Blacklist

by Geneva Lee

  Pushing my way through the crowd, I ignore Cyrus waving to me from across the lawn. He’s with Poppy and it looks like they’re both reconsidering their relationship. The last thing I need is to watch those two make out all night. It’s easy to pretend I don’t hear them. The party is loud. Despite the October chill, more than a few people have stripped down and jumped in the pool. I leave the bedlam behind me. The farther I get from the patio heaters and tent, the colder the night becomes. The music and shouts fade behind me as night swallows me. I should have grabbed my jacket. There’s no fucking way I’m going back for it. When I reach the front drive, I stop and stare at the house for a minute. Every light is on. The party probably spilled inside a long time ago. All this house for what? A couple rich assholes? Why had I ever believed she saw something in me? She came from this. I barely own my last name.

  I shove my hands in my pockets and start down the long drive. I’ll be frozen by the time I reach campus, but, at least, I’ll be numb. In my head, a list starts to form. I need to go to campus housing and request a new room. Cyrus is fine. It’s not his fault. But I don’t want to see any of them again. Then I lay low, focus on my work, finish the fucking year. By then, I’ll have forgotten her and she’ll have moved on to whatever plaything she spots next. Maybe she’ll even grow up and go to London like she wants.

  I hope she does.

  Because then she’ll be far, far away. From me. From them. From whatever’s turned her into this raging bitch.

  “Sterling!” she calls from behind me.

  I turn to the sound of her voice. Fuck, I am just her little lapdog, aren’t I?

  “Where are you going?” she calls when I keep walking.

  I don’t answer. I keep walking.

  There’s a pause and I think she’s given up. But then I hear her soft plea, “Don’t leave me. You promised you’d stay.”

  I want to keep walking. I want to pretend I don’t hear the anguished request. Instead, I turn and follow the scattered pieces of my heart leading me back to her.

  34

  Adair

  Present Day

  I flow into Windfall that afternoon, still in shock over today’s turn of events. When I woke up in Sterling’s bed, I hadn’t known what to think. I left feeling worse, confused and unsure where my past ended and my present began. Then destiny dropped a present in my lap: a job.

  It’s embarrassing to think it’s my first real job. I’ve volunteered for years, but it’s not the same. Bluebird offered me a small salary that I don’t need yet. But it’s the first honest money I’ve ever made. I know exactly what I’m going to do with it. Half to the shelter. The other half saved in a college fund for Ellie. I won’t pretend her future is safe with MacLaine Media on the line. I’m not sure that Malcolm or Ginny are ready to admit that, and I can’t trust them to think about anyone but themselves. I won’t let her wind up like me, completely dependent on her father or any man.

  A towering arrangement of magnolia blossoms wobbles into the foyer. I peer around it to find Felix holding the vase.

  “These are beautiful,” I murmur as he places them on a table. I lean down to breathe in their creamy vanilla aroma. It’s the slight tang of lemon hiding under it that I love though. My mom always told me to wear magnolia perfume because Southern women might be sweet but they still know how to bite.

  Felix hands me a card with a wink. “It looks like you have an admirer.”

  My fingers tremble as I take it. Most men send roses. There’s one man that knows I love magnolias. I can’t bring myself to break the seal. I’m not sure what I want that card to say.

  And there’s other things I need to confront. “I want to talk to you about Ellie.”

  We’ve been avoiding each other for the most part. Since daddy put Felix in charge of Ellie’s inheritance, Felix has continued to serve as the family butler. We can’t keep pretending that the will didn’t change things.

  The smile slips from his face, but he nods. “I thought you might.”

  “There’s some things that we should discuss,” I begin.

  “You can do that with me,” Malcolm interrupts before I can tell Felix my plans. It’s not like him to be home this early. His shirt sleeves are rolled to his elbows. Judging from his bloodshot eyes, he’s already on his second drink of the afternoon.

  “Tough day at the office?” I ask.

