by Frankie Love
I’m starting to think Geoffrey might be right. Mum and Dad really have no idea what declaring bankruptcy means.
“Well, that’s a shame,” Mum says. “There are some employees, all over the world, who have been with us for decades.”
“How many storefronts are there?” Emmy asks. “Sorry, I don’t know much about business, but I’m curious.”
“There are twenty-five stores and around two thousand employees.” Geoffrey shrugs. “It’s a massive company. Granted, Tiffany’s has three times as many storefronts and employees, but they’ve cheapened their brand over the years. The King’s Diamond has remained the highest class store in the world.”
Dad clasps his hands and exhales loudly; clearly Geoffrey’s words have struck a familiar chord. “The world told Tiffany’s what they wanted. Cheaper and faster. Less quality. They want to pick out an engagement ring on the Internet and drop it into a virtual shopping cart. Geoffrey decided to follow suit.”
“We’re not fighting again at this meal,” Mum says, shaking her head. “Enough.”
The table goes silent, everyone seeming to absorb Mum’s words.
Finally, Geoffrey speaks. “Sorry, Mum,” he apologizes, dropping his head, as if the literal weight of this conversation is too much. “I’m sorry for mentioning it here. I know how hard this is.”
I have a sudden flash of memory—of when I voluntarily left for rehab. Geoffrey was in the car with Dad and me, shaking his head as the car stopped. As I got out of the car in the lonely countryside where the clinic was situated, I felt like such a fucking asshole.
And I remember the way Geoffrey shook his head that day, like I was such a fuck-up he couldn’t even look at me.
But now I wonder if I read that whole exchange wrong. What if he was saving me from more shame by dropping his eyes.
The same way he’s been trying to salvage Dad’s company. The same way he called me in Vegas a week ago, demanding I let Mum know for certain if I wasn’t coming. Maybe he didn’t call to be an ass; maybe he called to preserve something for Mum. Protect her, because he knew how much me not showing up would hurt her.
I watch him now, head bowed, reaching for Fiona’s hand across the table.
I don’t understand my family at all. Probably because I haven’t been around often enough to learn anything about them.
But as Fiona smiles tightly, her hand in my brothers, it’s as if I literally feel something pass between the two of them.
Maybe there’s a reason—other than being a complete prick—that Geoffrey hasn’t proposed for a decade. Maybe there’s a whole lot I have no fucking clue about.
“Everything okay?” Claire asks.
“I just need some fresh air.” I stand, dropping my napkin, not having an appetite anyway. “Just give me a minute.”
I leave the table and practically run outside. Memories stir inside me: me leaving home the first time, the second, the tenth, the twelfth, the twentieth. Always me leaving. Always Geoffrey staying.
I feel like an ass.
Worse than an ass, I feel like a fuck-up and a fool.
I don’t want to talk to Geoffrey, but I know I need to.
I start down the driveway, not having a clue where I’m going, just knowing I need to get out of the house filled with people I’ve let down, that I’m not good enough for.
Dad. Mum. Geoffrey. Claire.
Claire.
“Fuck,” I shout into the void of the dark sky. I’ve spent so long being this player in Vegas that I’ve forgotten who I am.
“You okay, there?” Geoffrey asks, running to catch up with me.
“Really?” I ask. “After all this time, now you come after me?”
“Fuck you,” Geoffrey says, shooting straight. “You’ve never wanted me around; I can take a fucking hint.”
I stop at the end of the driveway. The road forks to the left or right, and I have no idea where to go. Turning to Geoffrey, I ask the first thing that pops into my mind.
“Why are you marrying Fiona?”
“Because I love her?”
“Is that a question for me?”
“Of course not.” Geoffrey scowls under the light of the streetlamp at the end of the drive. “I do love her.”
“Why now, though, do you propose? After I show up engaged.”
“I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
“Too bad. You followed me out here, obviously you have something you want to discuss. Let’s start with this.”
