by Melissa Blue
Tristan laughed but Ian's brows furrowed. “Boss him around?”
“Aye,” Callan said, keeping a light tone. “Apparently she saw his fridge. She took it upon herself to get him to clean it and the rest of his flat.”
Tristan chuckled again. “She got him to clean? That's impressive.”
Ian muttered something about overstepping boundaries. Callan's gaze narrowed. “If she hadn't befriended him and Douglass hadn't taken a liking to her, she wouldn't have been there and neither would have I. Your father would be dead.”
The elevator doors opened as silence fell after his declaration. He stayed back as his cousins stepped inside. He added, “You owe her.”
I owe her echoed back. Victoria would want to see the Baird. She'd worry about him and that innocent association would be questioned. A tough spot he'd seduced her into because he was a selfish bastard. He'd been so focused on proving that she was ordinary it had never occurred to him she'd fall in love with him. Ironic really, now he had to act as though she was just another woman—Ian's employee. All that he'd done, all the signs he'd ignored made his stomach roll. Victoria was anything but ordinary, and she'd lost her heart to him.
He didn't have to poke at the cold, hard rock in his chest to know what he'd find—Victoria fucking deserved better. Anyone who wasn't still grieving for his wife. A man who didn't feel an ounce of guilt for needing to kiss her and wanting to somehow punish her for making him need it. Someone who wouldn't have locked his heart away until it was a cold, dead hard rock.
He swallowed though his throat felt thick. The least Callan could do was make sure she didn't lose her job too. He may be an utter shite but he was an utter shite who kept his promises.
He let out a frustrated sigh, but knew in his bones this was the right thing to do. Callan pushed the issue. “So for one moment hop off the stick you have up your arse about fraternization,” his voice hardened, “and thank her for saving your father's life.”
Ian nodded, begrudgingly. “Aye. I'll thank her.”
Tristan tilted his head as though he'd heard something more. “You look tired. Go get yourself some coffee.”
“Aye,” is all that could get through his lips, because they'd bought the lies.
Victoria's job would be safe, and they were...over. His cousins were here. She wouldn't sneak around to be with him, not when she knew...
And he couldn't...
The elevator dinged, dragging his gaze up, but he didn't really see anything. They were over. He'd known they would be, sooner or later. Known it with a certainty before he'd come down to greet his cousins. It's why he'd kissed her brow and inhaled her scent while she slept. Still...
Callan stood there for a while just staring at the closed elevator doors, because the deed was done.
*****
Male voices roused Victoria from her sleep. Douglass held her damp palm but his laughter filled the room. His baritone wasn't as strong, and yet that laugh was the most beautiful thing she could have woken up to. She opened her eyes, smiling, and a laugh lived right there on the tip of her tongue.
It died when she saw the two other men in the room. All the blood in her head whooshed out, making the room spin a little. Up until that moment, she'd only seen her boss in severe suits. Ian wore them in three colors: gray, navy blue and black. Often his expression was as severe as his suits. Today, he wore a rumpled white shirt and well-worn jeans. Tristan stood beside him in something similar, but that wasn't too surprising.
Standing side by side at Douglass' bedside...Oh. The room made a good impersonation of a spinning top. If that kept up, she'd need a bed right along with the Baird.
Tristan spoke first, “And Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.”
Dread filled her stomach to the brim, watering her mouth. It was a small miracle that she didn't need to lurch to the bathroom to throw up.
“Hey,” she said and tried to think up a million different lies for why she'd fallen asleep at Douglass' bedside. Not just that, but why and how did she know Douglass existed. She ran a hand through her hair and tried to look presentable while also stalling for time. Neither man filled the silence. For the first time in her life, Victoria didn't feel the need to fill it either. Lord, help her. If they didn't ask, she wouldn't tell.
Douglass turned to her. They'd taken him off oxygen so he looked like his old self, just a little paler than usual. “My boys are here.”
Victoria took in a long, slow breath as the truth hit her in the gut. Callan had called Douglass' boys, because their father had a heart attack. If her mother or father ended up in a hospital someone better damn well call her. That was understandable.
He'd also known they were on their way and hadn't bothered to give her a heads up. No. He'd let her sleep and wake up right into a clusterfuck. He put her job on the line without so much as a warning.
Anger started to dig into her bones like a dull throb. Very carefully, she uncurled from the seat, parts of her aching and everything from last night came rushing back.
They'd had sex in a car and she'd cried during sex because the truth had slammed into her—she'd fallen for Callan. He'd kissed her, comforted her until the tears had dried. They'd found Baird on his couch suffering from a heart attack. They'd sat for hours in a waiting room holding hands, both of them scared and worried about the Baird. She'd held him when relief had buckled him.
And he'd thrown her under the fucking bus.
Victoria swallowed down the anger threatening to close her throat. This was a family moment and now, more than ever, she was extremely aware of her status—an employee. An afterthought to everyone. She did her best to gather her things and creep out the room, but every step she made Douglass would drag her into the conversation.
When she stood at the door, he asked, “How was Macbeth?”
