, it could be anyone in her damn family.
“Yeah, but I’m your best friend and I already told you I was willing to give her another chance. I shouldn’t even be on the list of suspects.”
“You’re not,” I mutter. “Forget I mentioned it.”
Shit, I shouldn’t have brought it up. Better yet, I shouldn’t have said anything to him about the email. What had I expected him to say? Of course he’d tell me to leave her in my rearview mirror. Well, I’m not ready to throw in the towel. Hopefully I’ll be able to hold onto my job, and then I’ll talk to Emily and together we’ll figure things out.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Blake mutters under his breath, his attention suddenly riveted to the front of the shop.
I turn my head and follow his gaze.
When we’d first come in the line had been long, but now it’s longer, almost out the door. Standing near the beginning of that long line is a stunning brunette—who’s staring back at us. I should say she’s staring at Blake. I get only a cursory glance.
My gaze swings back to Blake. “Who’s that?”
At my question, he finally tears his gaze from her. “That is Madison.” He doesn’t sound happy about it.
Ah yes, Madison the one-night stand. I check her out again, taking in her wavy brown hair, lightish eyes, and a figure made for fitted blouses and the pencil skirt she’s wearing. And her face isn’t bad either. Very nice.
Smirking, I return my attention to him. “So that’s the girl who has you by the balls.”
His lips tighten. “She doesn’t have me by the balls.”
Yeah right. “What’s she doing here?”
“She works over there.” He jerks his head in the direction of the building across the street. The building we’d recently come from.
I snort a laugh. “Are you telling me you’re thinking of leasing office space in the same building as—” I drop my voice to a whisper “—Madison?”
“Fuck off,” he snaps, darting another look at her.
Smiling, I drain the rest of my drink. Blake has it bad. Worse than I thought and much worse than he let on.
I watch as he takes a bite of his sandwich and tries not to look at her paying for her lunch. He manages it for all of ten seconds.
“How about I make you a deal? I’ll think about breaking things off with Emily if you can honestly tell me you’re not looking for office space here because of her.”
“Honestly,” I remind him when he opens his mouth to speak.
His mouth instantly slams shut.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I state smugly. “Now help me figure out what to do about her fucking brother.”
Two hours later, I’m back at home and no closer to figuring out what to do than I was when I woke up this morning. Blake was no help. Once Madison arrived, it was impossible for him to concentrate on my problems. He was heading over to talk to her when I left the deli. Said something about them needing to clear the air.
About my job? I guess I’ll know if I have one when I go in tomorrow. Unless John contacts me before then. Or maybe it’d be better if I just quit. The last thing I want is to cause problems for him. But then where the hell will I work? It’s not like this can’t happen again.
Fuck my life. Seriously, fuck it.
I run a hand through my hair and drop onto the couch. The only thing stopping me from calling Emily is that she’s in class right now. I have
to tell her about the email, and although I know her brother has something—most likely everything—to do with it, I won’t come right out and say that to her. He is her brother. Then there’s the little matter that I have nothing concrete to back up my gut instinct.
Picking up the switcher, I turn on the telly, mainly to fill the silence and to stop my thoughts from getting ahead of me. Of dwelling on the worst possible outcome.
Maybe it’s time I started looking for a job in marketing. I’ll have to start looking in a few months anyway. This job was only ever supposed to be a stopgap measure to get me through until I graduate.
As if knowing I’d welcome a diversion, my mobile rings. I scoop it off the ottoman, surprised but happy to see Emily’s image light up the screen.
I swipe to answer, and press the speaker icon. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“The professor canceled at the last minute. Are you home?” she asks, a note of strain in her voice.
I hear a car door slam in the background.
“Yeah, I’m not due into work until six. Where are you?”
“Downstairs. Can I come up?”
“Of course. Let me buzz you in,” I say as I rise from the couch and walk over to the intercom by the door.
“I’ll be up in a minute,” she replies before disconnecting the call.
Whilst I’m waiting, I spot check the flat to make sure it’s fit for company. With the exception of the breakfast dishes in the sink, the place is pretty clean.
I’m waiting at my front door when she rounds the corner from the elevator. She looks gorgeous in blue jeans, black knee-high boots and a short black jacket, her hair loose and tumbling down her back. Upon seeing me, a fleeting smile brightens her face and then it’s gone.
Something’s wrong. I can feel it. She’s giving off a weird vibe. When she draws near, I take her hand and gently lead her inside.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask, absently closing the door behind us. “You usually look happier than that to see me.”
Now she just looks pained. “We need to talk.”
My gut twists. And not just at her words but also at the hoarseness in her voice.
I drop her hand and take a step back, studying her intently. I take note of the faint shadows under her eyes and the tension around her mouth.
“What’s going on, Em?”
She looks at me before quickly looking away. Then she switches her purse to her other shoulder. Fidgeting. Delaying.
The knot in my gut tightens. “Em, what’s wrong?”
She takes a deep breath and then blurts, “I think we should stop seeing each other.”
I blink. She’s breaking up with me.
Given her skittishness, I sensed it was something big—but not this. And I can’t believe how much it hurts.
Emily shifts on her feet, her gaze moving everywhere on my face except my eyes. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. That you don’t know where this relationship is going. You’re going to graduate next year and I’ll still have another year left.” She swallows. “You said you don’t want to get serious with anyone so I just think it would be better if we broke up now.”
