S.O.B.
Page 12
“Talk to me, princess. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking this has all been a huge mistake,” I tell him honestly. Covering his hands with mine, I pull them off and take a step back. “I never should have come here. This was all a mistake.”
Shaking his head, Levi closes the distance. “No, you’re wrong. You told me once that everything happens for a reason,” he reminds me, taking me back to when we were just a couple of kids who stayed up late talking about our futures. “Well, this is where you’re supposed to be, right here, right now, with me.”
“You’re right,” I croak, my throat clogged with emotion. “I was supposed to be here because now I know that the last four years I spent trying to forget you weren’t a total waste. Thanks to you, I’m stronger now, and when I walk away this time, I’ll know that it wasn’t me.”
I head for the stairs. I haven’t completed my job, but I’m sure David will understand why I have to leave. I never should have agreed to come here in the first place. Levi is my past. I never should have tried to make him part of my present. Some things just weren’t meant to be revisited.
“What do you mean, it wasn’t you?” Levi calls after me.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, I take a deep breath. “It wasn’t me who wasn’t good enough.” It’s a low blow, especially after the hits his father delivered, but it shuts him up.
Once upon a time, I blamed myself for being left behind. I cut myself down and decided that I simply wasn’t good enough for someone as high standing as Levi Black. But I was wrong. I am good enough. It’s him that doesn’t deserve me.
18
Four months later...
Despite being in the air for less than an hour, the plane ride back to Cincinnati was brutal, and the subsequent days that have passed since then haven’t been any kinder. I’ve had a lot of downtime to sit and think, but it’s given me time to reflect on my weeks spent in Chicago. I feel guilty. The last words I said to Levi were a deliberate blow designed to hurt him instead of what it should have been—a heartfelt goodbye.
My time in Chicago was never meant to last. That’s what I keep telling myself whenever I get nostalgic and revisit my memories there. I never expected to get attached to Levi again, but he has a way about him that is magnetic and undeniable. Even when I wanted to hate him, he somehow made me like him.
But it’s over now and there’s no going back. Now that I’m back at home, I’m content in knowing that I won’t ever have to return to Chicago again. Especially after the text my mother sent me.
It’s Monday morning and I’m lying in bed staring at my phone. I’ve read the text at least ten times, and I still can’t believe it. She’s leaving David. She already filed for divorce and the papers will be served any time.
Mom: Don’t worry about anything. I made sure you’ll be taken care of.
I don’t understand what she means exactly, but I assume she means financially. I know she’s just looking out for me, but I don’t want anything more from David Black.
I text back. Thanks but no thanks. I don’t need anything. Just take care of you.
Her response is immediate, as if she’s sitting there with her phone just like me. Just picturing the two of us connected over that distance makes me want to cry.
Mom:You’re my daughter. It’s my job to look out for you no matter how grown up you are.
My eyes begin to prickle as I read the message. I hate being so far away from her. It’s only a few hours’ drive away, but the divide feels massive today.
It’s been a hell of a couple months, to say the least. The moment I stepped off the plane and turned my phone off airplane mode, messages poured in. Most of them were from Levi, which I refused to read, and a good portion were from my mom asking me where I was, but the one that stood out most was from David Black.
My stepfather proved to me that day what a bastard he truly is. He wasted no time at all ensuring that I never returned to Chicago or Levi. According to him, if I entered the city again, it would effectively void our agreement and all the help he promised would cease immediately. I don’t know how he knew I’d left, but he did. What he didn’t know is that I have no plans to go anywhere near him, his son, or that city in the foreseeable future. And now that my mother is filing for divorce, I won’t have to.
David Black’s threat to tear me and my future apart nagged at me since the moment I stepped onto the tarmac. To get where I needed to be, I had to accept his help, but that didn’t last long.
The thing I’ve learned about David is that he has a serious God complex. He’s used to barking orders and getting his way. For some reason, he thought that without his support, I wouldn’t be able to pursue my dreams. But that’s the thing about dreams. If you want them bad enough, you’ll find a way to make them a reality. And I have.
The moment I saw a chance to get out from under his thumb, I jumped on it.
I used to wonder if it was a mistake not to take the Black name when my mother married David, but now I’m beginning to think it’s an asset. The Black name comes with strings, stigmas that can’t be easily outrun, but no one looks twice at the girl named Marquis. While the media runs wild with stories about the billionaire playboy who’s off winning games and stealing hearts, I’m here building the life I’ve dreamed of.
Putting out feelers in the medical community, I lucked out in finding someone willing to invest in my dreams. He’s some hot shot stationed in New York with too much money who wishes to remain a silent partner. At first, it felt kind of shady, but after meeting with his financial advisor and lawyer and combing through all the legalese, I decided to take a risk and go for it.
With this arrangement, I have all the seed money I’ll need to get the business up and running and hire all the help I’ll need to keep it moving in the right direction. The best thing about it is that I don’t have to rely on David. He can’t hold anything over my head because this is all me. The only stipulation with this investor was, as co-owner and shareholder, he gets a portion of the profits for a maximum of one year starting from the time the books register in the black. It seems a small price to pay.
