by Diane Albert
Yep. Definitely a halter top moment, and from the look on Derek’s face she wouldn’t like the way this was about to play out.
“Is something wrong, sir?” she asked.
“Not at all. I’ve had a look at Mr. Rory’s version of the proposal, and it’s flawless.”
His…version of the proposal? Stephanie stumbled back, her printouts clutched to her chest. “What?”
Rodgers lifted both eyebrows slowly, a glint of malice in his eyes. “You didn’t know I’d asked him to prepare a separate presentation? I’d thought he would have told you. You should thank him. He’s just saved your job.”
Thank him? That…that backstabber. That cheat. He’d been working with Rodgers all along, and now he’d stolen her case from her. He’d lied, plotting against her while she’d slept in his bed. The entire time he’d been telling her about playing the game, he’d been playing one himself.
And he’d completely played her.
Stephanie backed away and swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I’m glad you’re happy now,” she said, and turned her back on them both.
Derek’s cold man mask slipped a bit, letting her see the pain in his eyes. Pain that echoed hers. “Stephanie, wait,” Derek said. “Let me explain.”
“Don’t. You don’t need to.” She let her worthless stack of printouts drop and fumbled for the doorknob, barely able to see past her tears. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going home early. I have a headache.”
She flung herself into the hallway and headed for her desk. She didn’t even bother to shut off her computer. She just grabbed her purse and nearly ran for the stairs, shoving past anyone in her way. She needed to get home before she lost it. Everything she’d worked so hard on for the past year was now garbage. Time wasted, when Derek had just outmaneuvered and outperformed her in just a few days.
She really wasn’t cut out for this.
“Stephanie!” Derek caught her at the stairwell door. He grasped her elbow, his grip firm but gentle. “Please let me explain—”
“Please?” She yanked free and glowered up at him. “Did you listen to me when I asked you to please stay out of my job? Did you?”
“I tried!” he thundered. “Rodgers made it clear you’d be fired if I didn’t do as he asked. What would you do if you lost your job? Where would you go? I only wanted to help.”
“And I didn’t want your help.” She lifted her chin. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “If you’d really wanted to help, you’d have let me do this on my own. If you’d really wanted to help, you’d have had a backbone and stood up to him.” She sniffled, nearly choking on the knot in her throat. “But I guess that’s too much to expect from someone so spineless he’s still following Daddy’s rules.”
His face turned cold. His eyes hardened. “This isn’t about me.”
“Isn’t it?” She shoved him; he stumbled back. “You need to control everything. You tried to control me. You say you don’t want to be like him, but you’re still doing everything you can to be better than everyone else so you can win his approval. You had to be better than me, when this was my opportunity to prove myself. Not yours. Mine.” She backed away until her hips hit the stairwell door. “He’s never going to approve of you because you don’t approve of yourself. But I hope you’re happy,” she bit off. “Because you still won.”
He only looked at her, cold as the grave, the warm, laughing man she’d unearthed once again buried under frigid stone. She couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. Couldn’t stand any of this. She pushed through the door and ran, taking the stairs two at a time. She didn’t stop running until she was in her apartment with the door locked behind her. And when she stopped running…she started crying.
And then couldn’t stop.
…
He’d fucked up.
He’d been trying to help her. Hadn’t he? He thought back on his entire life. His ruthless drive to succeed. The consuming desire to make something of himself, to the exclusion of his personal life. Was he really so fixated on winning, just to gain the approval of a man he cared nothing for? Did he really need to triumph over his father so desperately that he’d ruined everything with Stephanie to do it?
Daddy issues, she’d called it. And right now, as he stood outside her apartment building and looked up at her window, he felt like a stupid, immature little boy. He’d needed to be right. And in doing so, he’d lost her.
When he’d just learned how to love her.
He’d come to respect her. Admire her. But something else had grown, over tortilla chips and paper-cup champagne and her bright, warm laughter. Something deeper than lust. Something that made him want to find out just how real this fake relationship could be.
He’d let that love blind him. He’d thought because he loved her, he could beg her forgiveness after he’d helped her. That things would have been fine in the end. She would have her job, and he would have her.
Except he didn’t. He’d seen the look in her eyes. She wouldn’t forgive him.
He took the stairs to her floor and stood outside her door for nearly a minute before he knocked. At first he thought she wouldn’t answer, but then the deadbolt slid. The door opened a crack, the chain still latched. He could only see a sliver of her face, but it was enough to clutch a fist of pain around his heart. Her eyes, nose, and lips were reddened and swollen, her cheeks wet with tears.
He’d done that to her.
“Stephanie,” he tried, then fell silent. What could he say?
“Just go home, Derek.”
He gripped the door, stopping it from closing unless she wanted to break his fingers “Don’t send me away. Not like this.”
Tears swam in her eyes. Because of him. He’d been such a fool.
“I just want to be left alone right now,” she said.
Even though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, he forced himself to step back. He hadn’t listened before. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice—even if every primitive instinct in him was telling him to stay. To fight for her. To fight to discover what they could be.
“I’m…I’ll be at my hotel. Call when you’re ready to talk.”
