by Casey Hagen
Then the inevitable…her dance instructor pulled her aside and told her she needed to do something about her weight or she wouldn’t make the cut. The words had hurt, but desperate not to lose her safe place, she had dieted. She’d taken diet pills, skipped meals, and fueled her body on energy drinks, and nervousness.
She lost fifteen pounds, but not from her hips and chest.
The curves were there to stay.
The worst part of the whole sordid ordeal was that it took standing before this mirror, torn between past and present, before Piper finally realized that she’d spent all that time wanting to be accepted when she hadn’t even accepted herself.
Trevor had been right. She used her body as a challenge. She hated to acknowledge that, not only because it didn’t cast her in the best light, but because it didn’t matter. Trevor carried hefty demons with him, and was in no way capable of seeing what they might have had together.
She could control herself, her own actions, she could adjust her course and find a way to hold on to who she had been and who she needed to be, but she had to stop dressing for everyone else’s happiness, but her own.
What do I want to wear?
Rain had moved into the area, cascading the city in a cool mist. The temperature, unseasonably cool, had hovered at about sixty-five with a cool breeze making it feel like sixty.
She wanted a big, comfy sweater, leggings, and flats. That’s what she really wanted.
She dug in the back of her closet where she kept her comfortable clothes, or what everyone else would call comfortable clothes. To her they were around the house clothes. She never dressed like this in public.
She stretched on the black leggings and pulled the long, crimson sweater over her head, letting it fall over her curves to where it landed mid-thigh.
She slid on a pair of black leather flats and checked herself out in the mirror. She still had the hour glass shape. The outfit, although comfortable, didn’t hide her assets, it just didn’t highlight them like neon lights in the window of a porn store.
She turned left, then right. She needed to do something with her hair. The messy bun thing had been great in high school, but she had to draw the line somewhere.
She spent another twenty minutes blow drying the waves and letting it fall in its natural pattern. She smoothed a bit of serum over it to keep the frizz at bay. With the laid-back look, she skipped the heavy make-up, too. She used mascara and lip gloss only and called it good. Curious to see what Rafe thought, she grabbed her briefcase and headed to the office.
The nature of her business allowed her a bit of leeway for what time she went in. Her office was nothing more than a small industrial apartment that had enough room for her and Rafe to have desks, art tables, and reams of fabric. To expand, she’d need out of this lease and into another location.
By the time she left home, the worst of the traffic had moved through the city. She hailed a cab and ten minutes later she’d arrived.
Rafe’s head snapped up from where he sat hunched over designs when she opened the door. “Hey, I thought I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow?” He circled around the desk and narrowed his eyes. “What happened to your usual clothes?”
“I got a makeover,” she said, eyeing him.
He rubbed his chin with his hand as he circled her. “Hmmm, I would say if I didn’t know better, he ravaged you and now you’re in love. I’ve never seen this side of you, the natural beauty.” He stopped before her and searched her eyes. “And by the sadness in your eyes, he broke your heart.”
She should have stayed home. She knew Rafe would see through her. A hot tear slid down her cheek followed by two or three more. She didn’t think she had any more left.
She’d been wrong.
“He’s a whore of a man and I’m just another notch on his bedpost.” Her breath caught on the last word and her lower lip trembled.
“He’s a bastard,” Rafe said, enveloping her in a hug. No easy feat when he stood five inches shorter than her.
She buried her face in his shoulder, fighting back a sob. “No, he’s just... I don’t know. Maybe he is, or maybe he’s damaged beyond repair.”
He smoothed her hair from her face and took her cheeks in his hands. “And it’s not your job to fix him. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. It always does. So what else happened?” He took her hand and led her over to her chair.
“They found out about the lie.”
He handed her a cup of coffee and leaned against his art table. “Eeeeh, how did they take it?”
“Who knows? All they managed to do is ask what was going on a couple of times before Trevor hightailed us out of there with no explanation.”
“Ouch. So now what?”
She took a sip of coffee, appreciating the way the warmth soothed her tear-ravaged throat. “Now, I get to work. We have a company to expand. And I have to call Marla.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“This isn’t about me. It’s not about Trevor and that partnership. There are kids hanging in the balance and I can’t let them down.” She caught the dance dress she had left out from the corner of her eye and rounded her desk.
She circled it, the sounds of the city outside of the window fading to nothingness. She angled her head and narrowed her eyes. She eyed the line of the skirt and smiled. She had it!
She grabbed the scissors and passed her coffee to Rafe without a word. Smoothing her hand over the front of the skirt, she shifted to where the middle of the left thigh would be and slit the outer skirt all the way up the waist. She did the same to the other side and flipped them up to the middle layer and slit that up the middle. She cut the base layer on each side to match the leg line again.
Giddy now, laughter bubbled up as she flipped the dress and did the same on the other side. When she picked it up she held it to her and spun. “What do you think?”