  “No, long night followed by an even longer morning,” he says. Clearly, he didn’t appreciate me sending him home to his wife and daughter yesterday. He lists a bit on his feet, and I worry he’ll tip over on the marble floor.

  “Maybe you should slow down before dinner,” I suggest.

  “Care to tell me where you’ve been?” he asks.

  I slip the envelope into my purse and brace for impact. There’s no way I’m explaining myself to him. Malcolm may think he can replace our father as head of house, but I’m done living under a man’s thumb. “I’m an adult. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

  “Exactly! I don’t care where you were last night,” he spits back. He lowers his voice so that it won’t echo in the foyer. “You could afford me the same courtesy in the future.”

  “I’m not the one who’s married,” I say, “and cheating on his wife!”

  Felix shows no sign of surprise at this revelation. He busies himself with arranging the blossoms. As usual, he’s here blending into the background. He’s always been more than a keeper of the kitchen and schedules and party plans. He’s a keeper of our secrets. Our own professional guardian hired by our mother to watch over us. I often think mom would be disappointed in us, because I know Felix is.

  “Goddammit, Adair!” Malcolm storms to daddy’s office and I’m right behind him. He points behind me. “Shut the door.”

  I do so because, unlike Malcolm, I know that Felix is listening. And where Felix is, Ellie is usually nearby. She doesn’t need to hear us argue.

  “What are you freaking about out about now?” I ask.

  “I got a call this afternoon from Trish McHugh at Bluebird Press,” he tells me. “She wanted to touch base with me about business given our father’s passing. By the way, she sends her condolences.”

  My hand finds the smooth side of the bookshelf and I lean into it.

  He continues, his eyes hard and dark like our father’s would be if he were here. “She also wanted to make certain that there’s not going to be an interruption of ownership given that she just hired a new editor.”

  “I don’t see how any of this involves you,” I say. “Daddy left Bluebird to me.”

  “Did you tell her that?” he asks. “I can’t imagine there are many Adairs out there with English degrees looking for editorial jobs in downtown Nashville.”

  I shrug, trying to act casual. “You might be surprised. It’s not like there’s a lot of work for English majors.”

  “Don’t sass me,” he says, channeling Daddy even more. I half-expect him to whip off his belt and drive the point home.

  Not that I would let him. Not that anyone will ever touch me that way again. I push away from the bookshelf, forcing myself to stand firmly on my feet. I will not back down to him. Not today. Not ever. “You mind your business and I’ll mind mine. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Says the slut getting in bed with Sterling Ford,” he says.

  “You have no idea what’s going on. You don’t even know who he is.” I let one man slander Sterling in this office before. I won’t do it again.

  “And you do?”

  “Do you know what’s going to ruin you?” I step toward him to deliver one final blow before I leave him and this house and this life behind. “The same thing that ruined daddy. Your fucking pride. Your arrogance. You can’t see beyond your own shadow because you’re too certain of every move you make.”

  “That arrogance built us this company.”

  “That arrogance lost us this company and killed our mother,” I explode.

  Malcolm gives a disgusted shake of his
head. “You’ll never forgive him for that will you?”

  “Why would I? He never apologized.” How can he still not understand?

  “You’re selfish and spoiled. You never understood sacrificing for the good of the family.”

  “I haven’t sacrificed?” I ask softly. Doesn’t he see that being here now is proof that I’ve given up everything for this family? “All I care about is this family. Can you say the same?”

  “Why don’t you say what you really mean? I’ve never cared about the right members of this family.” Hate drips from his words as slow and sticky as molasses. It’s in his blood. He was born poisoned with it.

  “Felix took care of you and El—”

  “I don’t have as liberal of view of who is a MacLaine as you do.”

  “I can’t do this anymore.” I shake my head. It’s swimming with all the mistakes we’ve made. Mistakes we keep making. It’s too much. “I can’t just sit by and watch you cling to this lie about what the MacLaine name means. What it stands for.”

