How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1)

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How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1) Page 28

by London Casey


  She played the game and played it damn perfect. She caught me with my pants down in a sense. Moving in next door to me. Coming to the strip club. Playing my own vibes against me. Knowing Vince was going to throw the marriage thing on the table. She knew it all… she knew how to get to me and break me.

  The crazy good sex…

  I gritted my teeth and punched the door to leave the building.

  Outside the busy streets were loud enough to break up some of the thoughts in my head.

  Callie was right behind me though.

  “You don’t know what you saw,” she said.

  I turned and looked at her.

  “You’re red faced,” I said. “You got caught.”

  “No, I didn’t,” she said. “Vince was-”

  “Writing you a check for what you’d done,” I said. “I get it now, Callie. Maybe you two deserve each other.”

  “I would never… with Vince? Who do you think I am?”

  “You tell me,” I said. “You were quick to marry me for money, right? You were quick to let me fuck you how many times? Just turning that screw to get what you wanted. I see it all now, Callie. You just want control. That’s it. I get it. That’s who you are. I should have seen it coming, but I got distracted. You played it good, sweetie.”

  “There was nothing to play!” she yelled. “Everything you feel, I feel. I swear on my life, Jackson. This is real. This isn’t-”

  “It’s too late,” I said. “Save it. I don’t want to hear a fucking thing.”

  “You really think that this was a setup?” Callie asked. “You know me, Jackson. You know the real me. I showed you who I was.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. The woman staying late to get paid by Vince. So he could fuck me over. Fuck me out of my father’s company. And so you could open your legs and get the promotion you’ve always wanted. Congrats, Callie. Enjoy it.”

  I clapped my hands.

  “Fuck you,” she said. “You have no idea what you just saw. I… I’m in love with you, Jackson. That up there was-”

  “You love me?” I asked. I laughed. “The game is over, Callie. I’m waving the white flag. You got what you wanted. You win. You beat me. I’m done. You get the money. You get the promotion. Most of all, you get to watch me walk away. You win.”

  “Jackson…”

  I darted out into the street and cut off the slow-moving traffic.

  Horns blared and someone called me an asshole.

  I didn’t care.

  I just had to walk away.

  And I sure as fuck wasn’t going back to my apartment.

  I needed to distance myself from Callie.

  For good.

  This wasn’t a divorce.

  This was the destruction of my heart.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Callie

  I couldn’t find Jackson anywhere.

  Not that I really knew many places to look for him or people to contact to find him. He had his core group of friends that he told me about. A few I had met here and there when they stopped by the office. Of course there was Liam and Miranda. We went to dinner with them.

  But I didn’t have anyone’s phone number.

  I went from my apartment to his.

  After knocking for a little bit, I left the apartment building and got a ride to the gym where he worked out. I told the young, beefy guy behind the counter that I was looking for Jackson and there was an emergency. He hadn’t seen Jackson but he let me look around.

  I walked through the maze of sweaty people looking for Jackson.

  No luck.

  From the gym I went back to the apartment.

  Then to his apartment again.

  If I wanted to get inside…

  I can go inside and find a laptop or something. If he has his texts hooked up from his phone to his laptop… or I could jump on social media and…

  I stopped myself.

  Jackson didn’t want to be found.

  That was the truth.

  He came to the office to see me and saw something horrible.

  Something that was my fault.

  I stood there and watched Vince write the check to me. I stood there and listened to everything he had to say. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, and in hindsight, I should have kicked Vince in the balls and walked out of the office.

  But at that moment, I was in shock with what he was doing and saying.

  I always knew Vince was an asshole. He wore that proud and didn’t care who called him that. What I didn’t know was that he had been setting Jackson up all along. He wanted to hurt his own nephew. He wanted to screw over his own family. I wasn’t sure how the company ended up in Vince’s hands, but it was pretty obvious Vince didn’t like the idea of Jackson ever taking it over.

  All of it should have been clearer.

  I was just too busy worrying about myself.

  And why not?

  The second Vince had a moment alone with me, what did he do?

  He made a move on me. He touched me. He put his mouth to my mouth as though I was going to be okay with it. Because men like Vince thought it was okay to do that. They didn’t give a shit about women or their feelings or their rights or what they wanted or didn’t want. That’s why Vince loved the strip club. It was where his needs were met through transactions.

  Except I couldn’t be bought or sold. That wasn’t my business.

  Then on top of that, Jackson refused to give me a second to explain what had really happened. He just instantly assumed I was in on Vince’s plan. That I was going to, what, fuck Vince to get money and a promotion?

  By the time I got back to my apartment, I was a mess. I began to question every decision I ever made as an adult woman. Which was wrong. I was a victim in this situation. I did nothing wrong. I worked hard, I kept myself as honest as anyone around me, and I never once gave the impression to Vince that I wanted him.

  I would never…

  I sat on the couch, put my face into my hands and began to cry.

