by Claire Adams
“Oh, don't be like that,” Renée said, rolling her eyes. “I gave you some space. Now it's time to get over whatever it was you were thinking and fix our relationship.”
“That's not going to happen,” I said exasperatedly. “Renée, we broke up. You need to learn how to let things go.”
“You know the saying, everything worth having is worth fighting for?” Renée asked, shaking her head. She came around the desk towards me, putting her hand on my arm. “I know you weren't sure about us, but I know it's just because you were scared of the commitment. But I can help you with that. You don't need to run off with some new girl. You can be with me. We'll take things slowly, I promise.”
“Not going to happen,” I said, shaking her hand off my arm. “Renée, we had fun. But that's it. It was just sex and nice dinners, nothing more. I enjoyed them, and I'm sure that you did as well. But we aren't soulmates. There's nothing to fight for.”
“That's not true, and you know it,” Renée said. “You told me you loved me.”
“I told you that, but I don't think I meant it,” I sighed. “I'm sorry, Renée, but I didn't feel anything for you. And deep down, I don't think you felt anything for me, either. You might like the idea of loving me, but that's not the same as loving me. I don't regret the time we spent together, but I'm not going to pretend that we had some deeper connection.”
“That's not true!” Renée cried, looking like she wanted to stamp her foot and throw a proper tantrum.
I rolled my eyes. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” I said, already moving towards the door. “Whatever we had, whether we loved one another or not, it's over. I'm with someone else now.”
Renée snorted derisively. “That woman,” she said. “Darling, I'm just trying to protect you.”
“I'm not exactly the kind of man who needs protection from a woman,” I scoffed.
“Are you sure?” Renée asked. “Is that woman still living with you?”
“Janice?” I asked, deliberately trying to be evasive. “Janice has never lived with me; she just comes over to work during the daytime.”
“Not Janice,” my ex said, rolling her eyes. “The other woman; Lexi.”
“That's none of your business,” I said.
“I looked into her background,” Renée told me. “She's bad news, Andy. She comes from a broken home, and she hasn't had a steady job in years. I'm surprised that she's even been able to feed that kid of hers. She probably has to steal to support them.”
She paused, looking expectantly at me, but I didn't say anything, figuring that it was best to let her get it all out of her system before I reiterated my request for her to get the fuck out of my office. Sure enough, she continued, sounding increasingly agitated.
“Now she doesn't even have to steal, though, does she? She's convinced you that her kid is yours, and you'll do anything for her now. But she's just some fucking gold digger chasing after your money. She's just trying to get her claws into you and to drain you of everything you have.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “A woman doesn't have to be from a broken home to be a gold digger,” I said. “Maybe you're just jealous because your skills as a gold digger were bested by hers.”
Renée gaped at me. “I'm not a gold digger!” she cried. “I'm not after your money! I love you. You know that.”
I shrugged. “You're a beast in the sack; I'll give you that,” I said. “But I'm sorry, Renée, I don't really find you all that interesting. Whether you're a gold digger or not, we won't work out. I'm not interested in trying anymore.”
“I can't believe you would say that,” Renée snapped. “I'm not a gold digger. You were the one who took me out to the fancy places and the new clubs. You were the one who bought me gifts when you traveled. I didn't ask for any of those things.”
“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And if I didn't take you out to nice restaurants and clubs on the weekends, you'd sulk and throw a hissy fit. If I didn't give you gifts when I came back from a business trip, you'd pout. You may not have asked for those things in so many words, but you wouldn't have dated me if I hadn't spent money on you. Don't go pretending that you're some saint.”
“And things are so much better with Lexi, are they?” Renée snarled. “You never buy her gifts or take her out places? You only let her live in your home and eat your food and have Janice take her brat to the park.”
“What's going on between Lexi and me is none of your business,” I told her, beginning to lose my patience. “Now, if you'll please leave.”
“That bitch!” Renée practically howled, and I was glad, not for the first time, that my office was soundproof and no one else could hear her ranting. “She's just some sort of office slut loser!” she shrieked, hardly making sense anymore. “The only thing that she's managed to do right in her life is get knocked up. She's a slimy, good-for-nothing con, and I can't believe that you're letting her get away with it!”
God, what I wouldn't give to be able to slap her for saying those things about Lexi. Unfortunately, I knew that if she walked out of my office with a bright red handprint on the side of her face, things were going to get awkward fast. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, and my nails dug half-circles into my palms.
But Renée wasn't done yet.
“And that brat of hers! You don't like kids. You've never liked kids. I can't believe you're putting up with that thing living in your house. It probably makes a mess everywhere and bothers you when you're trying to work, doesn't it?”
“She,” I said, even though I knew that Renée was far from caring at this point. “And the only thing that you've ever managed to do right in your life was being born into a wealthy family.” I started to realize that part of what made the woman so fiery in bed was symptomatic of a more unstable personality than I'd ever noticed. “Renée, I want you the hell out of my office, and this time, I'm not asking nicely.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked, a taunting note to her voice. “Everyone knows I'm your girlfriend. No one's going to want to intervene in a lover's quarrel.”