“I haven’t asked sooner because the truth is ... I wanted to be more situated before I proposed.”
“You, more situated? What the fuck does that mean? You’ve worked for Dad for years. Surely you have a house and a boatload of cash.”
He shrugs. “It’s stupid, but I always said I wanted to make ten million dollars, on my own, before I got married. I wanted to give Fiona the absolute best start to life she could imagine. So I’ve been taking my time. I’m not even thirty; it’s not like I’ve kept her waiting forever.”
I stare at him, incredulous. I always assumed he hadn’t married her because he was an asshole.
“So what made you change your mind?” I ask. “Why now, when things are financially more rocky and insecure than they’ve ever been?”
“Because of something you said the first night you were here, when Mum asked why you proposed so soon. You said, I know it’s fast, but I couldn’t wait another moment. It made me realize I was being an ass.”
“And also caused you to go look up dirt on Claire,” I say dryly. “Which really was an asshole move, Geoffrey.”
“No, it wasn’t. It was smart. I was looking out for Mum and Dad. All I ever do is look after Mum and Dad, while you’re off fucking waitresses.”
“Don’t talk about Claire like that,” I tell him, up in his face in a second.
“I’m not talking about Claire. I’m talking about your last decade. But you know what? I’m glad you came this week, because it gave me the balls to propose to Fiona, finally. Am I terrified? Hell, yeah. Is it how I imagined? No. I may never have ten million dollars in a bank account, but I do have Fiona. And I don’t want to lose her because I’m obsessed with a plan.”
The space between us goes quiet.
“Sorry for not being around for so long,” I manage to get out, feeling choked up, which I know is completely bollocks. Bad boy aren’t supposed to fucking cry, but here I am on the brink of tears.
“I’m used to it. I do the heavy lifting; you show up and make Mum and Dad happy. We all have our roles.”
“They can change, you know.”
“Easy for you to say,” he says.
“Is it?” I shake my head. “Because, fuck, Geoffrey, all I’m trying to do is come us with an actual way to change and it feels bloody impossible. I need to fucking grow up or I’ll lose Claire.”
“So you think you have her now?” he asks. “Because I know this is all some scheme you’ve hatched, that you aren’t really engaged.”
“I do love her. It started as a stupid plan to get the company.” When Geoffrey starts to cut me off, I lift my hand to stop him. “I know, okay? I can’t run a fucking company. But it doesn’t matter when this became real. Claire needs a man who can fucking provide for her. What can I do?”
“I don’t know what you can do. I’m trying to figure out my next move myself. And, don’t worry, I won’t tell Mum and Dad. The last thing they need is their hearts broken over you, too.”
“I can’t believe Dad’s company is going under.”
“I know,” Geoffrey says. “It kills me. I thought I was saving the company, but instead my plan killed it. I feel like a fucking idiot. Of course Dad is never going to come right out and say that to me. But shit, Landon—you say you feel like a fuck up? Look at me. I’m the one who ran this business into the bloody ground. The luxury branches are doing the best—which has nothing to do with me—but it isn’t enough.”
“How long do you think you can keep the busi
ness afloat?”
“Six month, tops. Dad’s just given up, which blows, because I really think we could salvage it. But he refuses to look in a new direction.”
I smirk. “Yeah, well, have you told him how you feel? How you feel like you screwed up? Because right now all it sounds like is you two arguing, and it will cost you both the company.”
“I know I need to talk with him ... but he gets so insistent about integrity and morals, and it gets to be a bloody headache.”
I nod, knowing that Geoffrey has been dealing with Mum and Dad for years, and it isn’t fair. That isn’t how family works.
“I’m sorry for being an ass for so long,” I tell him.
“I know you are, dipshit.”
We don’t hug it out; instead, we cough stoically and look back up the driveway.
“We should go back to the house,” I say.
“Hey, speaking of houses. Maybe you can have Mum and Dad’s place above the King’s Diamond.”