  “So, you’re going to pick up a hammer and start destroying it yourself?”

  “Sometimes it’s better to tear down what’s broken than to waste time fixing what can’t be saved.” I wait for him to respond. When he doesn’t, I walk to the door.

  He finds his voice as my hand touches the knob. “If you walk out of this house, don’t come back.”

  It’s not the first time I’ve heard that in this room. But it’s going to be the last.

  “This was never my house. It’s not yours either. Wear your crown, rule your false empire, but don’t forget that it’s all made of glass.”

  I leave Magnolia Lane, passing by houses that would open their doors for me in a heartbeat. I’m always welcome in Valmont, but everything here has a cost. I’ve been in debt to this place and this life long enough. Later, I might regret leaving with nothing but the Roadster and the bottle of champagne I’d brought home to celebrate my new job.

  There’s nothing to celebrate. Now that Trish knows the truth, she won’t want me there. But she’ll feel obligated to keep the boss or scared that I’ll fire her. I never wanted a pity job. I wanted something of my own.

  It’s all I’ll ever want.

  I drive toward Nashville with no destination in mind. By the time I realize where I’m headed, I’m nearly there. I don’t know why I drove here. It’s like Sterling is a planet and I’m caught in his orbit. I can’t move away from him. I can’t find my own path. Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I should stop fighting it.

  I pull into the parking garage at Twelve and South to consider my options. I can check into the Eaton, which would be reasonable. I can call Poppy. Another rational option. I can drive around and pretend that I know where I’m going. Less rational, but still more reasonable than running to him after this morning. I turn off the car anyway.

  Don’t let a day be coal, I hear mom saying. Turn it into a diamond.

  Maybe that doesn’t just apply to days. Maybe it applies to people, too.

  Everything in my body tells me this is the right place to be. I don’t want to trust Sterling. I don’t want to need him. But I can’t deny that he’s the only person who’s ever truly understood me. Maybe that doesn’t make us friends. Maybe some people wouldn’t call that love. It’s the only kind I’ve ever known, and right now, I need someone who sees me.

  I’m nearly to the parking garage’s elevator when I remember the card in my purse. I know it’s from him, just like I knew this moment was inevitable when he showed up in the rain at my daddy’s funeral. The crash. The collision. The inescapable force that draws us together time and time again.

  In the cement parking garage, the overhead lights flicker as I slip out the card.

  Four simple words scrawled in familiar handwriting.

  Four simple words that answer my questions. Four simple words that don’t belong to another soul. They’re ours and always have been. Sterling doesn’t need to say I love you. That’s not what mattered to us then. It’s not what matters now. Reading the card makes it easy to press the call button on the elevator. I watch every floor light up, my certainty build with each.

  Zeus is at the door before I manage to knock. I can hear him whining with excitement. Sterling’s voice follows from inside, commanding him to calm down. He opens the door before I reach it. For just one moment our eyes meet, and it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to coming home.

  “I knew the flowers would…” The words die from his lips when he stops to really look at me. I know he sees the tear stains on my cheeks and my red nose. I know he sees what’s under that, too. Pain and defeat and exhaustion. He’s at my side then, leading me to the couch. I sit. He stands. “What happened, Lucky?”

  The story falls out of me in pieces. I don’t cry. I just speak absently, staring beyond him while trying to see a future that might never be in reach. When I finally get to the part where Malcolm tells me to get out, Sterling takes a seat next to me on the couch. Zeus lays his massive head on my knees. I’m not sure which one looks more concerned.

  “You can stay here,” he says without hesitation.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I know that because I want to stay, and I don’t have the best instincts of late.

  “I meant what I said earlier today. I know it came out shitty,” he adds when I startle. “I’m not taking this farther then you ask me to. What I mean is that I don’t expect anything if you stay.”

  Maybe I’m an idiot, because I believe him. There’s a million reasons not to trust him. It’s stupid considering I don’t know where he’s been all these years and who he really is anymore.