Tomorrow is the grand opening of the Marquis Rehabilitation Center, and while I only have two patients added to the schedule so far, I have faith that the books will be packed with names before long.
It’s just as well that we’re not busy. Even with all my staff in place, there’s a ton still left to do. I’ve spent nearly every waking hour and then some unpacking and setting up equipment, but there’s only so much one person can do.
Chronic back pain and sleepless nights have led to a profound lethargy that I just can’t seem to kick. Which is to be expected when you’re in your second trimester.
I never told Levi about the baby, and I have no plans to. He hasn’t reached out to me in four months and I have no inclination to do so either. What we had was strictly for fun. Like he said, I needed to let go and live a little. Well, I did. Maybe a little too much. But I can’t say that I regret it. Not now that I have my little muffin on the way.
It’s going to be a tough journey. I never planned to be a single mother, but that’s what you do when you sleep with a man who’s physically and emotionally unavailable. The only person who knows about the pregnancy is my mother and she’s not spilling any secrets. It just sucks that she can’t be here with me right now. I’d love to have someone to talk to about all of this. Someone to share it with, but part of the reason I’ve been able to stay so far under the radar this long is because we agreed that she should keep her distance, at least until the divorce is final.
David is a ruthless son of a bitch. He’s trying to find any way he can to void the prenup and send her away with nothing. But my mom’s smart. All that time I thought she was sitting back, taking his prolonged absences in stride, when in reality, she was building a case. The private detective she hired dug up a lot of interesting information that I’m sure David Black would pay a pretty penny to keep burie
d.
As long as my mother gets a fair shake and the media doesn’t come knocking on my door, then I’m happy to wash my hands of it all. That’s not my life anymore. It never was.
I’m kneeling on a blue mat spread out on the floor of the main training room where most of the rehab equipment is housed, doing cat stretches to alleviate some of the cramping in my lower back, when a knock on the door breaks my concentration.
“What is it?” I ask as I continue arching my back. I can’t imagine going through another four months of this, and it’s only going to get harder when I start seeing patients and have to be on my feet all day. I’ll need to find another person to fill in for me before too long. It’s just another worry to add to the list of worries that I’ll deal with tomorrow.
“Miss Marquis,” Janey from reception greets me. “It’s almost nine. Do you want me to start shutting down for the night?”
Sighing, I drop back on my knees and rest my hands on the tops of my thighs. Janey stands just inside the doorway, looking as fresh and alive as she did when she arrived this morning. Not a hair out of place. I don’t think I ever looked like that a day in my life. I could easily be jealous of her, but she’s too sweet a person not to like.
“Go ahead and shut down everything but this room. I’m going to stick around a while longer and make sure everything is set for tomorrow morning.”
The skin between her pale blonde eyebrows creases into a frown but, I never knew it was possible, the look is somehow cute on her. “You’re going to be here alone?”
I wave her off. “I’ve done it a hundred times. I’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “I can stick around a little longer. What do you need help with?”
“That’s not necessary, Janey. Really, I’ll be okay.” I shoo her back toward the door. “You go on home and get some rest. I’m going to need everyone in their best form tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely positively. Now get out of here before I have to break out my mom voice. I’ve been practicing,” I warn her with a teasing grin.
She’s smiling as she waves and turns out of the room. Once she’s gone, I get back into position and resume stretching. It’s good to stay healthy and fit, especially now. All the books say it will help with labor and delivery and, boy, do I want all the help I can get.
Sometimes, when I’m alone like this, I find myself imagining what it could have been like. If I hadn’t left Chicago, if my mother had never married David, if Levi hadn’t turned his back on me four years ago. What would my life be like now? Would I still be preparing to have his baby? Would I be opening my own practice?
None of it matters anyway. There’s no way to turn back the clock and change history. It is what it is, and all I can do now is move forward and make the best of what life has given me.
I’m in the middle of stretching, dropping my spine and lifting my chin toward the ceiling when I hear the sound of shoes squeaking on the hard tiled floor heading my way. Janey must have finished up and is coming to check on me one more time before she goes. I love her to death, but the girl is a mother hen and sometimes it drives me bonkers.
“Before you ask,” I tell her, cutting her off at the pass, “yes, I’m staying and no, I don’t want you to wait for me. Go home, tell Rio I said hello, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Who’s Rio?”
Holy shit! Dropping my head, I scramble to my feet and turn to face the door. That voice...I’d know it anywhere.
Wearing a pair of snug black slacks that hug his thighs, a white button down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal his colorful tattoos, and a black silk vest left hanging open, Levi is dressed to kill.
My mouth waters at the sight of him and my heart kicks into overdrive, behaving as if no time at all has passed. Instantly, my body screams for contact, but my head is shouting at me that this isn’t real. It can’t be. Why the hell would Levi Black be here, in Ohio, standing in my place of business, looking like that?
“What are you doing here?” Last I checked, my mom said he’d had some kind of blow out with his father and disappeared. No one’s heard from him in days.
