“She needs to hear something directly from me, not from a message. If she doesn’t want to speak to me again after that, I’ll never bother her again.”
April stared at me suspiciously and I adopted my most serious expression. “Really. She’s going to want to hear this, trust me.”
April stood there for the longest time, looking like a battle was going on inside of her head. Finally, she let out a huge sigh. "I'll go find her and see what she says.” She turned away, but stopped to add, "On one condition."
"Anything."
"You never come here again."
If I get to talk to her, I won’t need to come here again, I thought.
"Scout's honor," I assured, putting up the little hand signal.
April scowled at me, looking as if she was going to change her mind. I kept my expression straight and serious.
"Okay," she finally said. "Don't make me regret this or you'll be sorry."
"I won't," I promised.
She still looked skeptical. "Wait here and I'll be right back."
I spent the better of twenty minutes standing around at the receptionist’s desk, looking like a dumbass waiting for April to come back. The receptionist, Kathy, a middle-aged woman with graying hair, kept me entertained, telling me all about her daughter and her recent engagement. She seemed to be that type of person who’d talk to just about anyone and tell them her life story.
"She’s so happy," Kathy was saying to me after just showing me her daughter, a little blonde with a humble next-door type appearance. "She got herself a good fella—handsome too, just like yourself.” She beamed at me.
“Oh you're so kind," I said, trying to sound at least a little interested in the conversation. “Truth be told, there's nothing special about my looks."
“Handsome and modest, a good combination,” Kathy said, placing the back of her hand to the side of her mouth and lowering her voice to a conspirator whisper, “You’d be quite the catch.”
“Modest, huh?” I chuckled. “Now that’s something I haven’t heard before.”
At that moment, April reappeared, walking up the hallway toward me. The look on her face told me everything.
"Sorry, I have to go," I said, not sparing Kathy another glance. "It was nice meeting you, Kathy." I walked off briskly before the she could reply, making it to April in several quick strides.
"Well?" I demanded, trying to keep myself calm and collected.
April stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, purposefully drawing the moment out.
Finally, she said, “Against my better judgment, Victoria’s willing to talk to you.”
I tapped my fingers impatiently against the wooden armrest of my chair. This was so not me, being forced to wait to be seen. Usually it was the other way around. April had led me to a waiting room on the top floor of the building. It had a pretty nice view, but nothing like what I enjoyed at my office.
The problem was that, while nice and all, Christine's building wasn't high enough to see over all the other surrounding buildings, so all you saw were other buildings blocking out the view.
I turned my eyes away from the outside, my thoughts going inward. I wondered what had been going on with Victoria all this time. Had she thought about me? Would she forgive me? I didn't know the answers to these questions, but that’s what I intended to find out.
I was going to do my best to win her back. I already knew how I was going to prove to her that what she saw with Candice wasn’t what it looked like.
All I needed was the chance . . . and I could set things right.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door cracked open and I quickly sprang to my feet like a jack-in-the-box. My heart began to pound in my chest in an annoying fashion as I waited for the door to open fully. I waited, holding my breath, preparing myself for what I had to say.
Don't screw this up, Ty.
The door open and in walked . . . What the fuck?
Christine Finnerman.
She was dressed like the frigid ice queen that she was, in a form-fitting white dress with a matching white belt at her waist, frosted pumps, her silver hair done up into an elegant style. A sparkling necklace adorned her neck, which was tight and firm for a woman of her age.
Though I’d never met Victoria's boss, I knew how she looked because of the billboards that had her evil mug plastered on them all over city.
All in all, I'd say she was one of the state’s most powerful women. Her name commanded respect.
"What's going on here?" I asked in confusion as Christine slowly closed the door behind her. I looked over her shoulder, somehow hoping Victoria had followed in behind her. "Where's Victoria?"
Christine's gaze centered on me like a hawk, her eyes blazing with hatred.
I’m usually a guy that can't be ruffled, but this woman made me hot under the collar . . . and not in a good way. I swore if she kept looking at me like that, I'd catch on fire.
"She's not coming," she said crisply, her voice as cold and frigid as she looked. "You'd do well to forget all about her."
I stood my ground. "What do you mean she's not coming? She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions. You’re not her mother. Is this another one of your attempts to make her life a living hell?”
"I’m just her employer, something you forgot when you filled her little head with that startup nonsense.” She grinned tightly. "Fortunately for her, I saw right through what was happening and chose to give her mercy by keeping her employed here."
"Please," I scoffed. "Being tortured working under you is what you call mercy? Give me a break!"
I expected a hot retort. Instead, Christine began to circle me. “In a way, I'm the only mother she's got."
I laughed in disbelief. "You're unbelievable. And I thought I was full of myself.”
Christine looked at me as if waiting for me to say something else. When I didn’t, she spoke up.
“You know, when I saw Victoria standing in front of me that first day, interviewing for a position as one of my assistants, I saw a girl who was vulnerable, lost. I saw a girl who needed guidance. I thought, she reminds me of me when I was younger. I took her under my wing, Mr. Locklin, because I had a gut feeling that Victoria had a future ahead of her, a career that will never be allowed to flourish with you underfoot."
