by James, Avery
Ramon slapped him on the back before getting in the car and starting the engine. Harry stared off into the distance and thought about how he’d left things with Maggie. Then he walked to the passenger side and got in. He shook his head and sighed. You’ll understand if I don’t believe you. Her words stung, not because they were wrong but because they were so right. She had no reason to trust him, no reason to believe a word he said. He’d made promise after promise to her, only to break them all. He wished he could explain why he’d pushed her away, why he’d kept her from throwing away everything she’d worked for to be with him.
It was about more than the job. Maggie worked in his world, but she didn’t live in it. He’d seen how honest she was, how caring. People in his world didn’t open themselves up like that. They used each other. Family, friends, lovers—it didn’t matter. Everything was for personal gain. Hell, even his own father was using him to further his own interests. He didn’t want Maggie anywhere near that world. If she chose to work there, it was one thing, but he didn’t want her getting her personal life tangled up in his mess.
Still, as he strained and tried to find some hint of the jet in the wide-open sky, Harry wondered if he’d made a mistake. Even as he tried to convince himself he’d done the right thing, he was already starting to think of ways to win her back. He didn’t want to, but the thoughts kept creeping in. He wanted to see that smile again. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to be on that plane, holding her hand, telling her he’d do everything in his power to be with her, but that wasn’t possible anymore.
Drinking wasn’t the answer. It never was, but it would keep him, at least for a few hours, from doing something stupid—something like hopping on a plane and trying to win Maggie back. As he thought about Maggie, something else she’d said popped into his mind, something about keeping him from taking stupid risks. She wondered what she’d say about him doing the right thing, the smart thing, even if it hurt. There was no if about it. It hurt. It hurt more than he had known was possible.
“How did you put it before? This one’s on me,” Harry said. “I have to make things right.” He’d kept Maggie from throwing away her life for him. It had been stupid and reckless to put her in that position. He was mad at himself for ever letting things get that far, but he knew a lot of it had been beyond his control. He couldn’t deny how he felt about her any more than she could deny her feelings for him. He’d just gone about it the wrong way. He should have gone back with her. He should have taken her hand and said that he’d do whatever it took to be with her. But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. He had to face reality.
“You’re going after her, aren’t you?” Ramon said as he pulled the car into drive.
Harry shook his head no. “I want to,” he said, “but I can’t. I have to do what’s best for her.”
“And who says you’re the one who knows?” Ramon asked.
Harry shook his head. “No one,” he replied. “Let’s get that drink.” The sky was blue overhead. The sun was beating down, and the breeze felt wonderful as Ramon sped through the city streets. Harry tried to tell himself that he had done the right thing, but it didn’t feel that way. He felt gutted and empty. He felt alone. As Ramon drove, Harry stared up into the empty sky, looking for a sign.
***
As the plane cruised over the Eastern Seaboard, Maggie tried to focus her thoughts on anything other than Harry and the way he’d ended things, but it was no use. No matter how much she tried, she kept searching for some explanation for what had happened. Obviously, something had changed for Harry during the time she had been gone. Something had changed his mind. After spending the entire trip trying to convince her to run off with him, he’d suddenly wanted nothing to do with her. She wondered if someone had gotten to him, if his father had figured out what was going on and forced him to end things. No, that didn’t make any sense. He’d used her, plain and simple. He’d lived out his fantasy for a week, and when he was done with her, he’d tossed her aside.
It was a lesson. An expensive lesson—one paid for with heartache. Don’t fall for the client, she’d been told again and again. It will only cause trouble. She’d known from the start that Harry was trouble. Even before she had known who he was. She should have known better. Maybe he’d been sincere. Maybe he’d just wanted one last chance to see if he could fall in love, and he simply hadn’t. Maybe he’d thought he was sparing her feelings by not saying, It isn’t me. It’s you.
Or maybe he’d lost interest once she took control of the situation. He had loved pushing her boundaries, keeping her on her toes, seeing what he could get away with. Maybe once she’d asserted herself, he’d realized she wasn’t going to be his toy. Or maybe he’d just seen the real her and hadn’t liked it as much as he’d thought he would. Either way, it was her fault for opening herself up to him, her fault for getting emotionally invested. If she’d just stuck to her original plan and kept things light, she wouldn’t be upset. She’d be thanking him for saving her the inconvenience of ending things herself.
No matter how many times she tried to find a way to explain everything away, she came back to that same answer. She’d been an idiot to get involved with a guy like Harry, and she should have known better. By the time the plane landed, she was almost at peace with it, but that didn’t make it feel any better. As she got ready to disembark the plane, she realized that none of that mattered. She couldn’t change what had happened any more than she could change the weather. All she could do was control her reaction. It was over with Harry, and now she had a job to do. She had to rebuild. No Harry. No self-pity, and no regrets.
