I catch a glimpse of Regina over his shoulder and it registers she must feel like the third wheel in the conversation. “Hey, let’s talk about this later.”
Then I go to Regina and say, “I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve been more than kind.”
Her warm smile lets me know she feels the same. “I wish you all the best and if you ever need a helping hand, please call me.” She presses a sticky note into my palm and then leaves.
“She seemed nice.”
“She is. But I couldn’t stay there another minute.”
Eric puts his arms around me. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through. It’s going to get better, Viv. I have a good feeling about things.”
“I wish I did.”
I lug my bag into my room with Eric protesting. “I have to do these things for myself. Besides, I feel much better.” Physically, anyway.
“Want some coffee? There’s still some left.”
I accept his offer to make me a cup. We sit and talk over things that have happened. His excitement over his interview is contagious. He gives me hope at finding a position.
“Why don’t you do consulting in the interim?”
“I might have to. But I’m going to talk to Lucas about coming back to work.”
“You can’t be serious. You only have one arm.”
“I have two, but only one works.” I hold them up for emphasis. “I can still mix drinks one-handed. Besides, I go to the doctor next week and find out what my restrictions will be.”
Eric’s brows slant in question.
“Really. I think I can do it.”
“We’ll see. The other hurdle is making Lucas believe you.”
Shrugging, I add, “I’ll just have to prove it to him.”
The following Tuesday, I go for my check-up. My physician is pleased with my progress and says the X-rays look good. He’s not exactly keen on the bartending idea, but agrees to let me do it as long as I promise not to lift anything heavier than a glass. But the best news is he’s going to switch my cast to a splint next week. That means showering will be easier and I’ll be able to scratch my arm without using a coat hanger.
The little things in life.
Prescott never called nor did I really expect him to. I’m sure he came home to an empty house and assumed things were over. If so, he’d be right. I won’t allow my heart to be involved with someone who thinks he can treat me like his own personal doormat. I’m still pissed, though, not gonna lie. But I’m more pissed at myself than anything. I let him in. Okay, not all the way. We didn’t have sex or anything. Yet, I would’ve ripped my pants off that one night if I hadn’t been so banged up. And this is all that damn Joe Delvecchio’s fault. Everything goes back to that little greasy-headed fucker.
I even have to go to court for that sleazy bastard’s trial. I only hope I can sit there without trying to scratch his eyeballs out. The attorneys that Prescott hired called, but I told them not to bother. The idea of being tied to him in any way leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ll let the prosecutors do their jobs and hopefully, he’ll go to prison, as he deserves. Lots of pictures were taken of me when I was in the hospital, swollen and bruised, and that has to help the case. I’m still purple in some areas and turning green in others—an attractive sight for sure.
I delay my visit to The Meeting Place until after my cast has been changed to a splint. Lucas warmly embraces me. He’s called a few times, but it was early on. Now over two weeks have passed and my face isn’t swollen anymore. He tells me how good I look.
“Oh, come on, Lucas. I look like a moldy grape.”
He laughs. “Now that’s a unique description.”
“Well, I’m purple turning green. You can’t argue with that.”
“You look awesome. I don’t care what you say.”
“And you’re full of it. But, I’ll take the compliment.”
It’s late afternoon, so the place isn’t crowded yet.
“How’s business?” I ask.
“Great. But I miss you back here with me.”
I scrunch up my face. “That’s why I’m here. I want to return to work.”
“Viv—”
“Before you say anything, hear me out. My doctor cleared it. He said it’s okay as long as I don’t do any heavy lifting with my arm. Mixing cocktails is fine. I can do most of it one-handed. Lucas, you have to let me come back. I’m going out of my mind. Please.” I fold my hands in a prayer pose, but it’s awkward since the one is in a splint and kind of angled funny.
“Oh, man, Vivi. What if that crazy ass possessive boyfriend of yours comes in here? If he sees you working, he’ll kick my ass from here to California.”
The blank look on my face must clue Lucas into the fact that I don’t know what he’s talking about.
“Prescott Beckham. Your filthy rich boyfriend who will destroy me if I do this.”
I take a giant step backward and hold up both arms like I’m under arrest. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Then my index finger shoots up. “One, he is not my boyfriend and I don’t care what anyone has told you.” My second finger joins the first. “Two, he doesn’t have even the tiniest say in what I do.” The third finger pops up. “And three, I really don’t care what Prescott Beckham does. He can jump off the Empire State Building as far as I’m concerned.”
“Wow, you two must’ve had one helluva fight.”
I give a noncommittal shrug, not wanting to give him details. This is too personal and Lucas is a work friend.
“All I can say is the night you were injured—”
“Can we not rehash that? It’s a little raw for me.”
“Yeah, sorry. So, you really think you can handle it?”
I perk up. “I’d like to start on a slow day or night. Definitely not a weekend.”
“Okay, Vivi, we can do that. I’ve missed you, like I said. You’re a great worker.”
“Eeeep!” I hop a little and then hug him. “Thank you. I promise it’ll be fine.”