"Nice story," I said sarcastically, "but what a load of bullshit! Victoria has told everyone who will listen about how horrible and awful you treat her. And now you want to act like you’re her fairy godmother?!"
"Ah, yes," Christine said, "big, bad, evil Christine, treating her girls like they're red-headed stepchildren." She clasped a hand to her cheek. "Whatever shall they do?" She circled me again, stopping directly in front of me. This time, her gaze softened as she looked me in the eyes. "We live in a cruel world, Mr. Locklin, as I'm sure you know, working in the corporate world and all, and there is nothing crueler than to work in the cut-throat world of fashion. What these girls think is mean, is actually me preparing them for the viciousness that awaits them. I do it and I make no apologies about it either, because if Victoria doesn’t crack under the pressure, she’ll appreciate it later. If she does, then this business just wasn’t for her.”
"That was a nice little speech," I growled, doing a quick golf clap that was meant to annoy her. “You almost convinced me with that one. Now let me see Victoria."
Christine's face hardened into stone. "Victoria is busy, Mr. Locklin. Besides, you'd be better off focusing on helping your father's company maintain its portfolio rather than wasting your time on Victoria. Now please, I’m going to need you to leave my building.”
Ignoring the last bit, I said “You’re not accomplishing anything. You can't keep me from seeing her."
Christine produced a cellphone out of the side of her dress in one quick, elegant flourish, brandishing it in front of my face as if it were a weapon. “Of course I can’t. But I can have you escorted out of the building. Which I'll be forced to do if you don't
leave within ten seconds." She stared at me with challenge. I could see in her eyes that she wanted me to defy her.
I stood there for a second, wondering if I should call her bluff.
"Fine," I said, hating myself for giving up, but not wanting to give the condescending woman the pleasure of having me removed from her building. "I'm leaving.”
Victoria
I let out a sigh, sweat beading my forehead. When I'd gotten the message from April that Tyler was here, I almost lost my will, tempted to go down to talk to him. Right when I was about to go down, Christine intervened, saying that she'd handle it and if I wanted to see him, I’d have to do it on my own time.
While there was the normal bossiness in her voice, it almost sounded like she said it as I got your back. I was shocked, but at the same time, I was probably just imagining it. Christine never did anything for anyone, though she had seemed to lighten up a little over the last couple of months.
"What did he say?" I asked with trepidation, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.
Ignoring him was the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I’d managed. All I had to do was think of what I’d seen, and it gave me the will and the resolve to hold steady.
Today was the first time that the image didn't produce the strength needed to resist the urge to give him a chance to explain.
"He was determined to see you," Christine replied. "I told him that you were busy, which you are. Victoria, I don’t need this kind of thing happening here. I know you can’t control him, but I need you to try to ensure this doesn’t happen again.”
I was taken back, almost speechless. “Um, thank you, Mrs. Finnerman,” I told her, unsure exactly what to say. “And it won’t happen again. I promise.”
Christine walked over. “Good. Now get back to work. You’re a good assistant with a bright future ahead of you, but trust me with this one: there’s a thousand girls out there who’d kill for your job, and I won’t tolerate disruptions.”
My jaw almost needed to be picked up from my desk. Did Christine just compliment me? What was the world coming to?
"Close your mouth, Victoria, or you might catch a fly,” Christine advised, knowing that she’d just rendered me speechless.
I snapped my mouth shut as my boss walked away. “And don't let my praise go to that silly little head of yours, Victoria. You have a long way to go before you can walk a step in my shoes."
And then she was gone.
Chapter 23
Tyler
"You don't have to worry about me embarrassing you anymore," I said to my father as I sat directly across from him in his office. "My relationship with Victoria is over."
My father regarded me wearily. "Is that why you suddenly started drinking?"
I nodded. Normally I didn't reveal private things that involved emotion with him, but I felt like I needed to, so that we'd be able to at least function on speaking terms for the betterment of Armex.
“Yes. We haven’t seen each other for a few months now, actually.”
“I suppose that explains a lot,” Dad muttered. He stared at me. "I'm sorry, son. How are you doing?”
I shrugged. "I'm over it."
"Don't try to act all nonchalant with me, Tyler." Dad sat back in his seat. "For a while I didn't believe you cared about Victoria one way or the other. I believed you were just using her to get back at me because I wanted you to have a perfect relationship. In reality, I should have been happy you finally found someone who could rein you in. Lord knows you’ve picked some real keepers. Like . . .”
"Don't even mention her name,” I growled.
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, after I thought about it, I realized standing in your way was just going to make matters worse."
Gee, Dad, I thought wryly. Now you want to come to this conclusion when our relationship is over. How convenient.
I saw no use in arguing about it. What was done, was done.
I held in a groan. I really didn't want to hear all this now after all I’d gone through. After all, what good did it do me? I was dead to Victoria.
"All of that doesn't matter anymore," I said flatly. "It's over, so you can stop worrying about me ruining the company's image, making a fool of myself or going around screwing anything that moves. I'm done with all that. For good."
