#1 Rival

by Gephart, T

  Because right now I hated him more than I loved him.

  Or at least, I hoped I did.

  “It was a mistake, Lauren.” He refused to leave, his feet making up the space they’d lost seconds before as he came closer. “I’m sor—”

  “Get out.” I didn’t let him finish the word, pointing to the door.

  Sorry didn’t make things all right. It didn’t change anything, and it sure as hell didn’t communicate to me that he was genuinely apologetic.

  It meant nothing.

  Nothing.

  It was something to say when you screwed up that you hoped would make it better, and it got tossed around waaaaaaay too easily.

  He stood still, not leaving like I’d asked and looked at me with defiance. “You really want me to leave?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t hesitate, refusing to do this on his terms.

  “Fine.” He took a step back, keeping his eyes on me the entire time. “But we’re not done here.”

  I didn’t bother dignifying his statement with a response, watching him leave and close the door before I slumped into my chair.

  It’s what I had wanted since Saturday.

  Since I’d walked out Eric’s door and called my sister to come get me. I’d dreamt about him finding out the truth, about looking at me and knowing that while he might not have agreed with them, I had my reasons.

  And in all those times I’d imagined and played it in my mind, it had never felt as horrible as it did just then.

  There was no vindication, no relief, and if I was honest, it almost felt worse. Because despite him finding out, we’d both still lost.

  My head dropped into my hands and I took slow, deep, breaths.

  I thought I was stronger than this, that I wouldn’t still want him. And even though I wasn’t stupid enough to let it happen, it didn’t stop the pang in my heart.

  Goddamn it.

  He didn’t return to my office or revisit our conversation. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but at least I was able to get through the rest of my day without having a nervous breakdown at work. Got to take the win when you can.

  And as I walked past his office as I was leaving for the day, I’d noticed the door was open and the room was empty.

  Everything was immaculate as usual—he hadn’t come in after talking to me and trashed the place—but it was rare for him to leave early. I checked my phone, noticing it was only six p.m., and while regular office hours didn’t really apply to us, it seemed weird that he was gone.

  Ignoring the anomaly while silently contemplating its significance, I drove home, thankful Morgan was back to working day shifts and was there to welcome me.

  “Did he get on his knees and beg?” she asked, the idea of a healthy dinner shelved. Instead, she insisted we get into our PJs, order pizza and break out the biggest bottle of wine she could find.

  “No, he tried to say sorry, like one stupid word is going to fix it,” I slurred, possibly drinking most of the bottle on my own. “Like did he not remember what the hell he’d said? In what universe is an apology going to fix that?”

  Morgan took a sip of her wine, wisely not gulping it like I had. “Such a jackass. We already agreed he needed to say sorry in at least four languages, he could have at least groveled a little.”

  Roman groveling wasn’t something I ever expected to see. I doubted he even knew how. But the thought of him on his knees, scuffing the fabric of his precious expensive suit did make me smile a little. Though chances were, it might have been the wine that was responsible for the smile.

  We were mostly done with dinner and already into our second bottle of wine when there was a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat or two as I looked over at my sister. I just knew it was him.

  “I don’t want to see him.” I dropped my voice to a whisper, shaking my head as my eyes stayed glued to the door. “I don’t want him here.”

  She reached out and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Then I’ll tell him to leave. Just sit tight and I’ll go get it.”

  I wasn’t going to leave the room and hide, even though it would have been the easier option. Instead, I shuffled back onto the couch and watched as Morgan opened the front door.

  She stood at the threshold, her arm bracing the wood as she turned around, looking mildly spooked. “Any idea why Eric Larsson is at our apartment?”

  “Hey, you must be Lauren’s sister, Morgan.” He held out his hand, blinding her with his Hollywood smile.

  It would have been easier if it had just been Roman, the intricacies of his family tree not yet explained to Morgan. There had been other things on my mind, like having my heart broken.

