“Yeah, I just demolished your image of me, didn’t I? We’ll go camping sometime, Fancy Pants. You’ll see.”
A hearty laugh rips out of me and he joins in. “I’ll take you up on that. Come on, let’s go. Oh, and don’t call me honey in front of anyone.”
“Why. Will they think we’re lovers?”
I grumble out an unrecognizable response as I escort him down to the floor where our design team is located. Eyeballs pop when it’s me who makes the introductions. Then I ask if someone would call me when they’re finished. “Never mind. Eric, text me. I’ll be in a meeting and won’t be taking calls.”
“No problem.”
I leave the room and the air is thick with questions everyone is dying to ask him. I would love to be a fly on the wall, but I have to be downstairs for the big meeting, which I’m not looking forward to.
When I notice the time, I see I’m five minutes away from kickoff. My gut twists in knots and I’m not sure if I want to hear what this woman has to say.
My grandparents are waiting for me and the three of us look more than a bit apprehensive.
Granddad’s phone finally rings, alerting us to her arrival. When she walks in, she looks familiar. Her face tugs at my memory, but when she smiles, it hits me. She’s one of my mother’s friends who used to visit her.
“Hello, Prescott, Mrs. Whitworth, Mr. Whitworth,” she says, greeting us warmly.
“Laura, thank you for coming,” Grand says.
We sit and Laura launches into the most disturbing story I’ve ever heard. She explains how she and my mom, Simone, were great friends. She adored my mom and they’d been close since they were children. After I was born, Mom suspected Dad wasn’t my father, but wasn’t certain until I grew older. Then she had me tested. My dad didn’t want to do it, but agreed—as long as it would be kept a secret. He didn’t care to lose his place in the family business, I suppose. Mom begged Laura never to speak the truth to anyone. After Mom died, Laura received a letter from her. I guess she mailed it the morning of her death. In the letter she told Laura never to tell anyone her secret. But then Mom went on to say if she did, to wait until I was an adult and could handle it. Laura kept the secret until now. She says it just felt like Mom wanted me to know. She stares at me when she says this.
It doesn’t feel like I’m exactly handling it very well. At one point in her story, Laura started crying, and admittedly, so did I. Even Grand dabbed at her eyes, and Granddad cleared his throat.
Essentially, we are all a mess.
Dammit, Mom. Why’d you have to do this?
“Why didn’t you come to us sooner?” I ask, my tone accusatory.
“I know you must think I’m awful. I didn’t know what to do, actually. At first I thought, what they didn’t know can’t hurt them and all that, but then it kept eating away at me.” She rubs her throat for a minute.
“So my father knows. Or rather, Jeff knows.”
“Yes.”
“So who is my biological father?”
A look of sympathy passes over Laura’s face. “Simone never shared his name with me. All I know is she met him up at Lake George. You had a home up there at one point, didn’t you?”
Grand nods.
“She went up there alone, sometime after she and Jeff were married. I do know that. I also know he passed, because she told me as much. It was around the time when you were five or six.”
So my biological father is deceased. There’s an element to me that’s not exactly sad, but regretful over the fact I never knew him.
“Your mother was never happily married, Prescott. I may be overstepping my bounds here, but I think you should know she wasn’t the type to go off with different men. The fact that she did it with one at all was shocking to even her. And she had a great deal of remorse over it. It stayed with her for … well, I think you know.”
“Why the hell didn’t she just get divorced?”
“Jeff threatened her.”
All three of us, Grand, Granddad, and me, all simultaneously say, “He what?”
Laura’s head drops and she stares at the floor. Then she speaks. “He wasn’t very kind to her. Maybe you all saw a different side to him, but she said he stayed with her for the money and position. Without her, he was nothing.”
A spark ignites in my gut and turns into a raging fire. My grandfather and I glance at each other. If what she says is true, I will toss that ass out on the street and not have an ounce of regret.
“I want more information on this, Laura.”
She perks up. I imagine it’s because my entire demeanor has changed. I’ve gone from sad and pathetic, poor Prescott, to a man out for revenge.
“He was verbally abusive.”
“You’re sure about this?” I ask.
She sneers. “Oh, I’m sure. I witnessed his outbursts many times. He was quite offensive, even when I was around. I can only imagine what he was like when they were alone. I used to beg her to leave, but she wouldn’t. I guess he had some kind of a hold on her.”
“Can you be more specific?” I ask, glancing again at my grandparents.
“I can try. Once I was over there, you were away, and I can’t remember where. But the two of us were outside, talking and laughing, when he stormed out and yelled at us both. Told us we were nothing but worthless whores and that I needed to go home. I was married, still am, and was insulted. When I went to give it back to him, Simone grabbed my arm and shook her head in a silent warning. I shut my mouth, got up, and left. She was afraid of him; I have no doubt. There was fear in her eyes. But this happened a lot when I was there.”
My jaws clench. He never laid a hand on me, but then again, I probably would’ve run to Grand or Granddad and his ass would’ve been toast. “Do you have any evidence that he hit her?”
