Hangry
Page 22
My heart drops like a stone. Whatever tiny part of me that’d been hoping he could explain all of this vanishes entirely. That bit of hope Sasha had instilled in me goes up in flames, and I’m burning now, crashing and crumbling into wispy ashes.
Pretty soon, I won’t have enough energy left to hold my ground, and I’ll blow away in the wind. Or, even worse, I’ll cry.
“You don’t have to explain anything.” I bat around his arms until I reach the elevator call box and hit every button imaginable. Bradley watches, patiently, because we both know none of it will work. “Please just let me out of here.”
“I can’t.”
“Great. We’ll die together. How fitting.”
“Lexi, we’re not going to die. Just let me explain—”
“Fine, then riddle me this.” I move toward him until we’re inches apart, and I pound a finger against his chest. “Why’d you sleep with me? Did you think it would make everything okay when you finally got around to mentioning your gym’s expansion?”
“I’d hoped—”
“Hoped what? That I’d overlook it? All that talk about getting married and having children?!” I’m really on a roll now, and I have no interest in letting Bradley talk at all. I’ve been stewing on this speech for the whole ride over here, and it’s my time in the spotlight. “Did you not think my business was important to me?”
“I really don’t understand what’s happening here. I’m not coming after your building.”
“Huh. Still interested in lying?” I wrinkle my nose. “Let me give you a hint. It’s a very bad choice.”
“Are you done?”
“No, I’m not done. I’m still pissed you led me on long enough that I actually slept with you. I had no intention of sleeping with you until we were pretty sure something could work, and now—”
“Now what?!” Brad’s reached a snapping point, his face darkening and his eyes turning to liquid lava. He reaches for one of my hands and links his fingers through it, backing me into the elevator wall. “These last few months have been the best goddamn months of my life. If you think I’d do anything—fucking anything—to ruin them, you are mistaken.”
He has me pinned against the wall, gently enough that I could wriggle out if I want. He leaves the choice to me. It’s not his arms holding me in place, it’s his eyes. He’s so fiercely stoic that it gives me pause.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy every second of being with me,” he murmurs against my cheek. “We both know that’d be a lie, too. So now that we have that out of the way, let’s discuss business.”
“Business,” I breathe, although my heart is racing against my chest. “That’s exactly what Leo said.”
“I have no idea why Leo came to your restaurant, or what he said to you. The only thing I can figure is he realized I’m onto him.”
“Onto him?”
“Leo has been skimming from me. From our business.” Brad eases his hand out of mine and moves against the opposite elevator wall. “I had a sneaking suspicion somewhere around the time we first ended up stuck in the elevator together. I didn’t have proof until yesterday.”
Even though I’m royally pissed at him, the absence of his hand in mine aches some, as if he’s a part of me that’s attached in a very deep and real sort of way. I struggle with what to do for a moment, and then settle on listening to him.
“I’ve been setting myself up to break ties with him.”
“With Leo? But what about the gym? Your career?” My hands flail with frustration. “We can’t both have our careers ruined! How will we pay rent?”
He pauses for a smile. “Thank you.”
“Thank you?!”
“For adding the we. I’m praying there’s still a chance you’re not going to kick me to the curb.”
“You still have some explaining to do, buddy.”
He continues, and it’s a struggle to listen to what he’s saying. I’m aware I’m caving too easily, but I can’t help it. It’s like my subconscious wants him to be innocent and is grasping onto the slightest bit of hope that there’s a logical explanation for everything.
While I’m pondering this, Bradley has moved on to explain the intricate details of Leo’s plan to skim from the gym, the mathematical figures and facts which are entirely lost on me. The gist of it is that Leo’s pond scum, and he’s stealing from the company.
“You got proof yesterday?” I interrupt, trying to latch on to the highlights. “What does that mean for you and Leo? Are you saying you had nothing to do with him being at the restaurant today?”
The slightest hesitation before his response sets the whole of me to an instant rage.
“Are you kidding me?” I step toward him, about to lose control.
“I can explain!”
“You’ve been saying that for ten minutes, so freaking explain or don’t! Here I am, finally starting to believe you had nothing to do with this. If you lied, Bradley Hamilton—”
“I never lied. The only reason I was sneaking around today was because I wanted to throw my incredible girlfriend a surprise dinner.”
“Then what’s left to explain?”
“When I had a strong hunch Leo was skimming from me, even before I had proof, I decided that I wanted nothing to do with him. He was making these big extravagant purchases and buying fancy new vehicles with no noticeable source of additional income. I didn’t like it.”
“Great.”
“So, I began looking for real estate. A high school buddy of mine—”
“Bill,” I say. “Yeah, we met. I didn’t recognize him until today.”
“Well, we ran into each other and got to talking. He’s in real estate, as you know, so he started showing me some properties. He gave me a call weeks ago saying he’d found this great little place.”
“My little place.”
He gives a slow nod. “The first morning I showed up to your diner.”