  “Wow, you know our names.” She shook his hand a little too enthusiastically. “Did Lauren do some legal work for you?” She caught herself, her hand flying up to her mouth. “I mean, you don’t have to answer that, it’s none of my business. I’m just . . . well, it’s not every day a movie star lands on your doorstep.” A nervous laugh escaped her lips.

  “Thanks, mind if I come in?” he asked her but looked over at me, his eyebrow rose as he waited for permission.

  “Yes, yes of course.” Morgan pulled him through the doorway, missing the whole exchange. “How rude of me, you are very welcome. Come in.”

  It wasn’t often that Morgan was reduced to a babbling mess, but springing a celebrity on her when we were wearing pajamas and drinking seemed to be the tipping point.

  “Hey, Eric.” I rose from the couch. “Something we can do for you?” I asked causally, ignoring the obvious reason he was here.

  It wasn’t like Roman to ask someone to play interference on his behalf, but then again, I wouldn’t put it past him either. “I was hoping to have a chat.” He looked over at Morgan and then back to me. “That is, if you can make the time.”

  I wondered if charisma and charm were hardwired to the Larsson DNA or if it was something they picked up after they came out of the uterus. That and a smile that could simultaneously melt panties, disengage brain cells, and render intelligent woman stupid. Because that lethal combination had a lot to answer for.

  “Sure, we can chat.” I ignored that I wasn’t dressed appropriately, and while not drunk, had questionable sobriety. “Morgan, can you—”

  “I have something to do.” She grabbed the empty bottle of wine and the half full one and bundled them into her hands. “It was nice meeting you, Eric.” She disappeared without being asked.

  “She didn’t know?” Eric nodded in the direction my sister had scampered as I invited him to take a seat.

  “That you’re Roman’s brother or that I know you?” I asked, shrugging because both the answers were the same. “No, she didn’t know anything other than I work with a jerk that I was stupid enough to date.”

  “Tia told me everything.” He shook his head, having the same tendency as his brother to run his hand through his hair when frustrated. “That she thought she was pregnant and that you talked her off the ledge.”

  “Lila was doing most of the heavy lifting,” I offered, my involvement more in procurement and evidence collection. “I just figured speculating wasn’t doing anyone any good, and I was in a position to change that.”

  “She was right, you know.” He laughed, before correcting himself. “Well, half right. I would have turned down the movie if she’d been pregnant. There was no way I would have left and missed a second of any of it. And her coming with me isn’t an option, so it would have been my only choice.” He turned and focused on me. “But I would never have regretted it, or ever blamed her for some perceived missed opportunity.”

  “Well, people can’t think clearly when they are emotional,” I offered, knowing the last thing Tia would have wanted was for him to be forced to make the choice.

  “Yeah, emotions can really screw with someone’s head. Makes you do all kinds of things that aren’t rational and/or smart.” He nodded, and it was clear we were no longer talking about his wife.

  “Eric, he’s yo
ur brother.” The bias not needed to be clarified. “But the way he acted . . .” I shook my head, not even able to finish the sentence.

  “I know you don’t know me, but I know him.” He continued when I didn’t speak. “And he is the most level-headed man I’ve ever met. He’s analytical and systematic, and when he makes a decision, he takes emotion out of it completely.”

  He held his hand up, stopping me from interrupting.

  “But he was different with you.”

  I took a deep breath. “What do you want me to say, Eric? He looked me right in the eye and told me he didn’t even care about me. That I embarrassed him, and that’s not even taking into account the shit he assumed when he found the pregnancy test. I mean, why the hell would I take a pregnancy test at someone else’s house? I know I wasn’t giving him a lot to go on, but come on. Not to mention that he assumed it was someone else’s kid. A client’s no less. Because calling me a shitty person wasn’t good enough for him, he had to attack my integrity and morality too. Like I’m the kind of person who would not only be manipulative, but have no honor either. It takes real talent to be that offensive, and it isn’t something he should be proud of.”

