by Aimie Grey
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “As far as I’m concerned, the only things my ovaries are good for is getting me wet and keeping personal summers at bay.” She closed the driver’s door a little louder than last time, but before pulling away she rolled down the window and said, “Don’t worry. The next time I’m concerned about your kid, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“Good. I don’t need any help raising my son.” Before she could pull away, I turned my back toward her and shifted Colton’s weight so I could reach my keys. He was getting heavy, but I wasn’t in the mood to admit she was right about anything, not even to myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Juli
After driving around for a little while, I finally made my way home. Remembering I still had Colton’s clothes in my trunk, I walked around to the back of the car to get them. Right beside his shorts was the bag holding whatever ridiculous piece of swimwear Thomas had picked out for me.
Damn ego. If I’d just let his comment go, I could be fucking in a pool instead of heading into an empty house to do an eight-year-old’s laundry.
I knew what he meant. Most parents probably wanted their kids to cure cancer or sit on the bench of the Supreme Court. I could even understand Thomas wanting his son to follow in his footsteps. What I hated was how he outright devalued my career, the gift my friends possessed that not very many people had, and an entire industry that kept millions of people, from actors to ticket-takers, employed.
Did he not understand how movies could be inspirational or educate the nation about social injustice? Simply letting someone forget about their shitty day for a few hours was equally important.
Did he not realize most people in the industry who were fortunate enough to have found success give back to those in need? He had been happy to get Marina and Tate on board for the center, but did he not think their work made a difference?
Did he not see how happy an hour or so at a studio getting made up like a zombie and an afternoon at a theme park based solely on movies made his son?
He probably didn’t realize how his words sounded, or maybe he did and was too much of an asshole to care. Either way, he’d shown how little he thought of my work and, by proxy, me.
Then he’d piled on the insult by jumping down my throat when I expressed a little concern for his kid. And how could I forget the way he fucking flipped out when I touched his wallet. I would never let him touch me again. He could drool as much as he wanted at meetings, because there was no fucking way I’d let him chase me away from the project. However, I wouldn’t give him another minute of my time after I either had a delivery service return Colton’s clothes or I gave them to Marina to give to Sawyer to give to Thomas. How such a good day could be bookended by complete shit, I’d never know.
I really hated that I’d miss the kid.
Even though I had no intention of using it, I kept my phone close. Five minutes after I’d climbed into bed, Thomas’s name appeared on the screen. It didn’t matter if he was calling to continue the argument or to eat crow. The fact that he called at all confirmed my victory.
Real mature, Juli, was the thought going through my mind as I plugged the phone into the charger and turned off the light. When I eventually began to drift off, I found myself wondering if Colton had any trouble falling asleep, and my concern had nothing to do with my stupid ovaries.
*
“Great work, Juli,” Peter, one of the owners of Tremont, said Monday morning as we walked from the parking lot to the one-story building. We were a major agency, but they were determined to keep the vibe of the company as down-to-earth as possible and opted to buy a five-thousand-square-foot building instead of renting space in a downtown high-rise.
There was a reason I avoided the office as much as possible, and this was it. Making small talk was not my idea of fun. Peter wasn’t that bad, but he was pretty much the only one who didn’t annoy the shit out of me. I was only required to come for meetings and handle paperwork, which was the reason for this particular trip.
“Thank you, sir,” I said instead of “Tell me something I don’t know.” There wasn’t much I could do that would get me fired, but I was always polite to the people in charge. It helped to have friends in high places.
“Those photos are still making headlines.”
“Did you see the video on YouTube? It had almost a million views over the weekend.” He had to have seen it, but I couldn’t help boasting. He’d started the ego stroking session, so joining in was the polite thing to do.
Impressed, as usual, he smiled and shook his head in appreciative disbelief. “What you have can’t be taught, and we were damned lucky to scoop you up.” I let them believe they’d chosen me, but in reality, I’d chosen them.
Even though they hadn’t blown up yet, I knew my friends had something special, and I wouldn’t take them just anywhere. I researched every firm in California and New York and chose Tremont. Since Peter and his business partner-slash-husband, Troy, didn’t know what I did about their newest clients, they were happy to sign a contract stating Marina and Tate were mine and mine alone. All I’d brought with me was a pair of mid-list young actors, and as I knew they would, less than a year later, they became Hollywood royalty.
We took the last few steps in silence and when we arrived, Peter held the door for me.
“Your plan worked out well for Saul, as well,” he said nodding toward the guy barreling toward us. “Brady’s camp is in PR heaven. You did more for him in one night than Saul has in a year. I wouldn’t be surprised if his management team doesn’t try to convince you to add one more client to your roster.” Peter knew I would never take another client because I wasn’t willing to split my focus. That stipulation was added to my contract two years after I started working for Tremont. With a sympathetic look in Saul’s direction, Peter headed toward his office, leaving me to deal with the annoyance on my own.
