by Nikki Chase
I shouldn't care. Why should I care who he's with? We just have a business relationship. This is a business meeting. There's no room for anything personal here.
“I fell for you, Daisy.” Caine raises his gaze to meet my incredulous stare.
What I see in his deep blue eyes kicks me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me so I can't speak. He means that. I see honesty, sincerity, vulnerability—all the things he's never shown me before.
“I know you don't believe me, but I did,” Caine says. “I don't know when it happened, but I fell for you and suddenly everything seemed so simple. All the complicated notions and ideas in my head disappeared. I can hear my own voice without all the noise.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I finally understand what really matters. Only people matter. Not money, not history, not business. Only the people I love. Like you.”
If my words were like a knife, his words are like a flame, softening and melting the hard, protective armor I’ve built around my heart.
“What do you think you're going to accomplish by saying all these things to me?” I hold on to my armor. I have to. Caine is way too dangerous for me go in naked. I know that now. I’m not as naïve as I used to be.
Sure, he's a beautiful, graceful, gorgeous man. But underneath that sleek, sexy exterior, there's a dark danger lurking, like the sharp claws and fangs of a big cat.
“Nothing. I don't have any agenda anymore. I’m done playing games with you, because I care about you. I'm just being honest.”
I stare at him. His words sound so good, so enticing, but I can't open myself up only to let him inflict more pain. I'm not masochistic—not in that way, at least.
Caine takes a deep breath and locks his pleading gaze on me. “If I tell you everything, will you stay and listen?”
“You know that's not going to change my mind about giving you back the money.”
“The money is yours. You can do whatever you want with it.” When he sees me opening my mouth, he quickly adds, “Including give it back to me, if that's what you want.”
I'm stunned into silence.
“Please, take a seat.” Caine gestures at the chair behind me. “All I want is to spend a few more minutes with you.”
I lower myself down onto the chair without taking my eyes off Caine. He does the same, taking a seat and leaning forward over his desk. He interlaces his fingers and rests them on the glass surface. He hangs his head down, then looks up at me from underneath his lush lashes.
“Thank you,” he says with a sad smile. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain everything that has been going on in my head these past few days. I’ve been realizing how wrong I’ve been in some ways, and how right I’ve been in other ways. Like I said, you cleared my head right up.
“I realized I was right about family being the only important thing, like my father has always taught me. But I was wrong about who counts as family.
“My father and my brother are my family. My mother never was—not because she didn’t give birth to me, but because she never cared about me. I thought Uncle Nathan and Todd were family, but I was wrong about that, too.
“I used to think everyone else, who wasn’t part of the family, only wanted money from me. To an extent, I was right. Anybody I pay to do things for me, obviously, only wants money from me. I used to be bitter about that, but I realize now it’s only because I haven’t forged many relationships that don’t involve any financial exchange, and that’s my own fault.
“My relationship with my ex-fiancée was money-based, as well. She grew up in a family much like mine, which made me think that at least she wasn’t going to use me for my money, because she has plenty of it herself.
“To be honest, ironically, I was going to use her for her money and connections.” Caine chuckles mirthlessly. “It would’ve been a good business move to marry her. I probably burned a few really expensive bridges when I broke off the engagement, but I had to do it. I didn’t want to end up like my father, who got married because it was good for business.
“It was never a real relationship. We just had meals together occasionally, but we never had anything to talk about. It was never… There was never any real connection there.” He looks almost shy as he says, “It’s not the way it is with you.”
“Did you ever…” I pause and hesitate. I’m not sure I should ask this question, but I don’t know if I’m ever going to see him again after today, and I want to know the answer. “Did you ever have any healthy relationship with a woman?”
Caine laughs, as if I’ve said the funniest thing ever. “No,” he says. “You raise a good point. Maybe that’s what has fucked me up my whole life. At the end of the day, I’m probably just your average, run-of-the-mill guy with mommy issues.”
I give him a smile—not because he said anything particularly funny, but because it seems like the kind of thing that could help him feel better.
“To tell you the truth, I did have a real relationship once.” Caine’s features turn serious. Pain flashes in his eyes, but it goes away as quickly as it appeared. “She… I thought she was the one. I thought I was going to marry her. We were living together.” He winces. “I gave her everything, then I found her in bed with another man.”
My chest tightens. I don’t know if I can forgive him for the things that he’s said to me, but I know now where he’s coming from. I understand why he did the things that he did.
If I were Caine, I’d probably lose faith in people, too, and women in particular. No wonder it was all just a power struggle with him. That’s all he’s ever known all his life.
And just when he thought he’d found something genuine, it turned out to be another lie.
I don’t know what comes over me, but an idea enters my mind and embeds itself into my brain. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, but I know exactly what I should do next.
“Let me stay with you for the remaining fifteen days,” I hear myself say.
“What?” Caine seems to be taken off-guard.
“Yeah. I’m still not expected to be back at work for a couple more weeks. You don’t want the money back. I don’t want it if I haven’t earned it. So, let me earn it by picking up where we left off and seeing it through until the end.”