Casting his gaze around the room, Levi steps inside and slowly makes his way around, checking out the equipment. Stopping in front of a Pilates machine, he runs his fingers down one of the resistance cords. “I was in the neighborhood,” he replies, his voice smooth.
“In the neighborhood,” I muse. “And how does one just happen to randomly end up in Ohio? I thought you were off touring the country and winning more trophies.”
Turning on his heel, he leans up against the metal framing, shoving his hands into his pockets, and arches a dark brow. “I have, yes. Three trophies, in fact. If we win the next game, we’ll be in line for the Cup.”
I stare at him, unsure of the appropriate response. Do I congratulate him, the man who was just a few months ago telling me he wasn’t into it anymore, or kindly ask him to cut the bullshit and get to the point?
“That’s great, Levi. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks,” he says softly, and drops his chin to his chest. I frown, sensing the downward shift in his mood. He draws in a long breath and, pushing away from the machine, his eyes lock with mine as he slowly approaches. “It’s been a long time, Vista. Too long,” he murmurs as he stops directly in front of me.
All my defenses lower under the weight of his intense stare. When he lifts his hand to push back a strand of hair that has escaped my ponytail, a shiver of awareness tracks through me.
“Yeah,” I agree, my voice weak.
His bearded smile appears and I catch a hint of those dimples underneath, causing my heart to skip. “I’ve missed you. The house was too quiet without you there. It’s as if you took all the life with it when you left.”
Swallowing, I find myself leaning into his touch, absorbing the exquisite feel of his skin on mine like a woman starved for affection.
“I missed you, too,” I admit, and I swear it feels as if someone has stolen all the oxygen from the room. “I shouldn’t have left like I did.” I lay awake at night sometimes thinking of all the things I should have done different, and sticking around long enough to talk it out tops the list.
A smile creases Levi’s cheek as he lifts a finger and taps it against the end of my nose. “I always said you were smarter than you looked.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a real son of a bitch?”
He chuckles and I glare up at him, annoyed that my comment appears to amuse him.
“A few times, but you’re the only person I’ve met whose mouth can make it sound dirty.”
I wonder if he’ll think it sounds dirty if I punch him in the gut. Immediately, I chastise myself for the thought. Levi inspires my violent side, and since I’ll be bringing another human being into the world soon, I have to get a grip on that. Even though I won’t be the one raising my child, I still want to be seen as a good mother while I can.
“So, I see you have your own practice now. How is that working out for you?”
“The grand opening is tomorrow morning, so we’ll see.” I draw back, needing some distance. If I weren’t pregnant, I could go for a stiff drink right about now. “So far, though, everything is going smoothly. As soon as I finish stocking the massage room, we’ll be ready to go.”
“Massage room?” Levi’s blue eyes twinkle with mischief. “You know, I have this kink in the back of my neck—”
“Hold that thought,” I chuckle, raising my hand in a stop motion. There’s no way in hell I’m going to rub any part of his body, regardless of how hot he looks. My gaze trails over him once more. Damn, he looks good. Like really, really fucking good.
I have to stop looking at him. It’s been far too long since I’ve been touched by anything other than my own hand and he’s dangerous for my libido, which has been on overdrive lately.
Just thinking about the reason for my raging hormones,
my hands go to my stomach. It’s an automatic reaction, and I don’t even realize I’ve done it, until Levi’s eyes follow the movement.
In an effort to hide the pregnancy as long as possible, I’ve taken to wearing looser clothing. Generally speaking, I’m not big enough to show yet. Unless a person knows to look for it, the bump that just popped up last week is hardly visible. But I just drew attention to it.
“Levi,” I rush to say. “I can explain.”
His expression is unreadable, but if I had to guess what’s running through his head right now, it would probably be something along the lines of what the fuck!
“That you’re obviously pregnant?” Levi asks, his voice strangely calm. “There’s not much to explain. So, who’s the lucky guy?”
When his eyes meet mine, I see pain reflecting in them. Ah, so he thinks I’ve moved on, does he? A part of me considers letting him continue believing it. It would be so easy to lie. He’d be hurt, yes, but it’s not as if he doesn’t deserve a taste of his own medicine. A simple lie and I’d be rid of him for good. I’d be free to live my life, run my business, and decide what’s best for my child without interference.
I consider the future and what it would mean if I decided to go through with the lie. I’d spend the next eighteen years looking over my shoulder, wouldn’t I? For as long as Levi is in the media spotlight, I run the risk of being found out. All it would take is one misstep, one slip of the truth, and the secret of our relationship would be subject to scrutiny. Everything up to that point, all the hiding and the secrecy, would have been in vain. Not to mention, it’d be incredibly selfish and unfair to our child.
Which is why I know I can’t spin a tale. And maybe I don’t want to. This life I’ve chosen is shaping up to be a great one, but I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that there’s just something missing. Maybe that something is Levi. Even if we can’t be together, even if he’s moved on and no longer wants me, he still deserves to know the truth. He deserves to know he made a child, whether or not he’ll be there to raise it.