Outside of how it affected my clients, I hadn’t paid much attention to what was being said about my “date” with Brady. I’d been busy on Saturday, and I really just didn’t care.
“I think ‘Bradyanne’ will be the next big thing,” was the first thing out of his mouth. Saul was way too enthusiastic over such a terrible idea. I took off down the hall toward my office, but he followed along behind.
“I didn’t think anything could be worse than ‘Marinate,’ but you’ve proven me wrong.” Just saying the word was painful. Most people loved catchy nicknames for their clients, but this was my great white whale. My best friends were not a couple of steaks sitting in a bowl of soy sauce in a refrigerator. No matter what I did, from the moment the name hit the Internet I’d never been able to put a lid on it. Funny enough, some people in the biz considered that fucking name to be one of my greatest achievements.
“Hear me out—”
Not wanting to encourage any further stupidity, I stopped in the doorway to my office, blocking his entrance.
“How about tomorrow night? Brady will pick you up in his Porsche and take you dancing.”
“Who goes dancing on a Tuesday night?” I asked, hoping he’d hear how dumb it sounded. “And my car is much nicer than his.”
“How about the next day?” Did he really think Wednesday was a better clubbing night than Tuesday? Hypocrite. The last time I went clubbing was on a Wednesday, and I’m not sure if I’d say that turned out well or not.
“She’s busy tomorrow night and the night after.”
Until that moment, I’d never understood the expression “jumping out of my skin.” After quickly getting my heart rate under control, I turned around and faced the impossible man who, of course, was sitting in my chair.
“How about tonight, then?” Saul asked, determined to win.
“She’s busy every night for the foreseeable future,” Thomas replied.
Coming around behind my desk, I physically pushed Thomas out of my chair and then dropped into it. “He’s right,” I said to Saul. “I’m busy every night for t
he foreseeable future.” With Tate’s guest spot on the horizon and things with the foundation ramping up, it was true. “Although I’m not sure why it’s any of his business.”
“But—”
“Sorry, Saul. I appreciate you helping me out, but it was just business.”
“No, it wasn’t,” a third male voice said from my doorway.
“Fuck me,” I said, shaking my head and dropping it into my hands. Since I didn’t keep a regular schedule, how did any of them even know I’d be there?
“Want me to kick them out, or do you want an audience this time? I bet that would be hot,” Thomas said, slightly loosening his tie.
“Will everyone please just shut up?” I shouted loud enough for them to hear over the bickering that ensued following Thomas’s inappropriate question.
Once I had their attention, I began going down the line. “Saul, the answer is no. Keep in mind I have the most leverage of anyone in this firm. Peter and Troy would gladly let you go if it made me even momentarily happy.”
Turning to Brady, I said, “I’m not quite sure why you’re here.”
“I wanted to bring you these,” he said, holding a bouquet of roses I hadn’t noticed before, “and ask you to go out with me again. For real this time. Doesn’t even have to be in public.”
“I’m sorry, Brady. Dating, romance, and all of that other touchy-feely crap make my skin crawl. It’s not personal. I thought I was clear with my intentions; I’m sorry if I led you on.”
Disappointment crossed his face, but based on the way he appeared to be thinking instead of feeling, I could tell it didn’t have anything to do with him liking me. Even though that’s precisely the kind of thing that would usually get my motor running, knowing he had a reason to push for more than a one-time, casual fuck left me no choice but to cross him off my to-do list.
Which brought me to Thomas. “Why the fuck are you here?” I snapped. He should have gotten the message after our argument and my subsequent silent treatment.
“We have unfinished business,” Thomas casually replied.
Saul had slipped out of my office, but Brady hadn’t, and the two remaining dicks were sizing each other up. Thomas wanted me for what I could do to his cock. Brady wanted me for what I could do for his career.
“If you recall, you still owe me one.” He pulled a small box from his pocket and leaned in close to show me. “I found this little silver bell and I can’t stop thinking about ringing it with my—”
Slamming my hand across his mouth, I leaned in close to his ear and harshly whispered, “Say it and you’ll no longer have a use for pussy.”
Dropping my hand, I turned back toward Brady. “I have a lot of work to do today, and I don’t have time for this. If you’ll both please excuse me.” Frustrated as hell, I jerked my hand in the direction of the door.
Brady backed out of the room, keeping his eyes on Thomas, who casually strolled toward him.
Finally.
Of course things were too good to be true. Just before crossing the threshold, the asshole abruptly halted his advance and shut the door in Brady’s face. The lock echoed as the tumblers fell into place.
“I’m tired, Tom. Please go.”
“Nobody calls me Tom except my mother,” he grumbled, which made me smile a little inside. His name had already been hard-coded in my brain as Thomas, which was a little disappointing now that I knew how much he disliked being called Tom.
“So, Tom. What’re you doing here?”
“Colton misses you,” he said nonchalantly.
“Is he the only one?” Please, God, let him say yes.
He shot me a look that was the epitome of “duh,” which made me feel a little better.