When Maggie had first applied for her job, Amy had told her that she wouldn’t have time for a personal life. At the time, that had seemed like a negative, but as she made her way down the steps to the tarmac, it seemed like a blessing in disguise. She wouldn’t have time to obsess over Harry and everything that had happened, and the sooner she put him out of her mind, the better. A part of her wanted to figure out what had happened. A part of her still wanted to save Harry from himself, but just because it hurt to be apart from him didn’t mean she should give in to her emotions. She was an adult, and she had work to do.
Speaking of work, Maggie was surprised to see a familiar pink trenchcoat as soon as she reached the tarmac. The coat and the woman wearing it were both unmistakable, even from a distance. “Abby!” she called. She was glad to see her friend.
“Work wife!” Abby shouted. “You’re so tan!”
Maggie looked down at her arms. She didn’t feel particularly tan. “It rained half the time we were there. It’s raining now,” she said.
“Well, that much more time for indoor activities,” Abby said.
“Abby,” Maggie said with mock indignation.
“What?” she asked. “I meant things like reading paperbacks, drinking tea, and jumping Gavin Howard’s bones.”
“I’m offended at the accusation,” Maggie said.
“That you slept with him?”
“That I only did so inside,” Maggie said. She surprised herself with the ease she felt joking about something that was driving her mad. She could joke with Abby about sleeping with Harry, but falling for him—that was a different matter. That’s how their relationship had always been. Even before Abby had helped Maggie get a position at Haven Communications, they’d been good friends. Abby had always been the oversharer, but Maggie always enjoyed a chance to surprise her friend.
Abby burst into laughter. “You didn’t.”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss personal matters. Either way, this stays strictly between you and me. After all, it’s your fault I didn’t know who he was.”
“You can thank me whenever you want,” Abby said.
“What makes you think I want to thank you?” Maggie said.
“Are you sure you were with Gavin Howard?” Abby asked. “Because there is no way that man is anything other than a god between the sheets.”
“No comment,” Maggie said.
<
br /> “You did, didn’t you?” Abby said.
“Let’s just get back to work,” Maggie said. “I’m sure there are a hundred things you need to catch me up on.”
“Okay, but you have to do something for me first,” Abby said. “How was he?”
“No comment,” Maggie said.
“Then no work,” Abby replied. “And let me remind you how juicy this current scandal is.”
“Juicy?” Maggie asked. “Who says that?”
“The national press,” Abby said. “Or at least they will be saying it if we don’t get our act together. This is big. Department of Justice probe big. We’re talking special prosecutors, Senate committees, protests. We’re talking major corporations taking multibillion-dollar hits to their market value.”
“Will you just tell me what’s going on?” Maggie asked.
“You know the price. Come on. Gossip. I’ve known you for how many years now? How many guys have I told you about in that time? How many interesting guys have you been with? If you ask me, I’ve earned a little gossip.”
“Fine,” Maggie said, “he was sweet, and he was fun, and it was good, but now it’s over. Is that good enough for now? Can you please let me know what’s going on at the office? Also, how did you know I’d be here?”
“You had me track Gavin’s plane, remember? Also, Amy called and told me to get out here to pick you up.”
“She knew I was coming back?”
“Yeah, and she wants to see you first thing tomorrow morning. She cleared out her schedule in order to see you. This all just happened like an hour ago.”
“Why does she want to see me?” Maggie asked.
“She won’t say. She just said it was important that she speak with you as privately as possible. Now let’s get going. I’ll catch you up on everything on the way back to town.”
Abby launched into an explanation of everything that had happened. Some senator had gotten caught by his wife while with his mistress at one of Harry’s father’s hotels. The senator’s wife had gone thermonuclear and started selling stories to every tabloid and paper she could find. What had started as a simple sex scandal had ballooned to a full-fledged Department of Justice investigation into business deals and vote buying for nearly a dozen legislators, including the soon-to-be divorced senator. Avalon Hotels was at the center of all kinds of illegal activity and nepotism. Haven Communications was representing half of the lawmakers and businesspeople in question. Some were guilty as sin, while others had gotten caught in the storm. All of this compounded Stanton Howard’s original sex scandal and threatened to bring his entire empire to its knees.
Maggie pretended to listen and nodded whenever she thought she heard a pause long enough to merit a response. This was the kind of case she’d dreamt of when she’d first taken the job. It was full of intrigue and power players, and it was going to have a real effect on the way Washington worked. Instead of being excited, she barely registered any of it while Abby went on. This was the kind of case that could make her career. She should have been thrilled. Instead, she wondered why she felt so empty. Maybe getting over Harry wasn’t going to be as simple as she thought.
One step at a time, she told herself. She just had to meet with Amy, get her new assignment and forget all about Harry. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to see him again. Maybe it would be hard to get over him, but soon enough, he’d be a distant memory. In time, she might even come to believe that he had done her a favor. Maggie tried to convince herself of this, just like she tried to convince herself that what she was feeling was anything other than heartache.