A light bulb blinks on. “The morning I offered you a ride and you said no, and then showed up a few minutes later. Yeah, I thought you just were trying to avoid one-on-one time with me.”
“Avoid time alone with you?! I would’ve donated all my savings to charity for a car ride alone with you. But I’d already committed to the business meeting, which is why I declined.”
“Then he brought you there, anyway, and Kitty noticed you trying to slink away and yelled at you.”
“She told you about that?”
“Of course. We tell each other everything.”
“Well, yes. My head was spinning, and I’d meant to tell you that day about the mix up. But then I got to talking with Kitty and Sasha, and watching you work, and the day was just too great to ruin. The next day was better, and the days kept getting better and better.”
“Well, what’d you tell Bill?”
“No!” A look of shock crosses Brad’s face. “I told him no, of course.”
“Don’t of course me. How should I know?”
“Because I would never do that to you.”
“Really? Would you have done it to me if you weren’t trying to get into my pants?”
Brad’s face loses all emotion, and I know I’ve crossed the line. A step too far, and I feel horrible, despite the somewhat valid question.
I’m already standing close to him, but somehow, without even moving, Bradley seems to grow in size, to take up more space. The air turns chilly. “I would never, ever do something like that to you. I’d never do it to an acquaintance, or a friend. Let alone my best friend.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“I thought I’d been clear. I never stopped liking you, Lex. Loving you. Wanting you. Whatever you feel like calling it—but that’s not the only reason, or even the main reason I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I know, and—”
“I hoped you’d know my personality better than to assume the worst of me after all this time. I made a mistake, yes. I should’ve come clean right away when Bill took me to Minnie’s.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t tell you Bill brought me there because I didn’t want to upset you. I made it very clear to him that I never wanted to see your property brought up for sale again because of me, and that’s why I didn’t tell you. Never in a million years did I imagine it would be a problem.”
“Well, it is a problem.”
“Yes. I’ll fix it.”
We both stew in silence, an odd almost-ending to the conversation. It’s not like either of us have any place to go, and even if we wanted to, the elevator has us trapped.
Bradley reaches for the emergency stop button—the button that will let us disappear into our different apartments for how many years before we speak again. But the second his fingers brush against it, I swipe his hand away.
“We’re not doing this again,” I tell him, my voice mysteriously low. “You are not running away from this.”
“I think we’re done.”
“No, Bradley Hamilton, we are not done.”
“What would you like me to say? You thought I was capable of crippling your business on purpose.”
“No, I reacted emotionally, and I apologized. We’ve both made mistakes here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do this!” My voice echoes off the walls, and Brad looks slightly alarmed. “You can fight with me, Brad. You can yell and scream, or you can explain and be patient. You can curse or you can whisper, I don’t really care. But what you cannot do is run away from this—from me.”
He’s stunned into silence, and I can’t say that I blame him. I’ve never bursted so passionately all over anyone, but it’s not as if I have a choice. I need him, and I need him to explain. I need him to understand. I need him to face me this time, and not retreat into himself.
“If we’re going to be in a relationship, we can’t have a misunderstanding and not talk for three years,” I say. “We have to figure these things out. By talking. Or fighting. Or something. Just don’t pull away.”
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I’d rather be fighting with you than silent without you.”
The words are pouring out by this point, and I have absolutely no filter left. My chest heaves with the weight of everything, the distance between us. A distance that slips away the second Bradley reaches for my cheek and cradles it with his palm.
The next second, his lips are on mine, hot and angry and possessive. My arms loop around his neck and we tumble back against the wall, a mess of hurt and frustration linked by friendship and love.
When we pull away, we’re both puffing like Olympic swimmers coming up for air.
“Fine,” he says. “How do you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Fight!”
I watch him for a moment, struggling to see if he’s serious. Under my intent stare, a slice of awkwardness creeps into his gaze, and I realize he’s serious. He’s trying, really trying.
“Let’s not fight. I don’t want to fight.” I reach out and tug on his shirt before sliding down so I’m seated against the wall. “Come here.”
He scoots next to me until my entire left side is linked with his right one.
“I know you didn’t want to cripple my business, and I know you’d never do that. Just like you know how much I care about you, and I said the wrong things earlier,” I start with a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“So, what’s happening?”
“Leo, the asshole,” Bradley says. “He must have somehow figured out that I was onto him.”
“Bill,” we both say at once.
“I should’ve known he’d rat me out to the highest bidder.” Bradley gives a shake of his head, his fingers trembling against my knee with rage. “I must’ve pushed Bill too far when I told him I didn’t want to see your place again, and he realized it meant something to me. That you meant something to me.”
“So, he took the offer you refused and brought it to Leo.” I fill in the gaps. “And Leo put two and two together. He realized you were looking at other properties. Bill ratted you out to Leo in hopes Leo would pursue the offer.”
“Leo likely figured I’d have proof sooner or later, so he wanted to act first. Preemptive revenge.”