“I will call security, and regardless of what you seem to think, they will be on my side,” I threatened, my voice low and dangerous. “I am the owner of this company, and I pay those guys to remove unwanted disturbances, after all. I don't care if they have to drag you out kicking and screaming: they will make sure that you're no longer a nuisance here. And if you ever show up here again or show up at my house, I will have you arrested for trespassing. Do I make myself clear?”
Renée stared at me for a long moment, looking torn between disbelief and fury. Then, she spun on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind her hard enough that the glass rattled.
I massaged my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Already, my good mood from that morning had evaporated. And a glance at my watch showed me I had only five minutes until my first meeting.
I took a few deep breaths and then went to quickly glance over my notes before heading to the conference room.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lexi
When Andrew had first told me he had a private yacht, for some reason, I'd thought that he was joking. Of course, it only made sense, given that he also had a private jet, but where the jet was in some ways practical, the yacht just seemed like an unnecessary splurge.
When he suggested that we take a family outing on the boat for Independence Day, I had hesitated. But after being assured of all the ways that Emma would be safe on the yacht, I'd caved.
I was glad for it now, too. The weather was beautiful that day, and Emma was thrilled to be out on Puget Sound.
I was pretty thrilled as well. Andrew's yacht was just as swanky as I might have expected, with a full bar, a few staff members, and plenty of food for a whole army of people. But other than the staff, it was just the three of us there, having a nice and relaxing day together.
Andrew got the grill going midway through the afternoon and had burgers cooking up in s
hort order. “Can I get you another drink?” he asked me, noticing that my iced tea was empty.
I smiled at him. “I can get it,” I told him. “You just keep those burgers cooking.”
“Relax,” Andrew said, plucking the glass out of my hand. “I have to go inside and grab a few more things anyway. It's not a problem to refill your drink on the way.”
“Can't argue with that,” I said with a laugh, settling back down on the reclining deck chair, soaking up the sun.
Not that I really ever tanned all that much, but it was cozy and warm there, and I was going to take full advantage of it. Emma was off with Janice, trying to spot dolphins at the front of the yacht. I could watch them from a distance, but it was “me” time at the moment.
I watched as Andrew headed inside the yacht with my glass, thinking as he went that I was starting to love the man.
Wait, what? I wondered where that thought had come from. I was starting to like Andrew more and more, the longer we stayed with him, but I didn't know when I had jumped from “like” to “love.” The more I thought about it, though, the more it felt right to me.
It was exactly what I'd told him, once. After Emma was born, I looked for dads for her, rather than just looking for good boyfriends for myself. But Andrew wasn't just perfect with Emma; he was also a gentleman when it came to his interactions with me. And although he'd once been incredibly rude to me and so commitment shy, I started to see those things change.
He’d cut back on work and spent more time with us, and he was friendly whenever he did. He had come up with a couple ideas for our family days, even, although I had a sneaking suspicion he had probably asked Janice for recommendations on places that Emma might enjoy.
Whatever changes he made in his life, I enjoyed them. That said, I knew I had to be careful. I could sense that Andrew was still holding back, that he was still worried about committing to this. He still hadn't said that he loved me, and even though his actions hinted at that, it could also be simple affection. We had been living in his house for a while now. It was only natural that he would start to feel affection for me since Emma was our daughter. It didn't mean that he wanted to marry me.
“Stop thinking so hard,” Andrew said as he handed my newly-refilled glass back to me. He gestured around. “This day is supposed to be about relaxing and having fun.”
I laughed and rolled over on my stomach so that I could watch him better from my chair. “I am relaxing and having fun,” I promised. “Anyway, aren't you the king of over-working? I would have thought you would understand when someone was overthinking.”
“I understand it, of course,” Andrew mused. “But I don't want to see you doing it, today.” He lowered his voice, glancing around to see if there was anyone who might overhear us. “If you're having a hard time shutting off your brain, I could take you on a tour of the yacht.”
The way he emphasized the sentence left no doubt in my mind as to what that tour would entail, and I shivered despite the heat of the sun.
I smiled up at him and shook my head. “Not now,” I said. “But maybe later. I want to enjoy the sun for as long as I can.”
“You should put on some more sunscreen,” Andrew said, glancing towards the crystal-clear sky. “Want some help?”
“Sure,” I agreed, surprised that he would ask.
I sat up, and he sat on the lounge chair beside me, gathering my hair in his hands and then carefully moving it over one shoulder. His hands were warm, strong, and sure as he began to massage sunscreen into my shoulders. I made a soft noise, and he paused, hands drawing away.
“Sorry, was that too hard?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“No, it's just, I didn't realize I was going to be getting a massage out of having you apply sunscreen,” I admitted, biting my lip as my face flushed.
Despite the smell of sunscreen lingering in the air, there was something undeniably sensual about the feeling of his fingers as they pressed into my skin, kneading out the tension that I hadn't even known was there.