Chapter 20
Drinking was supposed to make it easier. It was simple, really. It was an anesthetic, meant to dull the pain long enough for him to move on to the next thing. At least, that was the idea. It was supposed to make things easier, but instead Harry’s head felt like it was on fire. It wasn’t just the hangover. To be honest, Harry wasn’t even sure if he was hungover. He drank with Ramon for a few hours in some hole-in-the-wall bar, but he never got his mind off of Maggie. Drinking had only made things worse. Even after he got back to the hotel, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about what he could have done differently. He tried to busy himself by packing for his flight, but it didn’t help.
By the time his private plane landed outside D.C., he still didn’t know what to do next, but he knew he had to do something. He wondered if he should call Maggie. He wondered if he should find a way to meet with her. He thought through every possible scenario in his mind, but they all seemed like they would end in disaster. What was worse, every moment he spent not thinking about ways he’d screwed up and ways to fix it was spent thinking about how wonderful it had been to be so completely open with her. He’d never met anyone like her before. She was smart and beautiful, and she made him a better person when she was around.
He wanted to be better. He wanted to be the man she thought he could be, but he didn’t know how to start. He wondered if a distraction would help clear his head and give him time to come up with a plan. Of all the bad decisions he’d ever made, making her leave was probably the worst. Yet some part of him knew that he’d been right not to take her away from her life. He had just been too shortsighted to realize that he needed to find a way to make himself part of that life.
Soon enough, he would be in her life again, but not in the way he wanted. He would be her client. He supposed that that was better than being nothing to her at all. Harry had been so lost in thought thinking about Maggie that he hadn’t even noticed the black Range Rover Autobiography waiting for him on the edge of the tarmac. The sun was setting in the distance, in the light glinted off the smooth black finish of the SUVs hood as Harry approached.
There was no mistaking the car. Harry felt silly even referring to it as a car. It was a hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar statement. From the tinted glass of the privacy windows to the never-touched brush bar on front, it was a rolling barrier between his father and the rest of the world. It was his way of keeping the unclean masses, the ones whose hopes and dreams fueled his hotel empire, as far from sight as possible. The dark tinted windows gave Harry hope for at least a moment that his father was not inside, but he knew that wasn’t true. He tried to look through the glass but only saw his reflection instead. He looked tired, weary, older than when he’d left for Cuba a week earlier. He knew he was just projecting onto himself, but he wondered if his father would see a difference.
If his father had simply sent a driver, he’d have sent a town car. Instead, he’d come out in his personal car. It was the latest in a long line of Range Rovers that Harry had come to collectively call “The Dark Cloud.” Whenever it arrived, bad news surely followed or rather, waited within. Before opening the door to climb inside, Harry took a deep breath. There was only one way to deal with a situation like seeing his father. He had to ignore every urge he felt to take a swing at him and just wait it out.
“Stanton,” he said as he opened the door.
“Gavin,” his father said. “I see you still insist on not calling me Dad. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to try.”
Harry hadn’t called his father Dad since he was a kid. Their current arrangement wasn’t exactly filling him with fuzzy feelings of filial devotion. His father was one of only two people in his personal life who didn’t call him Harry. The other one he hadn’t seen in years, and he was hoping to keep it that way. Now, if I could only find a way not to see my dear old dad, I’d be all set, he thought as he climbed in the car.
“Can we just cut the bullshit? Just tell me what you want from me,” Harry said. Usually he had little patience for his father’s act, but at the moment, he had none whatsoever. If it wasn’t for his father, he’d be free to do whatever he wanted, free to see whoever he wanted. He and Maggie would have had a chance. He also knew that if it weren’t for his father, his scandal, and his stupid plan, he’d never have met Maggie in the first place, but that was little comfort. His father had this way of making Harry feel like an un
grateful twelve-year-old. He always talked down to him. The condescension was the part that Harry hated most.
“If that’s how you want to handle this,” his father said. “Don’t test my patience.”
“I don’t want to handle this at all,” Harry said, “but here I am.”
“Lose the attitude,” Stanton said.
“You’re incredible. You know that, right?” Harry said. “You’re the one who got caught with his pants down, and now I’m the one who’s supposed to do some kind of public penance for you by marrying some stranger?”
“You’re not marrying a stranger,” Stanton said. “Did they not tell you?” He shook his head.
“Did who not tell me what?” Harry asked. “Usually people don’t need to ask who they’re marrying.”
“Katrina Nussbaum,” Stanton said. He grinned. “She flies in tomorrow.”
“No,” Harry said.
“No what? It’s perfect. With your history, her public image and her connections, it’s a match made in heaven.”
“Forgive me if I think this deal was brokered somewhere else.”
“As much a smart ass as ever,” Stanton said. “I’ve arranged for you to marry one of the most beautiful and admired women in the country. And you get a job as the head of a multibillion-dollar empire. I’ll teach you the job. We’ll make up for lost time. It’s not like you don’t like her. Hell, you proposed to her yourself once.”
“Thanks for reminding me, Dad,” Harry said. Only two people in the world called him Gavin, his father and Katrina. Of course, Katrina had preferred Gav. That was before her reality show, the book deals, the fashion line. Years back, she’d dumped him for a prince—an actual, real-life royal.