“They were taking the offer to Chris,” I say, suddenly resigned. “Who, if he’s halfway intelligent and wants to retire, should take it. If I were in his shoes, I would.”
Brad winces. “I am so sorry, Lexi. This is all my fault. Inadvertently, but I still screwed everything up.”
“No, you didn’t know. You were doing the right thing getting away from your sleazy business partner, and you enlisted the wrong person to help you. It’s not your fault.”
“Sure as hell feels like it.”
“It’s not.”
“Doesn’t change the fact they’re still trying to get you booted out.”
I’m silent because really, there’s nothing else to say.
“Unless they haven’t signed the deal yet,” he says, grasping at straws. “Maybe we could...”
I reach a hand out, circle it around his wrist. “Relax. It will be okay.”
An eyebrow raises as he glances at me. “But—”
“Look, it sucks. But businesses have recovered from worse. I’ll get through it.”
“We’ll get through it. You’re not going to lose Minnie’s.”
“Oh, yeah? You’ve got something up your sleeve that I don’t know about?”
“I’ll fix this.”
“Brad.” I turn to him, his eyes kaleidoscopes glittering back. “I don’t blame you for what happened.”
He leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to fix this.”
“First...” I glance over at the elevator doors. “Can you fix this?”
Chapter 31
BRADLEY
I have no idea how the hell I’m going to fix this. All I know is that Sasha and Kitty showed up tonight at my girlfriend’s apartment with enough wine to fill a wheelbarrow.
I know because I helped them lug it up.
After we managed to get the stupid elevator running again, Lexi and I parted ways so that she could go home, shower, relax—pamper herself a little. Take a few deep breaths. Think.
The sort of thing people need to do when their world is falling apart around them, and there’s not a whole lot that’s looking up.
And it’s all my fault.
If I had never stepped in that car with Bill...if I’d never listened to his stupid little sales pitch, maybe we wouldn’t be in this position. If I’d never partnered with Leo, or tried to separate from him before I had proof, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening.
I have the documents pulled out in front of me, and I’m pouring over them again. I’m not even particularly sure why; I already have the evidence I need—balances that don’t add up, expenses of his that match the amounts missing. It’s enough for me to confront him, and if I bring it to the court system or a private investigator, we’d have the rest of the evidence in days. Hours, even.
Leo’s guilty, and he knows it.
He also knows that I’ve figured it out, and that was my mistake. I should’ve gone straight to a lawyer, or an authority, and demanded this be taken care of without bringing in outsiders.
Now, my career is in jeopardy, as is Lexi’s. I’m not worried about the long run with Leo. In the long run, he’ll never win. But the short term has me concerned.
If he kicks Minnie’s out of their building, Lexi will not be in good shape. She put on a brave face back in the elevator, but I could read between the lines. She’s worried, and rightly so.
Hence the reason my papers are back out, and I’m determined to find a way to put an end to Leo and Bill’s horrendous plan before it can get off the ground.
It takes a few glasses of wine—borrowed from across the hall—and most of the evening before I formulate a plan. The idea comes to me slowly, in waves, almost sluggis
h thanks to the alcohol. But when it clicks, it clicks hard, and I know it’ll work.
In fact, I’m so confident that I leave my apartment and set off on foot. Leo’s townhome is a mile and a half from my apartment in the direction of our gym. As I walk, I go over all the things I want to say in my head. Most of them will never make it out, but I need the practice.
I reach the outside of Leo’s home some twenty odd minutes later. He bought it a few years back, just before we started our business. His perfectly landscaped garden blinks at me, tiny lights scattered throughout the pristinely organized shrubs that are surely taken care of by hired help.
The front door glares at me, new and shiny and too nice for this neighborhood. I raise a hand and pound harder than necessary on it. When nobody answers, I pound again. I know it’s late; I don’t care. These sorts of things can’t wait until morning.
Finally, on the fifth go-around, Leo’s head pops behind the window and peers outside. He flicks the front light on when he recognizes me and stands behind the window for a long moment.
“Open up,” I say. He probably can’t hear me, but he most certainly can read my lips. “Now.”
Leo throws the deadbolt, then opens the door. The chain is noticeably still in place, and I lean toward it. My nose is practically sticking between the open crack until he goes on and undoes the chain, too.
“Brad,” he says. “Did your girlfriend send you here?”
“Give it up,” I say. “I know exactly what you’re doing. If you’re hoping to drive a wedge between me and Lexi, it’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not trying to drive any wedges.”
Leo’s spray tan seems brighter than usual, and he has an earring in one lobe. He’s wearing some flimsy, old-looking t-shirt that probably cost him a hundred bucks. Even his eyebrows have been turned into weird, perfect little chili peppers above his eyes.
I can’t stand the man.
Even harder to digest is the fact that I let this go on so long; so long it very nearly ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t mean the gym.
“Can I come in?” I push past him through the doorway. “Thanks. I’d say next time you should ask me in, but there won’t be a next time.”