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Love Me Like I Love You

Page 135

by Willow Winters


  “Henry, tell me one nice thing that Martina did for you this week?”

  “She put the trash out when it was my turn,” I state. “It’s a small detail, but it counts.”

  Surprisingly, I’ve discovered that sending chocolate covered strawberries is more meaningful than buying a diamond tennis bracelet. Every small detail matters, like when someone brings you coffee in the morning, along with a clean shirt because you spent the entire night at the office. Like bringing you food from your favorite restaurant, because you haven’t taken a break since you arrived at work at five in the morning. Or just teaching you how to love because you’re emotionally impaired.

  That’s Sophia. She’s been doing that for me for years. How can I not be in love with her?

  “Martina, how are things between you two?”

  “Much better,” she says, and she’s right.

  It’s become easy to speak to her. She’s no longer expecting us to serve her. Then again, she’s gone most of the day. She leaves in the morning, and she’s not back until late at night. Leyla and Blaire don't have as many issues as they used to have with her, but I’m guessing it’s because Martina is getting along with Sophia. I’m unsure how to feel about the latter.

  “You still have six more weeks of counseling before you can make a decision about your future. When we started, you said that no matter what, you’d be marrying Henry. Are you still feeling that way?”

  “I can’t answer you that question. I still have six more weeks, and I hope that I won’t be stranded because my father couldn’t bother to think of me as more than a commodity,” she states.

  “How about you Henry?” the counselor asks.

  Though I can understand why Martina is upset, the energy she’s radiating screams I want blood, and I won’t leave without a fight. Maybe I should have Vance find us a few people to watch her until she leaves. Perhaps I’m overreacting.

  “Henry?” the therapist repeats.

  “I think I want to keep my therapy sessions with my other counselor. There’s just so much going through my head, and how can anyone share their life with someone who can’t handle their own emotions. Personally, emotions make me angry. That’s why I yell at everyone. This isn’t the person I want to be when I make a commitment to the woman I love or to my children.”

  “That’s a great step. Let’s meet again next week.”

  Sophia

  I’m in the middle of an important meeting when Santiago calls me. I try to ignore him, but he texts me 9-1-1.

  Dialing his number, I’m expecting him to tell me that my niece is in trouble, or someone at home lost an arm. Instead, he says, “Did you know the HR director is auditing everyone’s files?”

  “Yes. It’s part of the plan to create an equal environment and to prepare the incentives to move to Oregon,” I respond, not saying, since when do you talk in third person?

  Normally, when we speak, he’s more professional, but in this moment, he sounds more like an arrogant big brother than my colleague.

  Also, how can he call this an emergency?

  “I’ve found a lot of discrepancies,” he announces, my heart stops because what if we get into yet another public relations nightmare? “I’m emailing you everything that I gathered because, even though it’s not illegal, it’s…weird.”

  “Weird how?” I ask puzzled.

  “Just go through everything and if you have any questions, well, ask your boss because no one in the company has any answers.”

  I hang up and stare at Martina, Pierce, and Fitzhenry who are watching expectantly and sigh. “Are we almost done?”

  “Why?” Pierce asks.

  “My brother found some discrepancies and wants me to take a look, but it sounds like what I’m about to see is not pretty and it’s lengthy. It might be something I’ll have to fix with Henry,” I inform him. “I’d rather wait if we have more to discuss.”

  Pierce grins and says, “We’re wrapping this up so take your time.” He leans back on his chair, crosses his arms, and watches me.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “It feels like you’re going to get pissed at the only man who knows how to push your buttons so…I want to watch from the beginning.”

  I laugh. “Nah, I’m not contributing to your bashing. Find your own material to fuck with your brothers.”

  Knowing Henry, whatever he did doesn’t need solving immediately. He’s pretty thorough. I disregard my brother’s email until we wrap up this stage of my special project. Martina and I have been working on it for the past few of weeks. Now that Fitz and Pierce are involved, it’s almost ready to be launched. Hopefully, it’ll happen in just a few more days.

  “Are you sure this is going to work out?” Martina asks me.

  “Trust me,” I tell her. “We’ve done our research. Every asset is in place. The rest is all up to you.”

  “It’s scary,” she whispers.

  “The beginning of any venture is exhilarating and yet, frightening. However, I believe you’re up for the part,” I reassure her.

  The problem with Martina Edelstein is that she was told she was pretty and that’s all that matters in life. Her beauty was enough to have what her heart desired, a man to provide for her. She just needed a gentle push, someone to believe in her, and a little taste of a different world. I showed her how her life can look like if she doesn't follow the script written for her. I don’t think she’s chosen her destiny, but she’ll be able to do it soon.

  Pierce shakes her hand and says, “If you need anything else, you know where to find me. At the Aldridge Mansion, either in the barn or upstairs, second room to the left.”

  Once they leave my house, I dare to open the email which is actually a link to the cloud storage where there are tons of documents. I sigh because there’s a lot to do for the factory, but this seems like something I have to tend to now before it becomes a real problem.