“That’s music to my ears. But I just want you to be happy, son," Dad said empathically. "That's all I've ever wanted from the beginning."
I snorted. “You sure have a hell of a way of showing it. You threatened to replace me with Charles Whitmore. I mean, I would’ve been pissed either way, but Charles Whitmore? I can’t stand that guy and you know it!" I'd intended to keep my cool during our little talk, but I was shocked at the anger that came through my voice.
Dad made a ‘calm down' motion with his hand. “Relax, Ty. I never had any intention of replacing you with Charles. Well, maybe for a minute out of anger. Of course I knew you were rivals. I hoped that telling you he would take your spot would light a fire under your ass.”
“Well how’d that work out?” I muttered sourly.
Dad ignored me. "And there's another thing, Ty." He paused and I knew whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'm sorry . . . for pressuring you to break up with Victoria. Sometimes, I feel like we're more alike than you know. When someone tells us not to do something, it makes us want to do it that much more.”
I grew silent. For my dad to apologize . . . well, it was unheard of. I can’t remember him ever saying those words to me before for anything. He wasn’t as prideful as me, but he was damn near close.
“Um, thanks, Dad," I said awkwardly. "I know that must’ve been tough.”
Dad wiped at sweat that was suddenly beading his forehead. "You can say that again.”
I stood up out of my chair and stretched out my arms, suddenly eager to get away. "Alright, I'm going to go. Got a report I need to finish. See you tomorrow." I turned to leave.
"Wait."
I paused. "Huh?
"One last thing." He fiddled with one of his favorite pens, a gift I'd gotten him one Christmas that was emblazoned with gold and personalized with his name. "If you should somehow get back with Victoria . . . you have my blessing."
Chapter 24
Tyler
"Shit, I feel like the world is crashing down on my head," Brad groaned, downing a shot. He let out a heavy sigh and smacked the glass back down on the bar, rattling my glass of Sprite. "The wedding is two weeks from now."
Brad had called me to meet up with him to discuss his upcoming wedding and the anxiety he had over it. Not having anything particularly important happening, I was quick to oblige. I seem to have a lot more free time on my hands these days.
"Everything is going to work out fine," I assured him. "I got everything covered. Stop worrying, stop stressing. It's not worth it."
Brad regarded me with bloodshot eyes. "Well, just look at Positive Suzy over here. Everything is just flowers and rainbows for you, isn't it?"
I fingered my cold glass of Sprite, wishing it was something stronger. "You called me here to give you support. I'm giving it, but if you want, I can tell you how stupid you are and how your life is over instead."
Brad shook his head. "Nah, nah. You're right. I should stop being such a little bitch. It's just that . . .” He groaned. "Katie won’t stop talking about babies! I mean, what's wrong with her? I’m just getting going with my career, and she literally wants to conceive on our honeymoon.” Brad signaled the waitress to bring him another glass and promptly turned it up as soon as it arrived. "Fuck, man."
Babies. Just even thinking about the concept felt alien to me. I'd never really given much thought to the idea, never really wanted a kid except for maybe when my youth was gone and I was too old to do all the things I loved to do.
For some reason, the thought of babies brought Victoria to my mind. Her pretty smile. Her stubborn personality. I could totally see us having . . .
In panic, I pushed the troubles
ome thoughts away. I must be getting old, I thought.
"You need to put your foot down," I told him. "Now instead of later. Have a talk before the wedding. Come to an understanding."
"Ugh," Brad groaned. "I don't know."
I placed a hand on Brad's shoulder. "Look, a healthy relationship is based on equal partnership, not a dictatorship. A considerate and loving partner will listen to your wants and needs and take them into consideration when they come into conflict with their own. You should be able to tell Katie yours, and then you guys should be able to discuss things and find a happy medium. I mean, come on. If you guys can't see eye to eye now, how do you expect to remain married? Why get married in the first place?"
Look at me sounding like I'm some sort of therapist, I thought. For some reason, being without Victoria had made me become all preachy.
Brad stared at me for an entire minute before he spoke. I wondered if he could even comprehend what I was saying. “Who the fuck are you? I mean, you look like Tyler. At least I think you do. I’m pretty drunk, after all. But you know what?” he asked. “Whoever you are, you're right. I should have a talk with her, let her know who’s boss."
"There you go," I said. "Grow some balls."
Brad snorted. "I've always had balls. Katie's just had a grip on them for the longest time. A sharp, nail-filled grip."
I winced at the image his words summoned.
"But now she's talking about buying a house as soon as we’re back from the honeymoon—you know—a place to put said babies in," he moaned, looking like he was about to fall apart.
I tightened my grip on his shoulder. "Remember what I said," I reasoned. "Talk it out like two adults. Everything will be fine."
Or run now while you still can, I thought. Run far, far, away. Save your sanity.
I didn't bother saying what I was thinking. I knew that Brad was dead set on marrying her, despite all of his complaining. He loved Katie more than life itself.
"I hope so."
Reckless (Bertoli Crime Family #2) Page 30