  “So . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you know all the loopholes to get us off the murder charge if we kill him? That sounds like it might be our only option.”

  A laugh bubbled up my throat, the situation too weird not to be funny. I was glad he wasn’t giving me the he-made-a-mistake-stop-being-such-a-bitch speech I was expecting. “We can make it look like an accident, simpler than worrying about arguing justifiable cause.”

  “I have a bunch of meds that can make it look like natural causes.” Morgan emerged from the kitchen, the glass of wine in her hand looking suspiciously full. “Sorry, I was eavesdropping.” She didn’t even try to hide it. “I’m willing to overlook that my sister has been dating a movie star’s brother for weeks and didn’t tell me, if you let me in on this action.” She took another swallow. “Plus, I was already involved in both obtaining the pregnancy test that I now know was for your wife, and picking up my sister when your brother acted like an ass. He’s lucky I have been biding my time up until this point.”

  “Morgan is a little protective.” I grabbed the wine from her hand, trying to minimize the damage. “Older siblings.” I laughed, as I pulled her down onto the couch.

  “Yeah, they’re funny like that.” He winked as he stood up. “I know nothing I say is going to change anything, but for what it’s worth he left our wedding shortly after you did. We assumed you had left together, and didn’t know different until Nick found him obnoxiously drunk at his apartment the next morning. Then he and Dave took turns babysitting him to make sure he didn’t end up drinking himself into a coma or doing something even more stupid.”

  “I didn’t know.” I shook my head, not even imagining he would have left his own brother’s wedding. “He seemed fine on Monday.”

  “Yeah, that was after he managed to pull his shit together and before he’d found out. He’d come clean about the two of you going your separate ways to Nick, but had been cagy about the details. It wasn’t until they told me that we put two and two together and told him the truth. It’s the closest I’ve ever seen him to looking destroyed.”

  “I’m not heartless, Eric.” I sighed, joining him as I stood. “I take no pleasure in any of it. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “All I’m saying is, if there is even the slightest chance,” he sunk his hands into his pockets, “talk to him. That’s all I’m asking. And in case you were wondering, he didn’t send me. He doesn’t even know I’m here, and will probably be pissed off I got involved.” He shrugged. “Someone has to save him from himself.”

  “Well, thanks for coming.” I stuck out my hand, feeling more confused now about Roman, and my feelings, than before he walked in. “I’m not making any promises.”

  “Not asking for any.” He shook my hand before turning to Morgan. “Nice meeting you.”

  “Movie star or not, if Lo decides we kill him, we’re sticking with that plan.” Morgan eyed him hard, no longer awestruck.

  He nodded as I walked him out. “I’ll help you hide the body.”

  We said our goodbyes and I shut the door. I didn’t even need to turn around to know Morgan was standing right behind me.

  “I was going to tell you.” I lifted my hands in defense. “Honestly.”

  She pulled me into a hug. “I know. I’m not mad. Maybe a little jealous your life is more exciting than mine, but never mad.”

  “I just don’t know, Morgan.” My head rested on her shoulder. “It’s a lot, and then two days later he was with someone else.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to decide anything tonight. Why don’t you sleep on it and see how you feel about it in the morning. Then if you feel like talking to him, just talk.”

  She made a good point. Nothing was going to be achieved tonight, and I had a lot to think about. At least one positive thing had come out of the whole mess. There were no more secrets and everyone knew the truth.

  Only thing left to figure out was, was it too late?

  THERE WAS A REASON I avoided heavy drinking on a weeknight. And at six a.m. when my alarm announced with great joy that it was time to get my sorry butt out of bed, there weren’t enough middle fingers or cups of coffee to make me okay with it.

  By some miracle I’d made it to work on time. Still worried I might have the remnants of a higher-than-legal blood alcohol level, I decided to catch a cab to work and leave my car at home. Morgan, who didn’t start until later in the day, was confident she’d be okay and offered to pick me up after we both finished.

