My Last First Kiss

by Weston Parker

  I was ready to have a heart-to-heart, but instead, he had gone off on me. He had said hurtful things about me and about himself. Surely, he didn’t think I actually felt that way about him. I had been nothing but sweet and supportive the whole time and right when I could have been pissed that he had lied to me about his past or at least omitted a lot yet again. But no, I was there, ready to be on his side, and all I got was his angry mumbles and then him stomping off down the hall and slamming his bedroom door. It was really hurtful, to have gone through so much with him, to have shown my support and love for him and have him turn on me like that. I didn’t deserve it. I deserved at least the same respect he had given the damn morning television hostess, but he couldn’t even show me that. It was the first time I had seen him like that, and he wasn’t being the tough, strong protector I was used to. He was bitter, resentful, and callous, and I didn’t like it even one bit.

  He had yelled at me like I was a child, like I was some paparazzi on the corner hounding him for a story. He had told me he was sorry for being a deadbeat. What did he think of me if I actually believed he was a piece of shit and still stood by him? I knew it was his house, and he should be free to let things out there, but that didn’t mean he should be allowed to treat me like shit because I had feelings about the way he was talking to me. None of it was good, not even in the least.

  I headed out of the complex and took a right, figuring it was New York, which meant eventually I would find somewhere to eat. I came upon a bagel shop and decided that would be my best option. I grabbed a bagel and a cup of coffee and took it with me when I left. I didn’t feel like sitting there eating. I needed to take a walk, clear my mind, and be able to think through what had happened over the last couple of days. At first, I was walking along, eating my bagel, and not paying attention to anything around me. As I stopped at a crosswalk, though, I looked up at a couple of people standing down the block. They were looking in my direction and pointing their fingers at me. I groaned and crossed the street, turning the other direction, and hanging a left as soon as I possibly could. I turned the corner out of sight and stopped, throwing the rest of my bagel in the trash with attitude. I couldn’t even go out for a walk on my own without someone following me.

  I couldn’t believe these photographers were really interested in me or what I had to say. Ryan wasn’t even there with me, so there was no way they would think any pictures of me would be worth anything, right? Apparently, they did, and I wasn’t having any of it. I was not in the mood for that bullshit today, and it was very likely that if they caught me, I would definitely give them a piece of my mind. Ultimately, that wasn’t in the best interest for anyone, so I continued walking, deciding to pick up the pace. I stopped at the end of the block and waited for a car to pass, looking back behind me. There were a couple following me around the block, and I was starting to feel like I was being hunted. I hurried across the intersection and stepped to the edge of the curb, waving my hand for a cab. As soon as it pulled up, I jumped in the back looking up and watching as the couple started running in my direction.

  “Take me to the Reines Complex across from City Park,” I said quickly.

  “Yep,” he said, pulling out right before they were able to get to the side of the car for a picture.

  I sat back in the cab and leaned my head back, closing my eyes and breathing heavily. When we pulled up out front, I paid the cabbie and headed into the complex. The front desk agent, who knew me by name at that point, opened up the private elevator for me and sent me up to the top floor. The door was still unlocked when I got there, and I walked in, looking around and realizing the penthouse was empty. I looked all over for Ryan, but he was nowhere to be found. Well, that was my luck. I tossed my bag down in the kitchen and went over, pouring myself a cup of coffee. At least Ryan had left me some coffee in the pot. I sat down at the counter and put my chin in my hand, trying to decide what I was going to do with my day. I didn’t want to sit around the penthouse, but I also didn’t want to be chased around all day by photographers. Just then, I heard the ding of the elevator.

  I got up and made my way out to the foyer, expecting to see Ryan walking in the door. I had left it open for him, so he wouldn’t have to bother with his keys. I stopped in my tracks as I rounded the corner, not seeing Ryan, but instead seeing a very familiar, an unwanted face. Natasha was standing there in all of her couture glory, looking like she was on a damn mission. I wondered how she had gotten up the elevator, but then I spotted a gold key in her hand. She must have still had it from when she was with Ryan.

  She looked over at me and arched an impeccable eyebrow at me. Immediately, I was on the defensive, but what was I supposed to do? Kick her out kicking and screaming? I folded my arms across my chest and gave her sass right back.

  “Well,” she said. “I can see you’ve made yourself comfortable here. I guess its nicer than the barn you’re used to, right? I mean it doesn’t have the same smell of manure, but there’s plenty of horseshit floating around these walls to make you feel right at home.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned my back to her, walking out into the living room. I had hoped that would give her the clue to get the hell out, but instead, I listened to the clickety-clack of her stilettos on the marble floors of the foyer as she followed me into the house. The last thing, besides maybe Janson showing up, that I needed was this bitch to come waltzing into the penthouse like she fucking owned it. It was making me completely pissed off, but I was trying to keep my cool.

  “Where is Ryan?” she barked.