  Of course I would fall in love with someone like Jackson, only to have him think it wasn’t real. And why would he? I was the one who jumped at the chance to marry him and do the whole fake thing… for money.

  Maybe I was exactly what both Jackson and Vince thought.

  I reached for a blanket and curled up on the couch.

  I tucked myself in like I was a little girl and a thunderstorm was passing by.

  I hated thunderstorms.

  And I hated the way I felt right then.

  Empty. Alone.

  In love.

  “Callie? Callie… open your eyes…”

  I did open my eyes. And Misha stood over me.

  I sat up and wrapped the blanket around me.

  The sunlight poured into the apartment and smacked me around.

  I felt hungover but I hadn’t had a sip to drink the night before.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Do you know what time it is?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, you’re late. And shit is hitting the fan at work.”

  “What?” I asked. I blinked to let my eyes adjust. They were sore from crying so much. “What… is it Jackson? Is he at the office?”

  I jumped up and dropped the blanket.

  I grabbed Misha’s arms.

  Her eyes opened big. “Your breath smells horrible. What happened last night?”

  “Misha. Is Jackson there?”

  “No,” she said. “Why… what’s going on?”

  I shook my head. “It’s… wait. How is shit hitting the fan at the office?”

  “Vince said… wait… you don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Vince has security in your office. Cleaning your stuff out.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “You’re fired, Callie.”

  “Fired?” I asked, almost coughing.

  “He said you were drunk at work,” Misha said. “And that you started acting in
appropriate. He said…” Misha rocked her head back and forth. “He said you tried to kiss him. That you started to ask him to sleep with you. That you offered your body in exchange for the promotion.”

  “That fucker,” I growled. “That’s such a fucking lie. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I swear,” Misha said. “You didn’t show up and I didn’t know what was going on. So I hurried over here. Callie, what the hell is going on?”

  I walked away from Misha.

  My body was out of tears.

  “It’s all over, Misha,” I said.

  “What is?”

  “Everything,” I said. “You should just go back to the office. Save your job.”

  “I don’t want that job without you,” she said.

  I looked at her. “Misha, please, don’t do this. Don’t be some kind of hero for me. I’m not worth it. Trust me, I am so not worth it.”

  “Tell me what’s happening right now,” she said.

  “Just go.”

  I reached for the coffee to make some and Misha punched the bag out of my hand.

  Then she took a handful of my hair and twisted it.

  She pulled and put her face to mine.

  “You listen up, bitch,” she said. “I’ve worked my ass off for you for a long time. And you think you’re just going to cut me out when something bad is happening? I’ll cut your face right now.”

  She opened her hand.

  I swallowed hard. “Wow, Misha.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “Now my heart is racing.”

  “Okay… you win. Vince made a move on me. He wanted to give me the bonus and wanted me to fuck him. He wanted me and him to crush Jackson’s heart. That’s what happened. And then Jackson saw some of it. From his point of view, it looked really bad. I can’t find Jackson now. And I can’t live without him. I don’t want the job, Misha. I don’t want the bonus. I don’t want the promotion. I don’t want to live my life competing anymore. I want to be with Jackson. I love him. Okay? I fell in love with him. And now he thinks it was part of some bigger plan to hurt him.”

  Misha jumped at me and threw her arms around me.

  I sucked in a breath.

  “Oh, Callie, finally,” she whispered.

  “Finally?”

  “You and Jackson have been eye fucking each other for years. And the eye fucking went to something else too. I’ve been waiting patiently for you two to finally realize it was something real.”

  “Misha,” I said. “It’s over. He thinks I was part of Vince’s plan. I’m done.”

  “Don’t say that,” she said. “Just talk to him.”

  “He doesn’t want to talk to me,” I said. “He won’t answer my calls. Or my texts. I don’t know where he is. He’s not going to choose me over his family. Look at what Vince is doing right now. He’s destroying my reputation. Security…?”

  Misha nodded. “Yeah. They’re cleaning the office out.”

  “Everyone watching?”

  “Yeah,” Misha said.

  “There’s my point. I’ll look like some cheap slut to the office and even worse to Jackson.”

  “No,” Misha said. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll fight back.”

  “Misha, I’m tired,” I said. “Not just sleepy tired. But tired. Tired. I don’t want to do it anymore. Please go back to the office and save your job.”

  “I’m going back to see what’s happening,” Misha said. “But I’m quitting today.”

  “Misha…”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she said.

  “If you see Jackson…”

  “I’ll let you know,” she said. “Please don’t give up on this, Callie.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Misha exited my apartment and I grabbed the counter.

  My body found some fresh tears to spill.

  I lost my husband.

  I lost the man I loved.

  I lost my job.

  I lost my career.

  But the worst part…

  My will to fight back was drained.