“What do you mean?” I frown, not understanding.
“Mum and Dad’s place over their Vegas branch? You know about that right?”
“I have no fucking clue what you mean.”
“They bought it for you, but you never wanted to work for Dad. Apparently that was part of the reason they built it, as a surprise in case you ever went to work for Dad.”
“Well, that’s a bloody waste. It’s not going to do any good now, not if the company is getting consolidated.”
“Fuck,” Geoffrey snorts. “Shit. You’re right. Sorry.”
“I just wish there was a way to save it all,” I say.
“Me too.” Geoffrey kicks a pebble. When he looks up, he points behind me. “Look,” he says. “Your posse.”
All bundled up, Emmy and Ace, Fiona, Tess, and Claire walk toward us.
“Your parents kicked us out,” Ace says, jumping on my back like a child. “They said there was a pub a quarter of a mile away. Let’s go get wasted. We’ve had enough bullshit for one day.”
I push him off my back, laughing. My eyes meet Geoffrey’s, and he nods in agreement.
We’ve called a truce. Made silent amends.
And now we can go get properly sloshed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Claire
The pub smells like grease and beer, and I smile, sliding onto a worn wooden bench in this hundred-year-old bar. I’ve wanted to hang out in a place like this my whole life. I’m going to insist Landon take me to another iconic English locale tomorrow.
“I can’t believe we’re hanging out in a bar in England. This is so not real life,” Tess says, pulling down her V-neck top. “But there aren’t any hotties besides the guys you brought.”
“And they’re all taken,” Emmy says, sticking out her bottom lip before turning to me. “So why are you and Landon fighting?”
The guys have gone to the bar to get us drinks, and it’s just us ladies—but Fiona is here, and I don’t know how much I want her to know. Not that she’ll learn about the fake engagement, considering even my friends don’t know about that.
“He and I just don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things ... and I wonder how that will play out in a marriage.”
“Like what?” Tess asks. “I mean, I figured it was all roses and sunsets, considering it all happened so fast.”
“Well it is roses and sunsets,” I say, defensive. “It’s just … complicated. I don’t even know how to explain it.”
I can’t just say Landon loves me and I don’t know if I love him back ... because that would mean admitting this is a farce. And I can’t explain why I am scared of going all in with someone, and admit the other thing that is holding me back.
The thing I haven’t even mentioned to Landon.
Holy crap, I need a drink.
“Relationships are crazy complicated,” Emmy says, shaking her head just as the boys bring over pints of frothy beer.
“Whose relationship is crazy complicated?” Ace asks, after stealing a kiss from his wife.
“All relationships,” Emmy says. “I mean, gosh, it’s hard to sacrifice and share and play nice. Life is hard, that’s all.”
“I wouldn’t know. You know, because I don’t have a fiancé or a husband.” Tess pouts.
“Awww, poor Tess,” Ace teases. “Seriously, though, your man will come. Be patient. I mean, did anyone think Landon would be getting hitched in a week?”
“A week?” Tess shrieks. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Oops. Hadn’t mentioned that to my friends. I haven’t had a chance since before the family meeting.
Landon shrugs as I meet his eyes. “I told Ace at the bar. Sorry.”
“It’s not a secret; it’s epic,” Fiona says as she takes her beer from Geoffrey. “It’s going to be a double wedding, and you should have been Helen and Arthur’s faces when we decided earlier today. It was priceless.”
“Wow,” Emmy says, nodding slowly. “Looks like you have, like, a whole life we don’t know about. A secret relationship, a secret child. When were you going to tell us about the secret wedding? After the secret honeymoon?”
“Listen, it wasn’t, like, a secret. It was just decided this afternoon,” I explain, looking to Landon for help.
“Yeah, I just don’t get it,” Ace says slowly. “It seems like a lot. Why the rush?”
“You’re asking us about rushing things?” Landon asks. “You only knew Emmy for weeks. And now you’re trying to have a baby. I don’t think we’re the ones who need to slow down.”