  “I don’t have a clue,” I said, spinning around to face her. “He’s not here, so maybe you should get the hell out.”

  “I know what you are,” she said with a smirk. “You play it like you’re some wholesome doll baby from a small town in God knows where, that you’re so innocent and sweet. But I know that’s a bunch of bullshit. You aren’t sweet at all. You’re a gold digger. You saw the opportunity to snag billions, and you took it. Not that I can blame you. I would get tired of living in the pig troughs too.”

  “So, wait,” I said. “I thought I was a farmer, but now I’m a malicious gold digger out for Ryan’s fortune, a fortune you tried hard to get but were unsuccessful. Which is it? I’d really like to know which one I am, so I can make plans to either steel billions or farm some fields.”

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes, strutting past me to Ryan’s office and looking inside. My blood was boiling at that point, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take from the Russian bitch who caused so much drama for Ryan. I had zero patience for this woman, especially when she was constantly trying to put me down. Finally, after wandering around for several minutes, she was convinced Ryan wasn’t hiding anywhere and snubbed her nose at me as she walked out the door and shut it behind her.

  I groaned loudly, walking over and sitting down on the couch. I’d had it with New York City. It was too noisy, and there was virtually no privacy. To make matters worse, when you had a billionaire boyfriend who was the hottest topic trending on Twitter, you pretty much signed your life over to the paparazzi. I looked down as my phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of me. It was Alison, and I was more than happy to see her calling, at least until I answered and found her a sobbing mess on the other line.

  “I broke it off with Jimmy,” she sobbed. “And this is definitely the last time. No take backs at all.”

  “Oh, girl,” I said, feeling so bad for her. “I’m so sorry. I want to be home.”

  “Are you okay?” she sniffled.

  “You know what? I don’t think I am,” I said. “And I’m going to fix that. Fuck it. I’m coming home. New York City is not for me. Will you pick me up from the airport?”

  “Of course,” she said, sounding happier.

  “I’ll text you in a few with the flight info,” I said. “Hold on, girl. I’ll be there soon.”

  I hung up the phone and raced to the bedroom, pulling out my suitcases and packing my bags. I ordered a cab from
an app I had downloaded when I first got to the city and rolled my bags to the front door. I looked around the apartment for a moment and sighed before leaving and pulling the door behind me. This time, I was leaving, and I wasn’t going to say goodbye. By that point though, I was pretty sure Ryan had forgotten all about me anyway. He had way too much drama going on.

  Chapter 46

  Ryan

  I had been in my room when I heard Sara leave that morning. I had just gotten out of the shower, but I decided I needed to give her some space. I had made an ass of myself the night before, taking out my aggression on her and making her cry. It was a terrible thing to do, and I stayed up all night thinking about it. I didn’t even know what to say to make things better. I had let her down. I didn’t blame her if she was fucking pissed at me that day. I would have been if I were in her shoes. I would actually have been more than pissed, and I was hoping she would have at least given me a piece of her mind. She hadn’t, though, and I had to respect her way of dealing with things.

  After she had left, I pulled out a suit and got dressed, deciding the best place to be was my office headquarters. Sitting in my home office was starting to drive me crazy, and I needed to get myself back into some sort of routine if I was going to move past everything that had happened. I didn’t know how long it would take, but waiting any longer was only going to make me more bitter and angrier, which obviously wasn’t a good combination. I called down to have my security ready to head over to the building with me. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to any reporters and didn’t even want to give them the chance to piss me off to the point where I told them off. The first thing I had done that morning was call my PR agent and instructed her and the firm to handle all requests for comments and all interviews from that point forward. She wanted to argue with me, but I was having none of it. I was resolute in my decision, and breaking down on Sara like that had made me realize I needed to take a stand. I had said my piece, and now, it was time to move forward.

  This thing had ruled my life for several days, and it had changed the man I was. I saw part of my father in me when I was sitting there the night before, the mean bitter part I hated more than anything. It was time for this drama to die down, but until I stopped responding and giving them stories to run, it never would. I would just have to see where I stood when it was all over with.

  Everyone was surprised but happy to see me back in the office, actually getting some work done instead of answering the journalists. It felt good to be working on the ranch project again, and it kind of renewed my faith in the process. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about Sara and the way that I had treated her. I had been racking my brain since I woke up, trying to think of some way to apologize. It had to be a lot better than an I’m sorry. She deserved so much better than that. I sat in my office scrolling through the internet, even falling as low as to look up articles on the best way to apologize to a woman. There were a lot of good ideas, but none I thought Sara would actually appreciate or fall for. Finally, I decided it was one of those moments when I leaned on the old faithful, flowers. Women loved flowers, and I knew they would soften her enough to at least hear me out. It had to be roses, though. They were the flower that covered all bases, and there needed to be a lot of them, like a dozen.