That’s my mantra and I’m sticking with it.
When I get home to tell Eric, he looks like someone threw him in the spin cycle. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Whitworth Enterprises, that’s what. Those people are crazy over there. I had no idea accepting that position would require me to be doing all this stuff before I actually started it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh my God, Vivi.” He fans himself dramatically. “I have to take a drug test, then they do a background check on me. I guess they want to make sure I’m not doing heroin on the side or I’m a Russian spy or something. Then I have to get them copies of my certifications so they can get me ID cards for all the markets we’ll be going to.”
“Seems to me that’s sort of the usual for any large corporation.”
“I know, but I have to maintain my other job and it’s hard to find the time to get it all done.”
Poor Eric. But I can’t really feel sorry for him because he’s getting ready to step into the job of a lifetime.
“Quit the restaurant, Eric. You’re too nice. Just tell them what’s going on and you can’t do it all.”
“I can’t. They’ve been too good to me.”
He’s loyal, I’ll give him that.
“Then, power through it and look on the bright side. Think of how exciting your new job will be.”
He nods slowly and I laugh at his lack of energy.
“It’s not funny.”
“If you could see your face, you’d laugh too.”
“When I went for the interview, Prescott died when I called him honey.”
That actually makes me laugh. “Did you do it in front of anyone?”
“No. I’m not that stupid.”
“Too bad. I would’ve loved that.”
“Yeah, you would’ve.” He smiles. “But that would’ve spelled disaster for me. He was a little crazy looking as it was, given his day.”
Holding up my h
and, I say, “Stop. I don’t want any more information on him. But, hey, why don’t I cook us dinner tonight?”
He sighs. “That would be so nice.”
I look in the fridge and decide a quick trip to the corner market is in store. I run out and pick up a few items, and while I’m headed in, I notice a dark sedan parked nearby. I don’t bother looking in to see who owns it, because I know.
The stalker has returned, but too damn bad. I pick up my pace and as I reach the door, I hear him call out my name, but too fucking bad. Maybe he should’ve thought about that before he stayed out all night with some skanky ho. I raise my hand in the middle-fingered salute and keep moving.
When I open the door to our apartment, that hand is shaking. Dropping the bags on the counter, I lean back and take long deep breaths. It pisses me off that he still has this effect on me. Traitor body.
He never bothered to call or text, but yet he shows up like I’m supposed to what exactly? “Oh, hi, buddy. It’s great to see you.” Excuse me, but hell to the fucking no on that.
Eric walks into the tiny kitchen. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine.”
“Vivi. I’m not stupid.”
“He was outside.”
Eric chuckles. “I wondered how long it would take. A man who stared at you like he did wouldn’t stay away forever.”
“Too bad for him.”
“Why don’t you give him a chance?”
Turning to face him, I plant my hand on my hip. “Whose side are you on anyway?”
“No side. I’m just—”
“I vividly recall you telling me to give him a chance before. I did and look where it landed me. Eric, I adore you, but stay out of this. Prescott has earned his one and only chance with me. He fucked it up good.”
I go back to fixing dinner.
“I won’t say another word except have you ever thought that maybe something happened?”
“Yeah? Well, that’s what phones are for.”
He grumbles something and walks away. The truth is I’m weak where Prescott is concerned and I don’t need to be around someone like him. Maybe he does have his own issues, but I don’t need to add them to mine. I need someone who’ll build me up and not crack me into tiny pieces and then watch them scatter into the wind. And he’s proven, again, what type of man he is.
Chapter 27
Prescott
It’s been over two weeks since I’ve seen Vivi. The apartment was empty when I got home and all that remained was a note from Regina along with Vivi’s scent.
Inhaling, I let the fragrance coat my senses. Her image was vivid and sharp, almost as though she stood in front of me in reproach. I could hear her asking why I hadn’t called and where I’d been. I could see doubt cloud her gorgeous eyes and her uncertainty over my flimsy explanation of where I’d spent the night. My gut burned with the acid of how I’d raised her suspicion in me. Why hadn’t I texted or called her? What the hell had I been thinking?
How can I fix this? I’m the problem. Not her. I’ve probably destroyed what I’d built and her distrust in me will never allow her to believe what I tell her. Everything is ruined and I only have myself to blame. All because I was stupid and fearful of revealing the truth of my past.
Except, I don’t even know my past anymore. I’m currently a man without a name. I’m not even Prescott Beckham. I don’t know who the fuck I am. The irony of it all smacks me in the face.
Regina said if I needed anything to contact her. I arranged for her to be paid the entire sum for the two weeks. It wasn’t her fault this happened. The blame falls on my shoulders.
My trip to Atlanta was pretty fucking miserable. Weston and Special tried to talk it out of me, but I didn’t even tell them about my father. I didn’t have it in me to bring the whole mess up. We took care of business and when I was leaving, Weston told me the door is always open. I knew that already, but it was good to hear the words.
Lynn is on my ass once more because every morning I smell like a bottle of bourbon again. She doesn’t even tell me but hands me a toothbrush, toothpaste, and then says I need to chew some gum.