“But it was different with us,” Emmy says, being oversensitive.
“No, it wasn’t,” I say. “You didn’t even know he was your boss the first time you slept together.”
“Okay, I think we should stop this discussion,” Tess says, raising her pint. “Let’s toast. To double weddings!” She pulls on a tight, fake smile.
“This is stupid. I don’t even know why we’re here,” Emmy says, setting down her beer without toasting.
“It’s not stupid. You’re here because our relationship matters. It’s how relationships work, remember? They’re complicated. You just said so yourself,” I tell her. “You could at least be happy for me. Don’t you think I deserve to be happy? To be in love? To be with Landon? Don’t you think I deserve to have someone who wants to be with me ... even though I’m not perfect? Not like you?”
The table goes silent, and I realized I just blurted out a lot of personal information. Information that makes me weak and exposed. And not the good, naked-with-Landon exposed. An I just admitted I’m a mess sort of exposed.
“No one is perfect, Claire, and everyone deserves to be happy, to have love,” Tess whispers.
I lower my gaze, completely mortified.
“I’m sorry for saying I don’t know why we’re here,” Emmy says quietly. “I know why we here ... it’s just really hard to be your friend when there’s so much I don’t know about you. Friends let one another in, friends tell one another when they have kids and are getting married in a week.”
Tess speaks again, “Claire, why don’t you want us to be in this with you?”
I can’t speak. I just shake my head, confused and sad and so completely seen. I don’t like it. When you let people in that’s when you get hurt–that’s why I’ve pushed Landon away. I can’t handle it. It’s too much, and now everyone is looking at me, asking for a pass to have access to my heart.
My eyes fill with tears, and I brush them away as fast as I can. Shaking my head, I manage to say one single sentence: “I don’t know how.”
I push out of the booth, and run to the bathroom, relieved to find it’s a single stall with a lock. I shut the door and press my back against it, trying to catch my breath.
There’s a knock on the door, and I close my eyes. I can’t handle more of Emmy and Tess, and their requests for me to be more than I am.
But it isn’t Tess and it isn’t Emmy.
It’s Landon’s voice, his perfect accent, his te
nder inflection. It’s Landon who came. It’s Landon who is here.
“Claire,” he says through the wooden door. “Let me in.”
I turn the lock, opening the door for him without hesitation, without any doubt. I open the door and let him in.
And that choice alone tells me everything.
Landon
The moment she locks the door behind me, she collapses in my arms.
“I love you, Landon. I do. I love you so hard. But I’m scared. And there is still so much we need to ta–”
“Shhhh, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay. There will be time to talk. Right now ... let’s finish the night the way we planned. Me. Holding you. Carrying you.”
“Why are you always so perfect, always saying the right thing to me?”
“Because I’m your person.”
“That’s, like, a line from Grey’s Anatomy or something. That isn’t real life,” she says, burrowing her face in my chest.
“This is real life though, Claire. Our life.”
And then she kisses me, hard. So hard my back is against the bathroom wall, her hands hold my face, and her lips press against mine, taking my breath away.
Fuck, I love this woman.
Pulling away, I ask her, “You love me?”
“I love you.”
In seconds I’ve hitched her skirt to her waist, grabbed her ass, spun her so it’s her back against the bathroom door. I hoist her to my waist.
“You’re so strong,” she says, her eyes no longer filled with tears. They’re full of desire. “And I want you in me. So bad.”
“God, I love it when you talk dirty.”
“Oh, this isn’t dirty. You want filthy, Landon? I’ll give it to you.”
“Give it to me then, baby,” I tease her as I drop my pants, letting my cock spring from my boxers.
“I want your cock in my pussy. And I want you to fuck me.”
“How hard?” I ask, as she pulls her shirt over her head. Her gorgeous tits are in a red bra, plunging low. I pull down one of the cups and lick her hard nipple, kissing her perfect skin.