She shook her head. “Go home. Back to D.C. We’re done, Derek.”
He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to shout, to do something, anything to make her understand how he felt, but nothing came. Nothing but his damnable silence, and his father’s voice taunting him.
Love is for weak men. Are you weak?
Yes. If having Stephanie meant being weak, then she’d stolen his strength from the moment she’d smiled at him.
“You can’t mean that,” he said. “Let’s take a few days to think, I—”
“I don’t need a few days.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “This was just an arrangement of convenience. We had a business contract. It’s over now.”
“No.” He gripped the door tighter and tried to push it open. The chain resisted him. “It was more than that. You know it. I admit—I was stupid and insensitive. But I…I…”
She flinched. “Don’t say another word. I can’t do this right now, Derek.”
Her voice cracked on the last word. The door slammed in his face. He barely had time to move his hand. The sound of her sobs came through the thin wood, each one a bullet of regret and guilt, punching holes through his gut. He rested his brow against the door. He should leave. Give her her privacy.
But he couldn’t go.
He sat outside her door, his back against the wood. He couldn’t leave her when she was crying, but she wouldn’t accept his comfort. He could only be here for her, silent and unobtrusive. There was no way he could walk away from her. Not like this.
He would sooner rip his own heart from his chest.
Chapter Fifteen
She would have been able to handle it if not for the note.
Stephanie sat at her desk with bleary eyes and an aching head. She’d hardly slept last night. She’d pulled a pillow over her head and lay there, wide awake and
miserable. By morning she’d told herself to get over it and move on.
Then she’d found the note on her door.
I never meant to hurt you.
No more. No less. Derek hadn’t tried to text or call her. Just that simple note on a square of ivory paper, in the same neat, precise handwriting as that card that had made her choke with laughter and tears, what felt like a million years ago.
She’d crumpled it and thrown it on the coffee table. She’d wanted to throw her ring after it, but she couldn’t.
The show must go on.
She stared at her blank computer screen. There was no point in turning it on. It was a waiting game now—and when Rodgers called her to the conference room at ten, she knew it had to be about Wheeler. The Weyland Project. The project that, no matter what she was able to do with the funding, would never feel the same when everything she’d done to help these people had all been part of some sick corporate game. A game she’d lost.
She got up and made herself walk down the hall. It felt like walking down Death Row. Rodgers was waiting for her in the conference room. She couldn’t meet his eyes. “Good morning,” she said stiffly.
“Hn.” Rodgers eyed her. “Wheeler will be here shortly. I have it on good authority that he’s quite impressed, and planning to accept the contract. Congratulations. It looks like you have a job.”
She swallowed past the tears just waiting to come. She’d been desperate to hear those words for nearly a year now, but suddenly they were bitter and heavy. “I didn’t write that proposal. Derek did.”
Rodgers snorted. “I don’t care if an Oompa-Loompa wrote it. For all intents and purposes? It was you. Sweet little Ms. Miller with her sweet little fiancé for Wheeler to swoon over.”
“You want me to take credit for something I didn’t do?”
“If you want to get ahead in this business, you’ll learn to take every chance you can to advance. This one’s being handed to you. Don’t ruin it.”
She shook her head. “I won’t lie anymore. I refuse.”
Rodgers flicked her a cold, disdainful look. “I suggest you check your conscience at the door. It has no place in the business world.”
“No. Forgetting my conscience was the first mistake I made.” Her knees were shaking, but she made herself continue. Pride wouldn’t let her bite her tongue any longer. “My second was lying about my fake engagement, because you said I had to. Mistake number three? Continuing to lie over the last two weeks. Number four was ever believing a word out of your mouth.” Every word gave her strength. He was vile, loathsome, and she couldn’t believe she’d ever thought herself beneath him. “Number five would be pretending I wrote that proposal. I think I’m good with quitting at four.”
He sneered. “You don’t get to speak to me that way.”
“Why not? You speak to me like I’m trash.” She laughed. She knew she was destroying her career, but she’d stopped caring. “You know, I don’t think this was ever about Wheeler. I bet all those times Mr. Wheeler demanded that Derek come to our business meetings, that was really your idea, wasn’t it? First you thought you had an angle, and you nearly beat us all to death with it trying to emotionally manipulate Wheeler—and you’re the reason it took so long to close the deal, turning every meeting into a social event.”
God, no wonder Wheeler had always turned the topic away from business. He wasn’t fixated on her relationship with Derek. He was just trying to be polite. She’d been so blind. So stupid. If Wheeler was so big on bringing family into business, why had they never met his wife?
Because he kept his business and his personal life separate, that was why—no matter his values. The blurred lines, the deceit, this entire ridiculous mess had all been Rodgers’ doing.
“But then you found out more about Derek,” she continued, “and you saw dollar signs, and you’ve been using me to reel him in. Admit it.”
Rodgers snarled. “You ignorant, ungrateful little—”
The door opened, and Wheeler stepped inside. His smile was blithe, cordial, utterly oblivious to the tension making the air tight and so very hard to breathe. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Rodgers wiped away his scowl and replaced it with his perpetual sneering smile. “Please, sit, both of you.”