  I spent the day wrapped in the same blanket in the same spot on the couch and just watched movies. I didn’t go the sappy chick flick route. Instead, I found scary movies to watch. Terrible slasher movies. In a messed-up way, I started to cheer for the bad guys and monsters in the movies. Watching people trying to run for their lives, never able to outrun the supernatural.

  My phone started to ring and I jumped.

  It was just Mom calling.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said.

  “I can feel it,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Something is wrong.”

  “Mom…”

  “No, don’t give me that. I’ve been uneasy all day today. I took a nap and tried to clear some channels but I can’t. I had a dream about you, Callie.”

  “Mom, listen to me…”

  “You were in a white dress,” she said. “Sitting alone in a corner. You were crying. Something is wrong. What’s happening?”

  I shut my eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Is it Jackson?”

  “I’m not answering that.”

  “Marriage is tough, Callie.”

  “Please, Mom…”

  “No. I’m not going to let you mess it up.”

  The final wire was cut.

  That little comment - harmless or not - was it.

  I leaned forward and took a deep breath.

  “It was fake,” I said.

  “What?”

  I stood up. “The marriage was fake, Mom. So your rocks and energy talk was all wrong. Okay? Jackson and I were offered a bonus to get married.”

  “Callie, what are you saying?”

  “We went to a strip club and got drunk,” I said. “Our boss offered us one million dollars to get married. And we had to make sure everyone believed it was real. That’s what I’m saying. So all your marriage talk was garbage. You, Lake, Sunny, and Joni. It was all fake. Jackson and I were never a real thing.”

  “I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” she said.

  “Don’t. It’s the truth. And now it’s over.”

  “That’s why you’re hurting,” Mom said. “Because it was real to you.”

  “No,” I said.

  “You’re lying to me.”

  I turned my head and saw the stack of folders.

  All the information about Mom’s business.

  Everything Jackson had done… spending an entire night coming up with a plan to save Mom’s business. Not for her, but for me. He wanted Mom to leave me alone. He knew she was a burden…

  My teeth chattered for a second.

  “Lying?” I asked. “You’ve been lying for years, Mom.”

  Callie, no. Not like this. Please not like this. Don’t do this now…

  “You’re a mess, Callie,” Mom said. “Come down to the shop. I can help.”

  “What are you going to do?” I asked. “Make some tea? I was the one who kept us alive. I was the one who worked and came up with ideas to get by. You were asleep and I was awake. I was twelve and trying to find a way to negotiate our lease so we wouldn’t get kicked out. Or how about the lemonade stand? Do you remember that?”

  “Callie…”

  “No. I’ve paid your car payments. I’ve paid your taxes. I’ve covered shortages for your business. Over and over.”

  “I never asked-”

  “Yes, you did,” I said. “You call me and act stupid. Why do I have to pay this each month? It’s called a fucking car loan. And the worst part is, if I stopped helping, you’d lose everything and end up at my door.”

  I was losing myself.

  I couldn’t stop staring at the folders.

  All Jackson wanted to do was help.

  I pushed him away.

  “Are you done now?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s the thing… I am done. I am done with everything.”

  “Your energies are crossed, Callie,” Mom
said. “I can help. When you’re ready. Everything will make sense in time.”

  I shook my head.

  I hung up the call and threw my phone behind me.

  I reached for one of the folders.

  Then I screamed.

  I screamed like I had just seen a spider crawling across the floor.

  I pushed all the folders off the table and fell to my knees.

  “Jackson,” I whispered. “Where the fuck are you? You’re supposed to be here to catch me…”

  I ended up on my butt on the floor.

  My blanket was out of reach so I hugged my knees.

  I shut my eyes.

  I pictured Jackson naked, holding a cup of coffee in each hand, wiggling his hips, slapping his cock side to side, smiling at me.

  That’s all I wanted.

  Coffee. Cock. And Jackson.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Jackson

  Callie stopped texting, and I didn’t blame her.

  If I wasn’t going to respond, why keep trying, right?

  I had my own ways of dealing with pain and grief and being let down. Or maybe it was simply embarrassment. That I let myself go too far this time. I inched my guard down long enough to look around at the idea of love and it seemed right.

  The only good was that it happened when it did. We weren’t together for a year or longer. We hadn’t moved in together or did something drastic to our lives.

  Except getting married, right?

  I looked at my left hand.

  I still wore the ring.

  Like a complete moron.

  I growled and splashed cold water on my face and refused to look at myself in the mirror. If I did, my eyes would beg me to call her. To text her back. I couldn’t do that. Just the thought of her voice made me want to throw my entire life into the air for her.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  That wasn’t who I was. Ever.

  I hung up the bathroom towel after drying my face.

  I had to do it the right way or else Miranda would lay into Liam and Liam would have to have a talk with me.

  Liam was my first call.

  I should have called Lincoln.

  He had a nicer bachelor pad type place.

  And the keyword there was bachelor. Which translated to no Miranda.

 

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