34
Caine
I’m an asshole.
I know I should’ve said no. I should’ve told Daisy to go home, where her brother needs her, where she can live a happy life without me. I can only bring her trouble.
Problem is, I still want to keep her for myself.
After everything that’s been said and done, after everything I’ve put her through, I don’t have any right. I can’t ask anything of her, much less demand her to hold up her end of the bargain just because I gave her more money.
Still, when she told me she wanted to spend more time with me, I couldn’t say no. I agreed, and she told me she was going to be waiting for me at home tonight.
I can’t work like this. There’s way too much shit going on in my head.
That’s why I’m here at Pop’s. Everything within me yearns to go home, to see Daisy as much as possible while I still can, but a small, annoying voice within me says that would be a mistake.
I need to know how to face her before I do. I was caught by surprise in my office earlier today, and I ended up making a questionable decision.
So, like all the other times when I didn’t know what to do, I’m going to ask Pop.
This time it’s different, though. I’ve never asked him for advice about women before, but that was before, when he had a shitty marriage and many other shitty relationships.
Now, or at least for the past few days, he seems happy and content with Bertha around. I still don’t know if I can ever accept her as my mother, or even if she wants me to, but I know Pop seems happy around her. So, maybe he has some advice for me, after making his own mistakes with women and finally getting it right.
Over the past half hour,
I’ve been telling Pop and Bertha all about what has happened between Daisy and me, leaving out the sex stuff, of course. They don’t need to know anything about that.
Bertha seems appalled that I’d pay Daisy for sex. “She seems like such a nice girl,” she says.
“She is,” I say defensively. “She was just in a tight spot because she has to take care of her brother.”
“And you used that to make her do what you want.” Bertha asks. I can tell that she wants to keep her mouth shut, she wants to repair our relationship, but the story I’ve just told her is apparently just too distasteful for her to stay quiet.
“Yes, and I regret doing that. What can I say? I can’t take back what I’ve already done. I know I don’t deserve her, but I can’t say no if she wants to stick around. I just don’t know what to do next. I’m no good for her. Maybe I should tell her to go home.”
Pop maintains his neutral expression and says nothing. Like I said, we never talk about women, but I know—I’d bet money on it—that Pop has definitely made similar arrangements with women before.
If he and Bertha haven’t discussed it yet, they sure will tonight. I feel bad for him, but I’m in deeper shit right now. Besides, they’ve waited decades to be together; surely there are many things they’ve done that would be forgiven just because a long time has passed.
“What you’ve done is unforgivable,” Bertha says, her words as sharp as shards of glass. “But love endures. I’ve forgiven your father, even though he cheated on someone else with me and let his family take you away. Love forgives. I know that firsthand.”
Bertha takes my hand between hers and looks sternly into my eyes. “If she loves you, she’ll forgive you. And if she does forgive you, then the worst, most painful thing you can do is to turn her away despite that. That would be the cruelest thing you can do to her.
“Don’t tell her to leave when she wants to stay and you want her to stay. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
I swallow. Could she be right? Could my selfishness in wanting to keep her around actually be a good thing? That sounds too good to be true.
I turn toward Pop. He’s been silent the whole time and I really want to hear what he has to say. We’re pretty similar people, after all.
“I agree with Birdy,” he says. “I know it seems counterintuitive because you feel like you’ll only bring her trouble. I used to feel that way, too, about Birdy. But she’s made me see that it’s selfish to think that way.
“You’re not taking into consideration what Daisy wants. If she wants to stay with you, she’d be happy with you, even if you think she wouldn’t be. If you tell her to leave, you’d be making the decision for her, when she’s perfectly capable of making that decision herself. You don’t know better than she does what’s good for her.”
“That’s right,” Bertha says with a proud smile on her face as she pulls Pop into a loving hug.
“Look, son, all my life I’ve told you, family is the most important thing. I can see that’s something you live by and that makes me glad. But if I can give you another important piece of advice, it’s this.” Pop pauses to take a deep breath and looks into my eyes.
He says, “You can choose your family. I don’t mean me, or Cole, or Birdy, or even Nora. You can’t choose the family you’re born into. But you can choose your woman, and you can choose your family that way.
“I say this because I made the wrong choice,” Pop’s voice starts to break. He takes a moment to compose himself as Bertha rubs his back with a smile on her face. “I made the wrong choice when I picked business and wealth over love. I paid for it with misery; decades upon decades of regret and misery.
“For the longest time, I didn’t reach out to Birdy because I thought she was happier without me. I kept an eye on her. I even knew her husband and daughter had died, and she was all alone. But I still thought I’d only bother her, be a nuisance to her.”
“Aww… You’d never be a nuisance to me, Robbie,” Bertha says.
“See?” Pop smiles, even as pain fills his eyes. “I regret not reaching out sooner. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re not worthy of her. Let her make that decision herself.”