“Just making sure that it's rubbed in properly,” Andrew said after a momentary pause. If I had to guess, he sounded sheepish, but I couldn't picture him being anything other than cool and confident.
He slowly resumed his ministrations, taking far longer than he actually needed to lather up my back and shoulders. The moment was broken, though, when I turned to face him, and he swiped a stripe of sunscreen down my cheek.
I giggled and reached up to rub in the mark. “Thanks,” I told him.
“Anytime,” Andrew said. He glanced over to the grill and swore, suddenly leaping to his feet and going to flip the burgers.
“Don't worry, I'll eat these ones,” he promised.
I laughed and stood up, stretching and moving over to his side to inspect the damage. They weren't too burnt, but there would be a definite charred taste to them. “Give them to Emma,” I suggested. “She'll need hers cut up anyway and doused in ketchup, so we'll just cut off the burnt parts and she'll never know the difference. She usually doesn't end up eating much of her burger anyway. She likes the bun and the chips the best. And Janice's pasta salad.”
“Good idea,” Andrew said, already starting to fix a plate for Emma.
“Emma!” I called, waving an arm as she looked back at me. She flounced back over to us, followed by Janice.
“Did you see any dolphins?” Andrew asked.
“No,” Emma said, her face falling for a second. “But I seed the water monster!”
“The water monster?” Andrew asked, raising an eyebrow at Janice, who just smiled at him.
A little while later, we were all fed, and it was starting to get dark. Andrew joined me on my lounge chair and curled into my side as we watched Emma coloring pictures and singing cute, tuneless songs about how much she loved boats and being on the water.
“This is great,” I said to Andrew.
He stirred and blinked, as though his mind had been a million miles away. “It is great,” he agreed, squeezing his arms around me briefly. “And the fireworks are about to go off.”
I hummed in agreement. “I can't remember the last time I came down to see the fireworks,” I admitted. “I didn't want to bring Emma down when she was too young because she used to be really jumpy when it came to loud noises.”
“Emma mentioned that she hadn't seen fireworks before,” Andrew said with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
I frowned at him. “What did you do?”
He laughed, holding up both his hands. “You're getting to know me too well,” he said. “I paid for the fireworks show tonight.”
“You what?” I asked.
“I just wanted to make sure that Emma got the chance to see the very best fireworks show ever. To make this night really special. So, I donated a substantial amount of money to the city council, with the stipulation that it all went into tonight's celebration. And when they weren't sure if they could do that, I added a little extra money and said that they could keep the extra money if the money that I had originally agreed to donate went to the fireworks show tonight.”
I laughed. “Emma has a pretty generous dad, doesn't she?” I commented.
I leaned in to kiss him, appreciating the gesture. It was another of those things that I wouldn't have expected from him. I was pleased to hear that he wanted only the best for our daughter.
I sighed and settled in his arms, watching the evening grow darker. “It's funny how things work out for the best, isn't it?” I asked, thinking of where I'd been a year ago on the fourth of July.
I'd had a seasonal sales job at a local shop that got a lot of tourists in during the summer. I'd hardly had time to spend with Emma, and I'd been exhausted whenever I did have an hour or two of time for her. We hadn't gone to the fireworks because I'd been working late on the fourth. Misty had been watching her.
And now here we were, just a year later, sitting on the yacht of one of the preeminent businessmen in the city and waiting to watch the fireworks
from one of the best seats possible.
“Things always work out for the best, even if you didn't realize this was the way that things were going to work out,” Andrew agreed, watching Emma. He turned back to me. “I'm really glad you're here, in my life.”
“I am too,” I told him softly.
It was on the tip of my tongue to spill that revelation that I'd had earlier, about loving him, rather than merely liking him, but just then, the fireworks began to go off. It was probably for the best anyway. I wasn't sure that either of us were ready for those declarations just yet.
Emma jumped up and squealed as she watched the bright explosions of blue and green and gold as they sparkled across the sky.
“Boom boom!” she yelled, continuing to jump up and down.
Watching her as I sat there in the arms of this wonderful man, I couldn't picture my life getting any better than it already was. In fact, I was happy enough that I could feel tears in my eyes. Tears of joy. I might not have a job, and I might still be dependent on Andrew for everything from food to a place to live, but it felt like we were cobbling together a family, and I'd wanted that more than I had allowed myself to realize.
“Hey,” Andrew said softly, his long fingers coming up to brush away one of my tears as it traced a slow line down my face. “Are you okay?”
“Perfect,” I choked out, laughing. “The fireworks are beautiful.”
Andrew stared down at me for a long moment, his palm cupping my cheek. “So are you,” he said, and it should have been cheesy, but somehow it wasn't.
He kissed me, and I felt my heart swell with happiness. I wished that things could stay like this, forever. Just us, our family, there on the yacht, watching fireworks in the warm evening twilight. I was pretty sure that I'd never been so happy before in my life, and I wanted to hang on to it.
Andrew pulled back, breaking the kiss, but he continued to hold me close as we returned to watching the fireworks and our daughter's delighted antics.
Chapter Thirty-Two