Victoria clutched her purse to staunch the urge to throw it at him, because despite everything she understood his motives. Douglass was loyal to one thing in his life—family. That she had no doubt about. The problem was he considered her family. He wouldn't out her directly but indirectly was fair game. The man had a heart attack and still he was trying to set her up with Callan.
Her eyes narrowed. She did her best to answer his covert question. “I enjoyed the play, but I have to say Macbeth should have let it go. Some things just aren't meant to be.”
“Or maybe he was too dumb to accept the truth.”
His words only added more fuel to her anger. “Same difference, same pointless ending,” she answered in a harsh tone. She backed closer to the exit. “I need to head out and work. I'm happy that you're going to be okay.”
It struck Victoria then this might be the last time she'd see the man. Some of her anger ebbed. She cleared her throat, softened her tone. “Later, Douglass?”
“Aye, lassie,” his tone matched hers as though Douglass knew he'd pushed her too far. “Go find Callan. I want to see all my boys together.”
Tristan tilted his head, watching her with a keen gaze. “He was headed down to the cafeteria for coffee.”
“Thanks,” she told him and made her escape out of the room.
In the elevator ride down, her mind filled with all the things she wanted to say to Callan when she found him. She'd never been so mad in her life that just thinking about someone made the tips of her ears burn. Callan Baird had managed just that reaction from her. He inspired a slew of firsts.
The low simmer of rage was such a contrast to the night before. Last night she'd trusted him when things had turned bleak. But, now? Her jaw clenched as the elevator doors slid open. Her vision tunneled.
Victoria found him standing in front of the glass windows next to the bank of elevators. If she didn't know him, she might have missed the way his shoulders hung low or the shadows that stained the skin beneath his eyes. Last night she would have cupped his face...but it wasn't last night.
Knowing her boss resided in the same building, she balled her fists and spoke to him in a very calm, complet
ely rage-less tone. “Ian and Tristan are upstairs with the Baird.”
“I know.” He took a sip of his coffee.
She jerked back, stunned. “Just like that? 'You know.'”
His gaze broke away from hers. “Listen, Victoria—”
Her temper broke through the calm. “No, you listen.” She stepped forward, forcing him to look at her. “You wouldn't be the man I cared for if you hadn't called Ian and Tristan. I understand that, but it's a ten hour flight from California. If not more. You had ten hours to tell me to leave.” The anger built and stole her breath for a second. “You could have woken me up.”
He sighed. “It wouldn't have made a difference in the end.”
She put up her hands as though that would somehow staunch the flow of pissed-off coursing through her at his reply. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried for rational, tried to think. “I just don't understand why you would do this to me. You put my job in jeopardy. For what reason? Because I’m great in bed? You secretly hate me? What? What?”
Guilt filled his gaze before he looked away again, and then she did understand.
Victoria swallowed though it hurt as her mind finally caught on the obvious reason. He had needed her and he hadn't wanted to need her. How many times had he said those same exact words in various ways? It didn't matter what was important for her. From the beginning it had always been about whatever pleased him.
“I did this for you,” Callan murmured as though he could read the revelation on her face.
Her breath hitched. “For me? There was never any reason for Ian to know. Getting found out by my boss was my only dealbreaker with you. And you let that happen. Why?”
His jaw tightened and his hand fisted around his coffee cup. “It's not like that. I—”
She took another step forward. “You can't have it both ways, Callan.”
“What does that even mean?” His anger finally butting against hers. “What other way do I have you?”
“You cook for me. You take care of me.” Her throat felt thick just saying the words. “That’s how you have me, and you know it. You, also, have me in bed. Any way you want. Any way I ask. You've tried to make sure that I know that's it for us. I'm fine with that, because I'm leaving in a few weeks. It’s the rest…” She stopped, her heart aching, and then she forced herself to add, “I was fine with us just being sex, because you're not ready to let go of Diana.”
His mouth tightened. “I know.”
Her heart twisted at his simple confession. She'd known, hadn't really wanted to hear the truth, but she had a point to make. “Does Ian know I’ve been around you and his father outside of work?”
“Aye.”
“Did I tell him? Did I agree that you should tell him?” At his silence all she could do was shake her head. “Right,” she said, feeling so cold she trembled.
“We couldn't be together anymore, lass. You know that.”
She glanced up not able to look at him without the urge to cry burning her eyes. “I know the moment I made a mistake I should have ended things with you. We were sitting around my coffee table,” she said quietly. “You had just finished cooking dinner and you go over my notes. And there are mistakes. I don't tell you but everything, everything I do after that I triple check. I know, deep down, I wouldn't have made those mistakes if it weren't for you. My job and who I sleep with never intermingle. I have those rules for this very reason. Shit gets complicated. My work gets questioned. That's what I know, Callan.”
“That's not what I mean,” Callan said, his head down, not even able to look at her either.
Victoria’s breath hitched again and she hated that. She'd shown nothing but weakness since she'd met him. “You said you wouldn't undermine my integrity. I trusted you to keep your word. I believed it. I believed you, Callan. That’s on me. And you let me sit there, asleep in that hospital room knowing my boss would have questions about how I even know Douglass.”