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Pop, the strongest man I know, is falling apart before my eyes, and it’s all because of this nice, kind-hearted lady beside him.
And yet, despite his inward struggle, he seems to be happier than I’ve ever seen him. Even his health has improved. The impact of a good woman on a man is immense.
“Don’t make the wrong choice, son,” Pop says with glassy eyes. “Choose love—not money or pride. The answer is always love. Every time.”
When I open the door to my apartment, I’m ready. I know what to do—or rather, I know what not to do.
I’m not going to make Daisy do anything, and I’m not going to stop her from doing anything either. She’s in charge this time.
“You’re late tonight,” she says from the couch. She’s wearing her skinny jeans and a plain black shirt. I hear the sound of a laugh track from the TV. Apparently, she’s watching something funny.
My chest tightens. I don’t want her to leave after fifteen days. I don’t want her to leave after fifteen thousand days, or fifteen million days. I want her to stay.
I just hope she wants the same thing.
“Yes, I made a stop at my father’s.” I join her on the couch.
“Oh, how is he?”
“He’s doing really well, actually. He told the nurse to go home, now that Bertha’s there to take care of him.”
“She’s staying there now?”
“I think so.”
“Good for them.” Daisy smiles the most adorable smile. “I’ve been rooting for them to make it.”
They’re rooting for us to make it, too, I want to say. I keep my mouth shut, though. I don’t want to pressure her into anything.
She slides closer toward me and touches my face, her fingers small and delicate. She smiles as she plays with my five o’clock shadow. I think I see affection in her eyes, but is my mind playing tricks on me? Is it just wishful thinking?
She leans closer and grazes her lips lightly against mine, and I lose all control. I crush her lips with mine, kissing her with the desperation of a man who knows time is ticking, time is running out. I want to savor every little breath, every little lick of her tongue, every little taste of her sweet lips. Her hand on my face pulls me closer; she wants this just as much as I do, needs it as much as I do.
When we pull away from each other, her lips are wet, red, and swollen. I salivate, thinking about how I could also make her lower lips look that good.
But this is not the time. I put my hands on Daisy’s shoulders to keep her at arm’s length.
“Listen, Daisy. Can we talk?”
She nods, and I reach for the remote to turn off the TV.
“I’ve thought about it. A lot. I don’t want you to stay if it’s only to fulfill your end of the bargain.” I watch as her face falls, and quickly add, “I do want you to stay, though. But not because of the contract. Not because we’ve agreed on it.”
She remains quiet, studying my face like she’s trying to figure me out.
And, for once, I let her. I put my guard down, and let her see the real me.
I won’t try to hide my real thoughts and emotions again—not from her, or any woman I might get involved with in the future, if Daisy tells me to fuck off. My insides twist at the thought of having to let go of Daisy again and seeing another woman instead. She’s the only one I want. I’m sure of it.
“Daisy, I… I meant what I said at the hospital that night. I love you.”
Her gaze softens. She nods. “I know,” she says.
“I can’t play this game anymore. It’s too much. I can’t be your client, or your employer, or your sugar daddy, or the random guy who happens to offer you money anymore. You understand me?”
She nods again.
“I need this to be real. No, I me
an… I mean I want the real you, whatever that means. If that means you want to leave and never see me again, that’s fine. If that means you want to stay and never leave, you’ll make me the happiest man alive.
“If that means you want to stay for the next fifteen days and no more, then… Then we can do that, too. It will hurt for me, but I want to spend as much time as I can with you. However much time you want.”
Daisy’s eyes fill with water.
“No, don’t cry. Please. What do you want? What can I do to make things better?” I panic.
“I’m not crying because I’m sad,” she says, tears escaping her beautiful green eyes. “I’m crying because I’ve been hoping you’d say that. I’ve been wishing you’d want to keep me, but I didn’t think you would. I’m happy.”
“So you’ll stay?” My voice sounds pathetic. I sound like I’m begging, pleading, but I don’t care. I’d get on my knees and grovel in front of her if she’ll stay with me and make this real.
“Yes, I’ll stay. I love you, too,” she says shyly.
Happiness fills my chest and pulls up the corners of my lips. I’m grinning like an idiot, but who fucking cares? She fucking loves me and nothing else matters.
I cup her face in my hands and wipe away her tears with my thumbs. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me, my little flower.”
“I do,” she protests. “I do because I’m happy, too.”
Once again, I ravish her with my mouth, with my lips, with my tongue. Something has changed, though. Something subtle in the atmosphere.
There's still that fear of losing her—I don't think that will ever go away, which doesn't bother me because that's just a part of giving a shit about someone.
No, what's different is this surge of possessiveness within me. Nobody’s going to harm her because I’ll protect her. No one’s going to take her away because she belongs to me. She’s never leaving me again, ever.
We shed our clothes and I lay down on the couch, pulling her on top of me, parting her thighs with mine. She looks so small and delicate, compared to my own body. She's soft where I'm hard. Feminine. A woman's body.