She shakes her head. “No, and if he did, she hid it from me. Again, that wasn’t the only time he did that. He would say awful things about her, too. Tell her she was good for nothing, lazy, and worthless. I don’t think he liked for her to have friends around much.”
Grand adds, “Maybe he felt threatened.”
“I think she was deeply depressed, but hid it from everyone. She always put on a happy face.”
And that’s exactly how I remember my mother … always smiling and telling me how much she loved me. She never spared her hugs and love, that’s for sure.
Grand asks her some more questions and I can’t imagine how this must make her feel—the man their daughter married and the same man they’ve financially backed for all these years, is now uncovered as being not only an asshole, but a verbally abusive one. And he may be the one who contributed to her suicide.
Suicide. The word makes me nauseous.
As I sit here, my phone pings. It’s a text from Eric.
I give everyone an apologetic look. “Would you excuse me? I have someone in my office I need to see.”
My knees even shake as I walk. Get a hold of yourself, Prescott.
Eric is standing at the windows, looking out at the skyline. It’s dark now and all the buildings are lit up, making the scene look like a postcard.
“How did it go?”
“Dude, this view. Better at night than during the day.”
“Yeah, I know. So, the interview?”
He gives me two thumbs up. “I rocked it. But hey, you didn’t tell them they had to hire me or anything, did you?”
“Nope. I told them you were a friend, but if you weren’t a fit, that was their business.”
“Okay, cool. I want this job really bad, but I also want it on my talent and merits, you know?”
“I do. So it went well, though?”
His grin pretty much is my answer. “Yeah, really well. They’re supposed to call tomorrow.” Eric is pumped as hell. It makes me feel good that I can help him.
“Great.”
“Did someone shit on your parade today?”
A bitter laugh escapes from me before I can stop it. “You don’t know the
half of it.”
“Damn, I’m sorry, man. Anything I can do to help?”
I slide my thumb across my lower lip. “It’s a family matter, really. There’s nothing you can do, but thanks for the offer.”
“Hey, I also wanted to let you know Vivi called me earlier. She left a message and texted. Is everything okay over there?”
I wish I knew. “I’ll find out when I get home. So, I have some family stuff going on that I have to get back to.”
“Oh, not a problem. I don’t know how to thank you, even if I don’t get the job. And, Prescott, please don’t tell Vivi I helped you. I don’t want her to know. But just so you know, I hope you two work it out.”
“Thanks, man.” I slap him on the back and lead him toward the elevators. When we get in sight of them, I head back to the family gathering.
Right before I walk in, I hear Grand say, “So you think it was mostly her volatile relationship with Jeff that led to her suicide?”
“That and the idea she was never able to cultivate the relationship with Prescott’s true father. I think it weighed heavily on her. In all the years I knew Simone, she was never happy with Jeff. The one thing I know for sure was she loved you with her whole heart, Prescott.”
And doesn’t that make me want to go and kill that motherfucker?
Laura leaves and promises to call if she remembers anything else, although I’m not sure what good it will do.
When it’s just the three of us again, Granddad says, “Son, I know you want to go and take your revenge out on him for what he did, but keep a level head. We only know what Laura said, and time can distort the truth.”
“Do you really believe that, Granddad?”
“I don’t know what to believe right now.”
“I do. Mom committed suicide. You all thought she was fine and she wasn’t, so she must’ve been hiding something.”
Grand is shaken. Her skin is ghostly pale and I reach to hug her. “I’m sorry, Grand. I don’t know what to say.”
“Nor do I, Scotty. I’m so sad she felt she couldn’t reach out to us. All these years we’ve wondered.”
We decide to go for drinks and dinner. Before we leave the offices, I see a text from Vivi and let her know not to wait for me. I can’t focus on that at the moment. Grand is hanging on to the both of us like lifelines.
During dinner, they both get me to promise I won’t do anything stupid. But it’s Grand’s voice that gets me to agree.
“I’ve lost one child. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”
“Don’t worry. When I go to evict him, I’ll be well represented. I’m not going to do it alone, but now I don’t feel bad about it either.”
They both are in agreement.
It’s after nine by the time we leave the restaurant. My head throbs, and my heart aches. I don’t really want to go home and face Vivi. She’ll want an explanation, for which I’ll have none. I won’t open this part of my life up to her. Maybe one day, but not tonight.
One of my corporate apartments is close, so I go there instead. It’s actually one I showed Vivi. There’s a locked closet where I keep some suits and things, toiletries, and other items on hand if I decide to stay there for the night. It’s empty and lonely after being with Vivi for the last couple of days, but I need space to think about what happened earlier.
Maybe after my head clears a bit, I’ll be able to look at this more calmly. The fact is I’ve heard of these situations but never thought it would happen to me. Then again, who does? I’m not close to my dad nor have I ever been. What I’m feeling is more of a betrayal than anything. And anger that Mom couldn’t tell anyone, or find a way to get help.
Pouring a glass of bourbon I keep on hand here, I gaze out at the view as I sip it. Memories of Mom begin to crash into me, and then they’re replaced by Vivi’s face. I’m either losing my mind or this is a clear indication I need to get my shit straight and decide what to do with the gorgeous piece of ass who’s waiting for me at home.