His head notched back. “He'd be a hypocrite—”
She shook her head harder. “We love each other and this shit sort of happened. That Ian could maybe understand. But this?” She gestured between them. “Is just lust and recklessness. If there was ever any doubt, today you've made that clear.”
His gaze filled with something akin to regret. “Victoria...”
“You can't even say that you needed me here.” Her voice rose and more than a few people walking by stopped for a second. She didn't care. “So why should I put my everything on the line for you? Why should I let you decide anything for me when you can't even say you didn't want to be alone? You didn't need someone, you needed me to be here with you. That's not a declaration of love. That's being human. That's living.”
His jaw twitched. “You had to know I'd call them. He's their father.”
“You didn't warn me. What's confusing about how screwed up that is? Thirty minutes before they got here you could have shaken me awake and told me to run for the hills. But you couldn't do that, could you? You can't even admit that you couldn't.”
He stayed silent. God. She unclenched her fists so she wouldn't hit him. “I can't even say this is out of character for you. You make a decision and that's that. You decided I'd be the right person to take care of Douglass. We'd sleep together. We'd discover kinks, because I must have some. Like an idiot—”
“You're anything but stupid, Victoria,” his voice was hard when he said it.
She ignored him, tired of hearing his side. “So why would you even think that you should discuss this with me?” She hated how her eyes suddenly filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. “You broke your promise, but what did I expect? As far as you're concerned, you're married. Those are the only vows you have to keep. I'm just the other woman.”
“Victoria,” he said as though she was killing him with her every word. And then he just stopped talking, his jaw clenching.
She sucked in a breath and socked away all the hurt. He didn't deserve one goddamn tear. While she still had a job, she needed to do it. He stepped forward. She put her hand on his chest to keep him at bay and shook her head.
“I'm going to catch a cab. I have paperwork to do. I'll check on Douglass when I can, but after his heart attack, it might be best to get him a maid and a nurse to look after him.”
“Burke,” he said and anger filled his tone. “Will you listen to me?”
She tilted her head and met his gaze in a challenge. They both knew he had no legitimate reason for not warning her, and that Victoria had been right in everything she'd said. “What rationalizations do you have?”
“I had to tell them about Douglass. You would have wanted to see him.”
In that, at least, he was right. “But that was for me to decide, Callan. It's my career to throw away. So ask yourself why did you do it like this?” She put up her hands again because she didn't want to hear his answer. “You knew how I felt about you and it was easier to end things like this. I never thought you a coward.”
He rocked on his heels as though she'd hit him. “This wasn't a betrayal,” he threw back. “I couldn't let them fire you over me. I couldn't let you cut yourself out of Douglass' life.”
Cut herself out of his life didn't need to be said. It was clear in his taut jawline. And he couldn't admit it. Victoria knew he never would, because sex with her didn't feel wrong, didn't feel like he was cheating on his wife. Loving her would be and Callan couldn't do that to his wife.
Her eyes stung from the unshed tears, but she nodded at his silent answer. “If your actions were so noble why didn't you warn me, explain to me that's what you wanted to do?”
He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “Let me drive you home.”
“No.” She didn't even hesitate. There was no way she'd be able to spend another minute around him. “I think we're done here. With everything, just to be clear.”
Victoria didn't wait for a reply. She walked away from him and found a bay of phones. The ache in her bones now wasn't
anger, it was reality settling in. He could have followed her and talked her into getting into his car so he could take her home. Callan could have done a million things that would have mattered, that would have meant maybe he didn't love her but what he felt for her was more than lust. Something to prove to himself at least he wasn't scared of loving her back.
But he did none of those things. She caught a cab home, feeling more alone in her life than she ever dreamed possible.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Only a week after Douglass' heart attack, no one allowed the older man to leave the house and there was always someone there with him. This time Tristan had stayed to babysit Papa Baird. Otherwise Callan had no doubt both of his cousin's would have made this somber trek with him. Even though he'd wanted to go to the cemetery alone. He always did.
Row after row of headstones held names and epithets that he could probably recite from memory. That and the serene quiet gave him a strange sense of familiarity so that he never felt lonely. A bit morbid now that he thought about it as Ian trailed at his side. May explain why he was fucked up to begin with.
Callan clutched the white roses and shoved his other hand deep into the pocket of his trousers. The shift of movement caused his cousin to glance at him. Ian wore a subdued expression and didn't say anything. They climbed the last crest.
From there Callan could see the new obelisk headstone. It towered over most of the others and sat under a large tree. For so long there had only been a marker with her name etched on it. He stopped, took in a breath and just stared at the erected cross at the tip of the stone. Everything in him hollowed for a moment.
Ian clapped a hand on his shoulder. Callan moved forward again until he stood in front of Diana's grave. He'd worked many hours, tucked away every spare cent and had seen the headstone in various stages as he paid it off. It had always broke him in some way whenever he had to deal with her death again, but now peace settled inside him. It's exactly what he hoped for, and still somehow the emotion felt empty. He'd expected a visceral kind of closure.