“So this doesn’t have anything to do with the email John got?” I ask. It has to be. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
She gasps and her eyes become saucers. And there’s my answer. She knows. I don’t know how, but she does.
“You know?” Her voice squeaks in disbelief.
“John told me. How did you find out?”
Emily raises her hand where it flutters around the base of her neck, her breaths quick and uneven. “My dad copied me on the email.”
“Your father knows I’m here? That we’re seeing each other? I thought your brother promised not to say anything to him.”
“It wasn’t Cole,” she whispers hoarsely. “My dad knows a lot of people.”
I let out a huff. So her brother isn’t the perpetrator. But it fits. It has her father’s fingerprints all over it. In his position, he’d have access to all the right people to track me down. Ruthless son of a bitch.
“And because of that, you don’t think we should see each other anymore?”
Abruptly dropping her hand to her side, she stares at me wide-eyed. “Graham, he tried to get you fired.”
“No, he’s trying to break us up, and apparently he’s succeeded because at the first sign of trouble, you’re bolting.”
Aghast, her mouth falls open. “What are you talking about?” She pauses and releases a controlled breath. “Look Graham, I know what I did back then was wrong, but I didn’t bolt when everything went to hell. I tried to see you. I called, I left messages, and I begged for your forgiveness. I didn’t blame you for leaving or refusing to talk to me. I understood.”
“Are you saying I bolted?” That’s the only thing I take from what she said, hurt and anger clouding my mind. “I was arrested for statutory rape because you lied to me. What the fuck did you think I should do?”
“I said I didn’t blame you for leaving,” she states quietly. “But I think a part of you will always hold that against me.”
I regard her narrowly. Maybe she’s right.
“Just so I know for future reference, why exactly are you breaking up with me? Is it because of your father or the fact that I can’t promise you anything after I graduate? You did make a point of mentioning that at the beginning.”
Sighing, she briefly glances away. “It’s everything, Graham. Everything. Our past. My dad. And yes, the fact that we already know when it’s going to end. Us being together, is it really worth what my dad could do to your life? How miserable he could make it?”
A coldness permeates deep into my bones. The truth is, I don’t know. But she does, and has made the decision for both of us. And as miserable as her father could make my life, he’ll make hers worse. Neither of us would come out unscathed, adding more scars to a four-year wound.
“Okay,” I reply softly.
Her gaze widens a fraction, surprise—hurt?—flickering in her eyes. Her expression quickly shutters and she nods. “Right.”
I shove my hands in my pockets to steel myself from reaching out to her.
Let her go. It’s for the best.
“Um, I guess I’ll be going then,” she mumbles, her gaze barely meeting mine.
I remain silent and glance pointedly at the door.
Turning to leave, she takes several steps before turning back to me. When she opens her mouth to speak, I cut her off, pretty sure I know what she’s going to say.
“If you’re going to offer to be friends, don’t. I don’t want to be your friend.” There’s no way I can just be friends with her.
I harden my heart at the unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “And if you’re worried about work—”
“I quit,” she says, cutting me off. “I told John today so Sunday was my last day.”
She quit.
Damn, she’s not fooling around. She’s really intent on cutting me out of her life.
I push my hands deeper into my pockets, clenching them tightly. “You quit because of me?”
“It’ll make things easier,” she whispers, her voice wobbling.
Maybe easier for her. I’m already in agony.
“Are you dropping your Monday class too?”
She shakes her head, dark strands of her hair fluttering around her face.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way.”
She reaches her hand out to me, beseeching. “Graham—”
“Goodbye, Emily.” My voice has a ring of finality.
She quickly pulls her hand back, her gaze probing as she looks into my eyes. Whatever she sees must convince her it’s time to go.
“Goodbye, Graham. Take care.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m more alone than when she met me.
Emily
“You broke up with him?” April stares at me flummoxed, her green eyes wide.
“What choice d
id I have after what my father did?” I cry, the threat of tears close as they always seem to be since I left Graham’s apartment this afternoon.
April got back fifteen minutes ago, happy to be home. That is until she stuck her head in my bedroom to say hi and took in my tear-stained face. She immediately rushed to my bed and held my hands as I spilled my guts. Then I proceeded to cry until my well of tears ran dry.
“Did you tell him about the email?” April asks.
“John already told him,” I croak, my throat raw. “And as I thought, it did make things worse.”
She frowns. “He knew why you were breaking up with him and he didn’t try to talk you out of it?”
I slip my hands from hers, pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my shins. The whole time we were talking, I was holding my breath praying he’d fight for me. Fight for us. He hadn’t and I’d left his apartment emotionally wrecked, my heart smashed. And I’m not sure it’ll ever be whole again.
“Nope. He’s leaving after graduation. We’d be breaking up then anyway.”
“You don’t know that,” April chides.
“April, he told me he’s leaving after he graduates. He told me he just got out of a relationship and he doesn’t want to get serious. I knew all of that when we started and I could have handled it if being with me wasn’t going to cost him…everything.”
A soft sigh escapes April’s lips as she studies me. “Have you spoken to your dad?”
Anger sparks inside me and I snort softly. “I called him and of course he denied having anything to do with it.”
“Do you think he’s lying?”
“Of course he’s lying,” I snap. “I told him I never want to speak to him again.”
“Sweetheart, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I’d hated how calm he’d sounded.
“Yes you do. Instead of refiling the charges like you threatened, you’re trying to get him fired from his job.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Don’t call me that! Never call me that again. And I never want to have anything to do with you again.”
Forever With You Page 29