Wait, that’s so fucking wrong. Vivi is not a piece of ass. She never was and never will be. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
This whole thing has spiraled out of control and now I’m at a loss on how to deal with it. I knew what kind of life to live before I walked into that coffee shop and saw her sitting there. I would’ve kept living it, unencumbered. But fate had different plans for me, it seems. And now it makes me wonder what the hell it has in store for me next.
Chapter 26
Vivi
The light creeping into the room is a surprise. When I went to bed last night, I never thought I’d be able to sleep. Here it is, morning, and when I check the clock, I realize it’s time to get up. Regina will be here very shortly. It’s shocking that I never heard Prescott come in last night. Or even this morning to change. Weird.
After I brush my teeth and wash my face, I drag my sluggish feet into the kitchen and notice the food from last night is still out. Why didn’t he put it away? But the place is eerie, so quiet. And he should be up and showered by now. I walk up the steps slowly, calling his name as I go, but he doesn’t answer. I’m not sure which of the rooms he’s using, so I check the first and it’s unused. I go on to the next and it’s the same. The last bedroom is the one, but it’s empty. The bed is made and when I check the bathroom, it’s obvious the shower hasn’t been used. He didn’t come home last night.
But why? Did something happen, maybe to one of his grandparents? If that were the case, he would’ve reached out and called. I’m suddenly pissed. Really, really pissed. That’s the only reasonable explanation for him not getting in touch. Like he’s going to call to tell you he’s spending the night with another woman? Get the fuck real.
Marching back down the steps, I go straight to the shower and bathe. This is it. I’ve had enough of this mercurial living situation. I don’t know what’s up or down anymore and I have enough shit to deal with—like how the heck I’m going to pay my medical bills, or bills in general for that matter. I can’t work for how long with this stupid broken arm? I wish I could get my hands on Joe Delvecchio’s balls right now. I’d smash the hell out of them until they resembled pancakes.
When I’m done showering, I dress and hear Regina in the other room. I go to greet her.
“Good morning, Vivi.” Her cheery voice greets me.
“Regina, I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’ll just say it straight up. I’m moving back to my apartment as soon as my hair is dry.”
“But Mr. Beckham wants me for two weeks.”
“I’m so sorry. You’ll have to speak to him about that.”
“Does he know about this?” she asks skeptically.
“He didn’t come home last night, so I couldn’t tell him,” I say sourly.
“Oh, dear.”
“It’s best if I’m in my own place. I think you understand.”
“Sure I do, sweetheart.” Then she asks, “Do you need help with your hair?”
“Of course I do, but I won’t let you. I’m doing this on my own. Just like I showered and taped my arm up on my own. It’s not too bad. Not as good as you doing it, but I did fine. Oh and dinner was delicious. I left it out for Prescott but since he never came home, I’m afraid it’s ruined. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. You fix your hair and I’ll make you breakfast.”
“That’s a deal.”
I fume the entire time I’m tearing the brush through my tangles, sure I’m ripping half my hair out. Right now, that’s not important to me. Vacating this apartment is. I gather my things and stuff them into my bag. When I’m ready, I join Regina in the kitchen.
“I’m worried you won’t be able to cook for yourself.”
I wave my hand. “No worries there. I have a roommate and he likes to cook.”
“Your roommate is a man?”
“Yeah, but he’s gay.”
“Will he take care of you then?” Her expression is hopeful.
I nod my reply. Who th
e hell knows? I’ve always taken care of myself, and will now. I eat as much as I can, not wanting to hurt Regina’s feelings, but my stomach is hive full of buzzing bees. I’m so disappointed in Prescott I can’t think straight. The minute I cracked the door open to let him in, he pulls a manwhore move.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“If you are.”
I order an Uber, which I can’t really afford, and we go downstairs. It’s already waiting when we get there. I live close, so it’s only a short ride. Once we get inside, Regina leaves my bag in the living room.
“Please come in.”
“Vivi, what are you doing here?” Eric asks, walking out from his bedroom.
“I’m home.”
“I can see that, but I thought we decided you were going to stay another day or two. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”
“Well, here I am.”
After I introduce Regina to Eric, I explain that Prescott shut down and then didn’t come home. I tell him how I can’t handle feeling like he doesn’t want me there and his manwhoring just confirmed that.
Eric looks like he wants to say something, but I cut him off.
“So what’s up with you?” I ask.
“I had an interview yesterday and then I sort of partied after.”
“Oh? Where did you interview?”
Now his face flushes a bright shade of crimson.
“Oh, God, I should’ve told you, but I had an interview at Whitworth. Prescott got me in the door.”
I disguise my super hurt feelings and plaster on a smile. “Eric, that’s wonderful. This could be your big break you’ve been waiting for.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Of course not. You have to seize the opportunity when it hits.”
He almost knocks me down to hug me.
“Whoa, boy, hold it back a bit.”
“Sorry. I was freaked that you’d hate my guts.”
“Okay, pump the brakes on that thought. My feelings might be a little hurt that you didn’t tell me, but hate you? Isn’t that a bit extreme?”
Chasing Vivi Page 21