Rafe pushed away from his table and ran his fingers horizontally across the skirt. The fabric caught for the briefest of seconds, then cascaded off his fingers. “My God, you figured it out. It practically dances on its own now.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead. “It’s beautiful, Piper. Here, I’ll stitch the ends and get it on a mannequin for you.”
She smiled through the drying tears on her cheeks. “I can do that.”
He ran this thumb over her cheekbone. “You have a phone call to make.”
She wrapped her hand around the one on her cheek and nodded.
“I’ll be back,” he said and headed to the storage closet.
She grabbed the messages on her desk, went through them until she found Marla’s number, and dialed.
“Hello?”
“Marla, it’s Piper.”
“Oh. Well…what can I do for you?”
She couldn’t blame her lackluster response. What she and Trevor had done was dishonest and juvenile. With her feet firmly planted in her world, she saw that with crystal clarity. “Look, I know you must be upset, you have every right to be, but I’m calling about the dancewear. We want to work with you to get those kids outfitted for their dance season.”
“If this is your way of trying to get back into my good graces or help Trevor—” Marla began.
Piper’s hand squeezed the phone a bit tighter. “This is a decision I made before things came to light about Trevor and I.”
“How can I possibly know that?”
Marla loved her girls and to be as persistent as she’d been for the dance group, she loved them all, too. Piper planned to use that to their mutual benefit. “You don’t, but are you going to make the kids go without if I can’t prove it?”
“All right, let’s talk,” Marla said.
Piper breathed a sigh of relief and gave Rafe a thumbs up when he got back into the room.
She loved Trevor. She had since she had been thirteen. She imagined she always would, but he needed to look inside himself and fix what was broken there. She couldn’t do it for him, she had a few cracks of her own to pa
tch. And she had a business to run.
She’d always have Trevor, in a way. In the same way she always had. She had no intention of pursuing more if he didn’t make himself worthy of it. Of her.
***
Drinking had been a fabulous plan.
Had it been water.
Trevor rolled his legs off the side of his bed and clutched his head with both hands, lest it roll away on him.
The fifth whisky had been a bad idea. Hell, the way his head pounded, the fourth might have been a bad idea, too.
He pushed himself onto his unsteady legs and made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water and aspirin. Once he’d downed three, he headed for the shower. The tile and glass enclosure had room for a baseball team. A tile bench followed along two walls in an L. He had six shower heads.
He wanted to sit, but feared he’d never get back up so he leaned against the cool tile and let the spray work its magic on his muscles until he’d become partially human again.
The problem with feeling human? Piper jumped right back into his mind with startling force. He rubbed his chest, right over his heart with his closed fist, as if he could massage away the ache. Before he’d called her brother to enlist her help, he had her. He hadn’t seen her in years, but he could see her, and they’d be on good terms.
The words he hurled at her the day before came back to him with startling clarity.
They’d never be okay again.
He’d carry this ache forever.
Before he could lie to himself. He could tell himself that he could reach out to her anytime. Maybe one day they could see each other. At some point, maybe they’d have a chance at something.
It wasn’t much. When he stopped to think about it, it was really quite pathetic, but he held onto the thought in the back of his mind like a lifeline to that night with her. For how important the evening had become to him, one would think it had been his prom.
The water started to run cold so he left the shower in search of some much-needed caffeine. He checked his cell, but there had been nothing there from Piper.
Of course there wasn’t.
He’d been a dick, and if he had a sister and a man talked to her the way he had talked to Piper, Trevor would have kicked his ass.
He didn’t show a missed call, but the voicemail icon popped up in the corner of his phone. He smiled.
He hit the command for his voicemail and waited. Despite wanting to hear Piper’s voice, it was Neil Cartwright’s in the recording, returning Trevor’s call.
Trevor hit the call back button and waited.
“Trevor! I’m glad you called.”
“Of course, I’m hoping you’re finally ready to put your advertising dollars in the right place,” Trevor said.
“We’re definitely ready to make something happen. I was hoping we could set up a meeting this week.”
Hopefully Trevor still had a job, or he’d make a giant ass of himself. Even more so than the ass he made of himself yesterday. “That’d be great, I can meet with you tomorrow if that works.”
“That’s perfect,” Neil said.
“Excellent. We can go over just what you’re looking for and I can put a proposal together for you.”
“We don’t need the proposal.”
Trevor glanced around his penthouse. Did he hear him right? “Listen, I’m going to level with you. I didn’t have the best night last night so I think I might be a bit confused. If you aren’t looking for a proposal, what is the meeting for?”
Neil laughed. “We’re not taking proposals, you’re in. As for the lady trouble…” he said as if he had a crystal ball dialed right to Trevor’s fuck ups. “I’ve had a few nights like that of my own. I hope she was worth it.”
“She’s always been worth it, but now…uh, it’s complicated. Listen, about the proposal thing, are you sure?”
“Positive. I guess you need to figure out a way to uncomplicate it. I’ve been there. Sabrina made me work in ways I’d never had to before, but once I caught her? Never looked back.”
“I think this one might be beyond catching. I blew it.”