  Was a dozen enough? Fuck it, I would buy every rose the florist had in stock. I called up the shop that was about six blocks from the penthouse and ordered every rose they had. They said they would load them up, and I could meet them at the private elevator. When I hung up, I felt solid with my plan, so I grabbed my suit jacket and wallet and headed out of the office. I met the van at the elevator and helped them load the thing up with roses. One guy went with me upstairs to get them all off and right inside of the door. We took the elevator up with barely enough room for us to fit in there. I walked out and opened up the door, whispering for him to be quiet as we carefully unloaded all the flowers and put them all over the foyer. When we were done, I thanked him and tipped him an extra hundred bucks. I closed the front door and stood there looking over all of my handiwork. There was no way she couldn’t smile seeing all of those flowers, and they smelled amazing too.

  I walked into the living room and looked around, but she wasn’t in there or in the kitchen. I went back to her bedroom and peeked in, but she wasn’t there either. She must not have come back from her outing yet. That was okay. I would make it even more special by lugging all the flowers into her bedroom and setting them up everywhere. I went to work, filling the bedroom with the beautiful red, yellow, pink, and white roses, smiling as I arranged each bunch just perfectly for when she walked into the room. When I was done, I dusted off my hands and closed her bedroom door behind me. I walked into the office and picked up my cell phone, dialing her number. I sat there smiling for a moment, expecting to hear her voice any minute, but she never picked up. I didn’t leave a message, only pulled the phone down, clicking the end button and staring at it for a moment. Even when she was the angriest at me, she still would answer my calls. Suddenly, a rumble of fear filled my belly, and I shook my head, not wanting to think about the worst.

  I got up from my desk and ran down the hall, throwing the bedroom door open and looking around. I had been so determined to set the flowers up perfectly that I hadn’t even for a second thought about the fact that the room looked incredibly empty. I turned the corner and opened her closet doors, but all of her stuff was gone. Her clothes, her suitcases, her personal items, were all gone, and there was nothing left of her in the whole apartment. I leaned against the dresser, feeling a pain deep in my heart, hoping I was wrong, hoping anything else had happened but what I was thinking. I walked over to her bed and sat down on the edge, pulling out my cell phone and calling her again. No answer, so I called again but still no answer. I sat there calling her phone over and over again, hoping that time would be the one she picked up. Still, there was no answer. I texted her, thinking maybe she would respond to that but still nothing. I slammed my phone down on the bed, angry with myself for not seeing this coming.

  I kept telling myself over and over again to stay calm, to work through this, to be patient with the whole situation, but it was really difficult to do considering I was fearing the worst. I shook my head, trying to think of where she might have gone. I thought about Alec at first but knew he would never keep a secret like that from me. There were thousands of hotels in the city, and there would be no way I could figure out which one she had gone to. That was, if she was even still in the city at all. I got up from the bed and searched every room meticulously, thinking maybe I missed a note she had left me or anything to explain what she had decided. Still, I found nothing, not even a speck of hair from her head. It was like she had never existed, like I had imagined the entire thing. I walked over to the windows and looked out over the city, unable to comprehend what had happened. Just then, my phone rang, and I scrambled to pull it out of my pocket, hoping it was Sara. It wasn’t. It was my PR rep. I almost didn’t answer it, not feeling like I wanted to argue with her anymore, but it was a good thing I did.

  “What are you doing?” she said curiously.

  “Standing in my apartment,” I groaned.

  “And where is Sara?”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I just got a notification of her name popping up in an article, and I read it,” she said. “It said that she had been spotted at the airport, looking unhappy at best. Is Sara at the airport? What the hell happened? You’re supposed to be keeping this together.”

  “Fuck,” I yelled out, ending the call and running for the door.

  I ran from the apartment and took the elevator down to the parking garage. I pulled the keys to the SUV out and jumped inside, starting the engine and screeching tires as I drove toward the exit. I sped out on the street, honking my horn and screaming at people as I battle midday city traffic to get to the airport. It was like everyone and their mother decided to drive that day, and I was getting nowhere fast. I tapped my hands against t
he steering wheel and took a sharp right turn, remembering an alternate route to the airport.

  When I got there, I jumped out of the car and left it sitting there, running inside to the desk. I asked them to tell me if there were any flights leaving the airport that would land near Portland, Oregon. The woman looked at me strangely but typed away on her computer, reading to herself as I stood there impatiently.

  “There was only two today,” she said.

  “Okay,” I said excitedly. “When do they leave?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “They have both already departed. The last leaving about ten minutes ago.”

  Sara was gone, and I was left standing there in the middle of the airport, completely and totally devastated. She had left without even saying goodbye, and she didn’t leave a note or any reason as to why she did it. I knew I had a rough night the night before, but I never thought I would have chased her away like that. I thanked the woman at the counter and headed back out to my car, getting inside before the cops ticketed me. I put the car in drive and just drove out of the airport and out of the city. I needed to clear my mind. The love of my life had left, and I didn’t know if I would ever see her again.