Wheeler took a chair opposite Rodgers’ desk. Stephanie claimed the seat at his side and knotted her hands together in her lap. If she kept her mouth shut, Rodgers would seal the deal. Could she really sit here quietly and let that happen? Let him lie to Wheeler and take his money?
Wheeler folded his hands over his stomach. “I reviewed the latest draft of the proposal last night. I must say—”
“Mr. Wheeler,” Stephanie interrupted, her heart skipping a beat. “Might I have a word with you? Alone?”
He blinked, and both bushy eyebrows rose. “Certainly.” He glanced at Rodgers. “If we could have a moment?”
“Of course.” Rodgers stood. His smile was oily, but the look he threw at Stephanie was pure venom. A useless warning; she had already sealed her fate. What did she owe him now?
The moment Rodgers closed the door behind him, Stephanie took a deep breath and just blurted it out, before she lost her nerve. “The file you have? It’s not mine.”
Wheeler reached into his briefcase and withdrew a stack of pages. “This one?”
“Yes. That one. It’s not mine.”
“I see. Then whose is it?”
“Derek’s. I didn’t know he’d done it until yesterday.” She made herself look him in the eye. “I can’t take credit for something I didn’t do.”
“Ah.” With a small smile, Wheeler set the proposal down on the desk. “Getting help from your fiancé isn’t the worst thing in the world. I appreciate your honesty, though.”
“That’s the problem.” Stephanie shook her head. “He’s not really my fiancé.”
Wheeler froze, his arm still outstretched. “Excuse me?”
“It’s all a lie. Derek isn’t my fiancé. I’m not even engaged.” She curled her hands into fists. The ring suddenly felt far too heavy. “It’s all been a lie to make you think this is a good, old-fashioned, family-friendly business. But it’s not. I’m not.”
“I see. That explains quite a bit.”
He closed his eyes, falling silent and still. He remained motionless for so long she started to wonder if she’d caused his aging heart to fail. Just her luck. Talk about classic Stephanie; kill her investor with a heart attack.
Just when she was tempted to hold her compact mirror in front of his mouth to check for breaths, he sighed. “Was this your idea, or your boss’s?”
“Does it matter?”
His voice was clipped. “It does.”
“It was his idea.” She blinked back the wetness blurring her vision. She couldn’t cry. “But I’m not saying that to shift the blame. I went along with it. I’m as guilty as he is. Derek is my brother’s friend. Mr. Rodgers roped him into it, but he played along to help me. He didn’t want me to l-lose my job. But I can’t keep lying. Not when it means taking millions from you under false pretenses, no matter who it might help.”
Wheeler nodded slowly, his every movement tight and controlled. “I do appreciate that you were so forthcoming with the truth, Ms. Miller. This certainly changes everything. Will you excuse me?”
She nodded and lowered her gaze, watching her fingers twist around each other in her lap. Her shoulders felt heavy, but her heart felt light. Rodgers was probably already drawing up her termination papers, but at least she’d done the right thing.
“I’m sorry for my part in this, sir.”
He stood. “I don’t blame you. But I do respect that you told me the truth.”
He left the room, closing the door behind him. The hard slam echoed in the silent room. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the window. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The weatherman had predicted rain. For once she had an umbrella, and wouldn’t need Derek today.
She smiled through her tears. She was an idiot. She needed him. She’d always needed him, and she’d pushed him away.
She stood, left Rodgers’ office, returned to her cubicle, and dumped a cardboard file box out over the desk before beginning to pack her things. There was no point in waiting. There was only one inevitable outcome. Rodgers was an asshole, and she’d not only defied him, but cost him millions in investment funding.
Not to mention his quarterly bonus check. He’d probably meant to buy a new Mercedes. Or a house in the Hamptons. Without that, his life would be so hard.
She was so done here. She could only hope, if Wheeler made enough noise, that someone with more power than Stephanie would make Rodgers pay.
She sensed someone watching her, and lifted her head. Rodgers stared at her with icy contempt, a vein pulsing in his forehead.
“You,” he said, “have just ruined the entire Weyland Project. I hope you’re happy. Millions of the underclass will now no longer receive the aid they need.”
“Don’t.” Anger and grim resignation stole her fear. How had she ever been afraid of this pathetic, sniveling liar? “Don’t even pretend it was about them. This was all about you and the money. If you cared so much about the poor, you’d give up your paycheck to help them.”
He flicked his fingers and turned away. “Security will escort you from the building.”
She flipped the middle finger at his back, but bit her tongue. She’d said enough for one day. Enough for a lifetime. It wouldn’t change anything, anyway. Rodgers thought he’d won. Even if he’d lost the Weyland Project and Wheeler, he still had Derek.
And she wanted to rip him right out of the scheming bastard’s claws.
No. Derek could take care of himself. Her protective fury was wholly unfounded. He didn’t need her. She’d just been a charity case, after all. He knew how to handle men like Rodgers. He knew how to handle her. Maybe she’d just been another pawn in the game. She hoped he had a long, happy relationship with Rodgers and his money, but she was through.