  And none of that matters.

  Because he’s Sterling and I’m Adair and some things—even when they don’t make sense—are meant to be.

  “I’m sorry,” I say in a quiet voice.

  His eyebrow arches. “For what?”

  “Do you want the whole list?” I ask. “It could take a while.”

  He hesitates. A tempest rages in his blue eyes, pulling him in every direction. Pushing him toward me and wrenching him away. I wish I could be his calm—the safe place he seeks instead of the storm. His Adam’s apple slides drawing attention to the stubble peppering his jawline. I’ve been so busy thinking about the boy I used to know that I didn’t see the man in front of me. Now that I do, I see what I didn’t before: I see what drives him.

  And it breaks my heart.

  “I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know why I came here,” I say, the words tripping on my tongue, caught in the confusion that clouds me.

  “That’s what we do,” he murmurs. He’s so close that I swear I feel him on my skin even though we aren’t touching. “We run back to each other.”

  We did once. We broke each other then. We rebuilt ourselves, but why? So we can destroy each other again?

  I push and he pulls and we break— and maybe that’s why we’ll never fix us.

  Or maybe it’s because last time, he didn’t run back. I didn’t rebuild. We’ve lived shattered lives and told ourselves it made us stronger.

  “Why did you leave?” I search his face for the answer I’ve needed for years.

  Sterling brushes a thumb over my lower lip. His touch is a lightning strike and there’s nowhere for me to hide. Fire ignites on contact, traveling through me and exploding into flames. He moves closer, his breath warm and sweet on my face. “Why did you stay?”

  Getting answers from him requires admitting my own secrets. That’s not something I’m willing to do—not even for him.

  “No questions,” I say, forcing myself to add, “it’s not part of the arrangement.”

  “I can’t seem to keep track of all the rules.” He withdraws his hand, and I miss him instantly. I ache for him.

  I reach for his hand and bring it back to my face. Turning my cheek into it, I plant a kiss on the mound of his palm. “Okay. How’s this? We break one rule for every new one I make.”

  “What rule are
we going to break first, Lucky?” And then he’s kissing me, because he knows which rule we can’t follow a second longer.

  We tear the walls we’ve built down and step into the wreckage together. I’ve been suffocating behind my barricades for years, and he’s air. He’s life, not destruction. He’s beautiful chaos upending my world and setting me free.

  I’d forgotten how good he tastes.

  Strong arms slide under me and lift me. We move together instinctually. My legs wrap around his waist. My arms tangle around his neck. We’re on a bed and I don’t remember getting there. Only him. Only this. He’s not a boy. He’s a man. I feel the proof of it on my fingertips. I fumble for his belt, but he pushes my hand away and smiles. It’s unguarded. Vulnerable. Stripped to show he’s here with me. All of him. He lifts my arms and pins our clasped hands over my head. When his mouth meets mine again, he lingers with slow lips. He whispers into the kiss. “This is just the first course, Lucky. I want to take my time. I need to savor ever fucking inch of you. I need to taste you.”

  Sterling’s attention slides along my neck, his lips murmuring wicked promises as he descends. Fabric snaps and I’m vaguely aware that he’s ripped something off of me. My dress falls open and finally — blessedly – my skin meets his. He pauses at my stomach and suddenly, I’m painfully aware that I’m not the girl he fell in love with. I know what he sees: the tiny, silvery lines and soft skin. I shrink, trying to hide my flaws but there’s nowhere to run.

  “Don’t you dare hide,” he says in a gruff voice. Sterling lifts his head from his devotions and blue eyes pierce through me.

  “I know I don’t look…I know I’m not the girl you…before…” I struggle to put words to my sudden and crippling self-awareness.

  He kisses my belly. “I don’t want that girl. I want you. I’ve never wanted any one like I want you right here and right now.” Pushing onto his hands, he brings his face to hover over mine. “The only thing I ever needed was more of you and, Lucky, I got my wish.”