“Get some help, Prescott. I don’t know what happened, but I know it has to do with Vivi. I hope you didn’t hurt her.”
“Lynn, I wish it were that simple.”
“It’s not that father of yours, because he’s not here anymore.”
I nod in silence.
“So?”
“I don’t want to discuss it.”
“Okay, boss, but I don’t want to work for you if you’re going to be like this.”
She backs out of the office without another word. Who can blame her? No one wants an alcoholic for a boss.
We’re in meetings all morning and afterward, Granddad stops by. He makes a suggestion that floors me.
“I think you should relocate, son. As much as this pains me to say, I think it’s time for you to get out of here. You’re a wreck and it’s not doing our business any favors. Leaving here and running our ops in Denver might be the answer.”
“Denver, huh?” I almost stagger to my chair and this time it’s not because I’m hungover.
“Yes. It’s a good fit, Prescott. They need your brilliant mind to pull in some deals over there. That group is performing, but not like I think it should. You could change that.”
Moving to Denver. I love the city. It would be close to our resort in the high country where I could get a lot of skiing and snowboarding in during the winter months.
“Granddad, it sounds appealing, but I need to iron out some issues before I go.”
“Prescott, I was thinking the first of the year. And I’ll be truthful with you. I’m worried you’re headed down a slippery slope. Your grandmother and I don’t want to see you end up depressed like your mother or in need of rehab either.”
I plunge my hands through my hair. Lynn better not have put this bug in his ear. “Has Lynn talked to you?”
“About what?”
Granddad is an open book with me. If she had, he’d say so.
“Never mind. I’m sorry you’re so worried. I promise to do better. All that stuff about not knowing who my father is has gotten to me.”
“I wish I had answers for you, I really do.”
“I know. But thanks, as always, for your support.”
That night when I go home, I make a decision to try to contact Vivi. Since I haven’t called, there’s no use starting there. Maybe if I try to see her, she’ll listen to what I have to say. As I’m getting out of the car, there she is, walking home with a couple of bags from the local market.
When I call her name, she shoots me the middle finger and sprints inside. That tells me how much work I have in store just to get her to talk to me.
I wait a couple of hours and call. Of course she doesn’t answer. Then I text about thirty minutes later. No response. Vivi is really going to make me work for it. Can I blame her? Hell no.
That night when I fall into bed, the sheets still smell like her. I refuse to let the housekeeper change them, who probably thinks I’ve gone mad, which I’m close to being. I count the number of texts I sent to Vivi and there are fourteen. She’s most likely enjoying this. I can see the smart look on her face when she notices it’s my number. Maybe I should call her from the office tomorrow. She doesn’t know that number and maybe I’ll luck out and she’ll answer.
Then a thought hits me. I wonder if she’s spending Christmas with anyone. It’s creeping up on us. Eric is probably taking her home with him. Good for her and him. The holidays snuck up on me with everything going on and I haven’t gone to any of the parties I usually attend. Our company Christmas party is this Saturday and I was sort of hoping I could talk her into going with me. Doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. Maybe I need to start from the beginning and send her cute things again.
In the morning, the first thing I do is call her from my office phone.
“Hello?” she answers
curiously.
“Please don’t hang up. I need to know if you’re okay and I’d like to explain things.” The words rush out of me.
“You should’ve thought of that before you spent the night with some skanky woman. Don’t call me again.” The line goes dead.
She thinks I was with another woman? Of course she does. How could I have been so fucking stupid? Wouldn’t I have jumped to the same conclusion if I were her? I said I needed space, left her alone, ran out of the apartment, and then instead of coming home to talk, I just never showed up at all—and I didn’t text or call her either. Not only do I need to find a way to explain to her about me and what’s really going on, I need major damage control. Fuck me upside down.
I run out to Lynn’s desk. “Come in here, quick. I need you.”
She runs in behind me. “What is it?”
“I need help impressing a certain woman. Like really impress but not make her think I’m trying to buy her or anything.”
“Prescott, what did you do now?”
“No time to explain. Just come up with some things. You know, cute things women love to get. I got her this giant stuffed wolf that she loved. Just to get you started.”
She stares at me like I’m the devil. I am. “Can you ice skate?”
“Yeah, but she has that cast on her arm, so nothing like that.”
Lynn huffs. “How much money?”
“No object.”
She leaves and comes back in thirty minutes with a list. She slaps it on my desk. “So help me God, if you’ve done anything to Vivi, I’ll personally kick your ass. This is why you’ve been pining and you’re back into that bourbon.” Then she sails out like the biggest cruise ship known to man.
When I look at the list, I know why Lynn works for me. The first thing I do is call Eric.
“I need your help.”
“With what?”
First I tell him I wasn’t with any woman. Then I tell him about my plans. The first one will be implemented on Thursday—with Eric’s help.
Eric is supposed to call Vivi and ask her to meet him somewhere. He’s going to tell her he has a surprise for her.
Chasing Vivi Page 22