“You’re going to have to grovel, man, and it’s going to be ugly.”
Trevor laughed. “Yeah, thanks for that.”
“Welcome to the club.”
“Do I get a pin or something?”
“Not enough money in the budget for pins,” Neil joked.
For the first time since his plan turned to shit, Trevor glimpsed a trickle of light at the end of the tunnel. “Hey, in all seriousness, why me? For the job?”
“I watched you at that party, the way you put people at ease. You were bombarded with know-it-alls that night making suggestions to you about ad accounts you had secured. Carter hit you with four different marketing proposals for Dash Foods and you dissected every single one on the fly. Your mind is fast, you’re worth the money, and we both know it wasn’t so long ago that my company had serious issues. I’m counting on you to propel us away from our rocky history and into further success.”
He could only launch them to the next level if he could hold on to his job. “Listen, any chance you can actually get together today and we can get the ball rolling?” Trevor asked.
“Sure, what time works for you?”
“Anytime this afternoon is perfect.”
“Meet me here at two then,” Neil said.
They hung up and Trevor had a plan of action. He’d meet Neil and get a contract signed for William and Stensky’s services, and first thing Tuesday morning he’d present it to Davidson and hope it was enough to save his ass.
Hell, at this point, he couldn’t even focus on the partnership, he just needed to worry about keeping a paycheck.
If he could keep his job, he could throw himself into his work, and if he was lucky, forget about Piper.
Chapter 12
Trevor avoided the liquor this time around. He needed to be clear-headed and on his toes for his first day back. He’d decided he would head to Davidson’s office instead of waiting to see if he’d be called in.
And he’d go in with an advantage.
He went through his normal routine, hyperaware of every step of his morning, and how this might be the last morning he followed this schedule.
He found Davidson’s secretary, Grace, at her desk typing away on her computer. “Hi, Grace. Is Davidson in?”
“He sure is. Let me see if he’s available.” She called his line and after a few quiet words, hung up. “You can go on in,” she said with the same warm smile she had always greeted him with. Apparently, she hadn’t heard.
A nice send off for his funeral.
He opened the door and clicked it closed behind him. He didn’t pause before turning to face his boss. Well, not much anyway.
“Mr. Williams,” Trevor said by way of greeting.
Davidson’s grave expression left Trevor little hope. He stood and leaned over his desk, his palms flat on the wood surface. “You want to tell me what in hell got into you with that stunt you pulled this weekend?”
“Well, I—”
“Haven’t I been good to you?”
“Yes, bu—”
“Don’t I pay you well and give you a lot of leeway to do your job as you see fit?”
“Yes, it’s just that—”
“Haven’t I always been a fair boss?”
“No,” Trevor said.
“No?” Davidson said, standing upright, resting his hands on his hips.
“I spent my weekend lying to you. I’m not doing it anymore. I’m never lying to anyone again. So, the answer is, no, you haven’t always been fair.”
Davidson stared at Trevor, his chin jutting out. “Well, out with it then, how have I not been fair?”
“I’ve given this company my all for four years. I’ve brought in the most accounts, and by far the most money. I’ve gone so far as to turn myself into someone unrecognizable to do it. You paid back that loyalty by making it clear that if I wasn’t coupled, I’d be exemp
t from the chance at partner.”
Trevor held his ground, kept his back straight and his shoulders back. No way in hell would he grovel. He wouldn’t resort to a war of words to talk Davidson into giving him a shot. He’d do this like a man. He’d do this the way old Trevor would have done it.
After a good fifteen seconds of silence where Trevor began to think all was lost, Davidson sagged before him and eased himself back into his chair. “You’re not telling me anything Marla didn’t already give me an earful on.”
Huh?
“Wait, she helped you plan this whole thing. Why did she give you an earful?”
“She helped me plan it, but she didn’t know it was a condition of promotion. She thought I had offered up a weekend getaway for my best employees. She thought it’d be fun for everyone to get to know each other instead of taking off in different directions.”
“Are you saying that you lied?”
Davidson slapped a hand against his leather armrest in frustration. “Yes, damn it. I lied. And I got caught.”
“But why?”
Davidson scratched his chin, leaned forward, and folded his hands. “Because you’ve always been my favorite and I needed to level the playing field a bit to make sure my judgment wasn’t clouded.”
Trevor stepped up, pulled out a chair, and gestured to it. “Do you mind if I sit?”
Davidson waved a hand. “No, no. Go ahead.”
“As near as I can tell, you and I are idiots,” Trevor said.
Davidson nodded his head. “Yup.”
“And I still have a job?” Trevor asked.
“Yeah, but I’ll tell you something, I wanted to fire you. Marla talked me down.”
“So, you’re saying, at bare minimum, I owe Marla flowers?”
“Lilies are her favorite,” Davidson said.
“Understood.”
“She pointed out that you were doing what you’ve been doing for four years…anything possible to get the job done. I find I like your determination when it’s directed at potential clients, but not at me.”
Trevor nodded his head up and down. “Fair enough.”