  But Roman wasn’t there.

  First, I assumed he was running late—out of character but anything was possible—or had a morning meeting. But when he hadn’t arrived by lunchtime, I knew something was off.

  “Hey.” I stepped into Daniel’s office, his head buried in a file as usual. “Where’s Pierce this morning? Did the Mothership finally come and take him back home?”

  “He’s taken a personal day.” He didn’t look up. “Charlotte can help you this afternoon if you need it.”

  A personal day?

  “Is he sick?” I asked, knowing that unless some freak virus took hold in the last twenty-four hours, he wasn’t.

  “I didn’t ask.” Daniel lowered his pen and raised his eyes. “Is there anything else you needed?”

  “Nope, all good.” I smiled, slowly backing away. “I’ll get back to work, one of us has to if the other one is slacking.”

  The discomfort churned in my gut as I shut Daniel’s door and walked back to my office.

  In all the time I’d know Roman, he’d never taken a day off. Never taken a sick day, and would probably still find a way to come into work if he was bleeding out of his eyeballs.

  It was too much of a coincidence that yesterday we had our chat, and today he was gone, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who ran. No, he took on a problem head on, he’d even said—much to my annoyance—the conversation wasn’t done.

  So where the hell was he?

  I picked up my phone, my fingers restless on the surface as I debated calling him.

  No, that was probably his plan and I wouldn’t do that even if I wanted to.

  Instead, I ignored the gnawing need to call and busied myself with work, the minutes ticking slower than they usually did until it was time to go home.

  “You ready, Lo?” Morgan knocked at my door; last night’s wine-itis making her look more tired than usual. “I’m wiped, you cool if we get takeout again tonight?”

  I shut off my computer and grabbed my handbag. “I’m ready. And takeout is great, but let’s skip the wine this time.”

  She nodded in agreement as she followed me out, my eyes snagging on Roman’s open door as we left.

  “He already gone for the day?” Morgan’s eyebrows rose, her head tipping in the direction of Roman’s office as we made our way to the elevator.r />
  “Didn’t turn up.” I pressed the button and started our descent. “You don’t think he would have done something, right? Eric said he was in bad shape on the weekend but . . .”

  While I knew Roman was a grown man who made his own decisions—good or bad—and I was no way responsible for any of them, I wasn’t a total heartless bitch.

  “You want to go past his apartment and make sure he’s okay?” she offered, the elevator dinging as we arrived at the lobby.

  “No,” I scoffed as we walked to her car.

  It was ridiculous to even assume that I was the cause of his absence. How conceited did you have to be to draw that stupid conclusion? It probably had nothing to do with me.

  He was probably screwing one of the multiple women in his rotation, not even giving me a second thought, and here I was concerned about his welfare.

  Unless . . .

  Goddamn it.

  “Fine.” My knuckles went white as I grabbed the door handle. “But if he’s done something stupid, I’m going to kill him.”

  Morgan laughed, sliding into the driver’s side. “I’ll help you.”

  Anxiety filled me the closer we got to his apartment. And while I knew it could have been an elaborate plan to lure me there so we could talk, I needed to know that he was okay. Because, despite how many times I told myself I didn’t trust him, didn’t love him and no longer wanted to be with him—my heart knew otherwise. My heart, I’d decided, was an asshole.

  “He’s not here.” The doorman held the phone away from his ear after buzzing him one last time. The three attempts he’d made previously I’d deemed insufficient and insisted he try again.

  “Or he’s hurt and unable to answer the door,” I added, trying not to panic. “I think we should go up there and check.”

  “Ma’am, I just can’t let you into someone’s private residence unannounced.” He lowered the phone, his impatience growing by the second. “You aren’t on his list.”

  I didn’t care about the stupid rules, or the dumb list. All I needed to know was that Roman wasn’t lying in a pool of his own vomit. Or if there was something wrong, that I hadn’t been the catalyst.