“How could he miss me? We haven’t spent that much time together.” I pretended to be extremely interested in the papers I pulled from my drawer. He didn’t need to know they were takeout menus some tree-hating idiot had printed and left in everyone’s mailbox.
“You gave him the best day he’s had in a long time.”
“He seemed to like me before Saturday.”
Thomas took a step back and ran a hand over the back of his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the whole Natalie situation. Perhaps he imprinted on you when he met you at the police station.”
“First of all, he isn’t a baby duck or a fictional werewolf. Secondly, why me? He spent a lot more time with the social worker.” For some unknown reason, I stood and took a step toward the infuriatingly sexy man. “Maybe he needs counseling or something?” Why did I care?
The defensive mask he quickly pulled into place reminded me of our argument. “Maybe you don’t know me well enough to know this, but the last thing I want is to be a mother, in any sense of the word. I’m the first to admit I have no fucking clue how to raise a child, but I have a gut feeling something’s wrong.” I just hadn’t realized it until I said it.
“Of course something’s wrong,” he yelled. “His own mother, the woman who carried him for nine months, gave birth to him, and raised him, used him to extort at least three men while doing her best to keep him away from his real father. Then she was arrested, causing him to have to spend hours at a police station, not knowing what was happening. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to see her a couple of hours a week with supervised visitation. If she goes to prison, who knows how often he’ll get to see her.”
“You want him to spend time with her after what she did?” That made absolutely no sense to me.
“I’m not sure how much he knows about the situation, if anything. He wasn’t physically injured, and hopefully, she’s learned her lesson. A boy needs both of his parents. I won’t stoop to her level by keeping him away from her out of spite.”
Well, shit. I didn’t expect him to be so rational. Was I just a vindictive bitch who wanted people to hurt just as badly, if not worse, than they’d hurt others?
Once again, I couldn’t figure out why I cared about this situation at all, but I knew there was something wrong. Something more than a little extortion. I just didn’t know what it was and couldn’t explain how I knew.
Walking away had always been easy, but this time I felt like I was letting someone down. But Thomas was right, this wasn’t any of my business. Somehow, I’d become too invested in both Thomas and Colton.
This conversation validated the decision I’d made the other night. It was time to move on, and I would never break the rules again.
Moving to the safety of my desk, as I switched on my computer, I switched off any personal connection I had to Thomas for the last time. “I have an idea for a kickoff to the fundraising campaign for CoH.”
“CoH?” he asked. The non-sequitur had obviously thrown him off balance. His anger was still nearly full blown, but it was now slightly diluted by confusion.
“Center of Hope. It’s what I’ve been calling the project since the thing doesn’t have an official name. It’s a place where people can go when they run out of hope, and it’s also a point from which hope originates, kind of like the middle of a circle. Dual meaning. A community center someone can go to when in need of hope, and a place in the center of the abstract theory of hope. Get it?”
Not wanting to give him a chance to tell me it was stupid, I waved off my digression dismissively and got back on track. “When I finish the proposal, I’ll email the document to the team.” Unable to look at him, I pulled up the project folder and opened the file in question. “I’ll see you at the next meeting.”
Most likely just as uncomfortable as I was, Thomas moved to the door without saying a word, but stopped before closing it behind him.
“It’s perfect.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Juli
Since I didn’t know many people with small children, I had no clue what time they went to sleep. Colton’s bedtime was nine on weeknights, so I figured a toddler being in bed at seven was a reasonable assumption. I should’ve asked when I called this afternoon. If I called now, would the
phone wake up the drool machine?
Not wanting to risk it, I decided to knock on Sawyer’s door instead of ringing the bell or calling. The lights were on and there was a car in the driveway, so it seemed like someone was home.
My knuckles began to ache after about three minutes; traditional knocking didn’t seem to be getting the job done. I could pound with the side of my fist, but that seemed rude. I could kick on the door, but in addition to being rude, I would scuff my brand new nine-hundred-dollar Louboutins, so that was a no go. Doorbell had the most chance of waking up the screamer, followed by the door knocker.
Phone it was.
Alissa was expecting me, so I tried her phone first.
On the verge of going to voicemail, she answered with half a ring to go. Instead of being greeted with “Hello,” I ended up with an earful of laughter.
“Hello?” I asked first.
“Hey, Juli?”
“Yeah. I’m out front.”
Before she replied, the front door opened and I was greeted with two small, grubby fists lurching at me. I dropped my phone in the bag slung over my shoulder and carefully pushed the door the rest of the way open.
“What are you doing?” I asked Alissa. The kid’s eyes, which were firmly affixed to me, lit up when she bent over to set him on his feet. “Please don’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Do you see the way he’s looking at me?”
“He likes you,” Alissa said with a stupidly bright smile.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Madison!” Alissa hollered.
“What’s up?” the kid’s mother asked as she dashed into the foyer. “Hey, Juli.”
“Will you take Gabe for a few minutes?” Alissa asked.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to give him back.” Madison picked up her son and headed back in the direction from which she came.