  Five hours.

  It takes me five hours to go through every document, spreadsheet, and bank statement before I understand why Santiago called me saying, it’s weird, not illegal, but if you have questions, call your boss.

  Honestly, at this point, I’m not sure what to feel, but I’m upset enough to fire up the engine on one of Henry’s babies and head to the mansion. When I arrive, I park the car right by the entry but don’t bother to turn it off because maybe I can convince Vance to tie him up and put him right in front so I can accidentally run over him.

  “Where is he?” I ask swinging the door open and carrying the binders I prepared while going through the bullshit he’s done for the past three years.

  “Uh-oh,” Beacon mumbles, looking at me and the papers and then grinning. He throws a fist bump up in the air. “One month without chores.”

  “Where is he?” I ask him again, instead of analyzing his nonsense.

  “The gym,” he responds. “Helping Hayes with Mills’ exercises.”

  Since running over Henry is out of the question, I throw him the car keys and say, “Have fun with it. If you scratch it, I’ll pay you.”

  I make my way to the gym. Mills is on top of one of the orthopedic tables. His leg is covered with a tinfoil lookalike wrap and Henry is on the floor operating what looks like a keyboard without a screen.

  “Soph,” he says, smiling at me when he sees me. “Everything okay?”

  “Human resources is auditing everyone’s salaries and benefits,” I tell him. “Everyone’s!”

  “It’s been a couple of weeks since you decided to stop working for the company,” he remarks.

  “A heads up would’ve been nice. But surely, you’re aware that I run the place, so of course, I’m aware of the fact,” he responds with an attitude.

  “Well, it’s obvious that I’m part of the company or human resources wouldn’t have gone through my file, would they?”

  “They shouldn’t have,” he says, with a neutral tone. “Why would they when you’re already relocated. Everyone in HR knows that only
I handle your file.”

  “Everyone, but my brother,” I remind him, and he mouths, fuck!

  I drop the binders next to him. “Those are copies of my salary history, my benefits, and of course, what HR doesn’t know.”

  He grabs one of the thick binders and opens it.

  “Funny, accounting doesn’t have any trace of my spending account, credit cards, or other expenses that you assured were included within the assistant’s benefits,” I start.

  Then, I realize that Mills is sitting down watching next to Hayes. On the other side of the room, his other brothers stand with almost the same attention, as if this is a discussion they’ve been expecting.

  “Did you forget to list my apartment as part of my benefits?” I continue ignoring the spectators. “You know where I found my spending account registered?”

  He runs a hand through his hair, those green eyes looking at me. He’s partly annoyed and partly terrified. Good, I’m just getting started. “It’s one of your checking accounts, which is funny, because it happens to be our joint checking account. I have a joint checking account with you.”

  I pull out the latest credit card he gave me before I moved to Oregon and drop it next to him. “Unlimited credit? Who gives his assistant unlimited credit?”

  “What is the problem again?”

  “You’ve been paying me from your personal accounts all this time,” I repeat.

  “Just because you have access to my accounts, that doesn’t mean you can go through them,” he protests appalled.

  “Really, you’re playing the victim now. Why did you do that?”

  He sighs and looks around me, “Can someone take over this? I need to talk to her.”

  “You can talk to her. We’re listening,” Beacon states.

  Pierce rolls his eyes and walks toward us, but he stops in front of me and says, “I wish I had been there to see you pull up all this shit.”

  “Did you know about it?” I question, wondering why they are here waiting for a show.

  He gives me that Aldridge smirk that says, of course, I know everything. That’s when it hits me. These men know what I’m talking about. When did they become…brothers? I liked them more when they were at each other’s throats all the time.

  “Fucking Aldridges,” I mumble as Henry and I march outside the gym and toward the main house, but instead of entering he opens the door of his car and drives us to my house.

  I don’t mention that I don’t have the key with me but notice that Beacon actually left it on the dashboard. Again, what is with their solidarity?

  When we settle inside his office I finally speak, “Why did you do it?”

  “Because you needed the money,” he answers without hesitation.

  “Excuse me? I needed to have my salary paid and therefore you did it from your own pocket? I don’t understand any of it. The insurance my parents have is paid through your personal account. Is any of what the company offered real?”

  “Everything is real,” he answers. “What’s the problem if I pay you through Merkel or through my own accounts? I’m the sole owner of that place. There are no investors, boards or…it’s mine to do as I please.”

  “Why did you lie to me? None of those raises were real, or the penthouse or… You were just supporting me because… Why?” I ask angrily.

  “Can I ask you what upsets you the most?”

  “Don’t be condescending!” I order.

  “It’s a valid question. I want to know what upsets you because maybe we can tackle that before we discuss the rest,” he explains so calmly I even take a deep breath and try to reason with myself.

  If he can handle this like an adult, I should be able to do the same. It doesn’t make this entire issue less infuriating though.

  “Because if you just made up all that shit, then I haven’t done anything in my life,” I conclude. “You handed me all this because—”

  “I handled it wrong, everything,” he admits, and I’m a thousand times more confused. “From the very beginning, I should’ve explained to you how I wanted your career to go. Maybe I should’ve left you to work for the marketing department longer instead of pulling you too soon to work directly with me. Nothing I say is going to fix this precise moment when I say, I fucked up for not doing it right. There’s no right way to explain to someone that I had a hunch. From the moment I read your application, studied your scores, and was hit by your essay, I knew I needed you to work for me. Not only that, I knew you’re made for greatness.”

  “It doesn’t explain the nonsense. I feel as if you’ve been playing with my career and my future.”

  “I did it to make your dreams come true,” he confesses.

  “My dream isn’t being your assistant, Henry. Stop playing fucking God,” I declare.

  “You are more than my assistant, Sophia. Yes, by title you are that, but really you’re my partner. We make decisions together. You and I have been running Merkel for the past year,” he continues. “Not that I think it’ll continue that way because, in less than two years, I doubt you’ll want to work for me.”

  He opens his private drawer and pulls out a folder, handing it to me. It has three contracts. The first one is the purchase of an investment company which I remember he was trying to buy a couple of weeks ago. I don’t understand what that has to do with the next contract where the brothers and Blaire gift me the company on the exact date that they receive William’s assets. The last one, the termination of my current contract with Merkel and Aldry’s, dated the day after I become the sole owner of Aldry’s.

  “What is this?” I ask confused.

  “Your own company, and in case we do something stupid, I bought the investment company that gets to buy Aldry’s,” he explains. “Aldry’s is yours because you always work your ass off for everything. All those promotions you wanted weren’t the right fit for you because you were already in the right position—the place where you could learn how to be the CEO of a company.”

  “My dream was never to feel like a failure for these past years because I couldn’t be more than your assistant,” I say, bewildered by this conversation.

  He’s right. I don’t need him to run Merkel. I could do it on my own, and I haven’t needed him to run Aldry’s either.

  “It wasn’t my intention,” he states. “I was raised to do what I thought was best not only for myself but for everyone. I liked taking care of you and making sure you had everything you needed. The reason I never fired you is that you don’t take my shit. You make me think, you… I just want to make sure you’re cared for the rest of your life, Soph. I know you could do it on your own, but is it so bad that I want to be a part of your success and therefore made a lot of mistakes along the way?”

  “You’re fucking infuriating, Henry Aldridge,” I state and set the folder on the desk. “That’s not normal. You can’t just buy a girl a company and say, hey, I just thought of you. Same with the penthouse. I…why? I mean, is that stupid dress policy even real?”

  He smirks. “I heard you complaining about your outfits, how everyone was dressed in the latest, and you couldn’t afford to buy anything from the second-hand store. Maybe I’ve been in love with you since I learned of your existence.”

  “Money is not the way to tell me you love me,” I argue. “I don’t know how to feel about all this. It is overwhelming.”

  “I did it with the best of intentions and just to push you to the top,” he insists. “My therapist and I are working on learning how to show people I love them without the exchange of material things. You know, our kids might benefit from it.”

  “Stop saying our children,” I warn him. “It’d be best if you leave. We can hash this out later. Just remember, I’m being lenient with this.”

  He narrows his gaze and says, “Am I going to hate it?”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” I say innocently.

  “Babe, we know each other too well,” he states, his upper body leaning closer to me. Those g
reen eyes studying me. “You’ve been too quiet. Something is coming, and I want to be ready.”

  “We’ll see,” I say, opening the main door. “Close it on your way out. I’m heading to visit my parents. I’m not in the mood to deal with any Aldridge.”

  Henry

  It’s Friday, right after our couple’s therapy session, and Martina asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “About?” I ask puzzled by the question, more like the lack of context.

  “Sophia,” she answers. “You never mentioned that you and she were…”

  “It’s a sore subject,” I explain. “She’s the one that might get away because why would she wait for someone broken like me?”

  “Do you want to break this up to be with her or because you and I can never be together?”

  “Both,” I answer. “Listen, I’m sure you have some amazing qualities underneath the attitude you like to use as a shield. In another life, I might’ve just married you because I had nothing going on for me. Now, even if I didn’t have Sophia, I’m aware that there’s a lot more than what I was told while growing up. I’d be looking for someone who I want to hold close forever. A woman who makes me feel alive, seen, and heard. Someone who loves me truly even when I fuck up because, while I pretend to be perfect, I’m anything but. Lucky for me, I found her. She’s my best friend, my partner, and the love of my life.”

  She gives me a sad smile, “I wish someone would say at least a few good things about me, like you just did about her.”

  “Listen, I know you think you have it rough, but I think that if you look outside the box there are great things waiting for you.”

  “There are,” she assures me. “If you don’t mind, can we go to Sophia’s house? Everyone is there, waiting for us.”

 

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