by Harloe Rae
“Yes.” I want to hiss the word, but don’t. Fed up doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. Being employed is nice, and I’d like to keep it that way, but not for the sake of my already shattered pride. Plus, his threat lost any real merit in the last month.
His legs visibly flex, and he crosses them at the ankles. It would seem he’s trying to hold back from prowling forward. “You don’t mean that.”
“It clearly doesn’t matter what I want.” I motion at the otherwise empty room for emphasis.
Landon flattens his mouth into a firm line. “Petulance doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m pretty sure a bit of attitude is called for right about now.”
“Can’t we move past this?” His expression is so damn earnest that the air squeezes from my lungs.
“Absolutely not.” My next breath is barely a wheeze. The need to escape this confinement burns my throat. I stride to the door.
“Savannah, wait.”
My footsteps falter on their own accord. “Why should I? I was only a good fuck. It’s over now.”
“You’re more than that.” The honesty clanging from his tone begs me to believe him, but he destroyed my trust.
“Not to you.” I pause for mere seconds like a dog waiting for scraps. Waiting for him to correct me is beyond foolish. “Enjoy your morning, Mr. Winters.”
His grip meets my elbow. He’s hovering close enough to brush his lips against my ear. “Sugar, it can’t end like this.”
Melting into him would be so easy. His crisp woodsy scent infiltrates my system until I’m dizzy from ingesting him. My legs practically quake against the natural instinct to sway backward. He’s turning my body against me. The conflicting emotions stoke a riot to rage inside me. “Why not? We’ve hated each other from the start.”
“But things changed.” The suggestion isn’t lost on me, but I’m done falling for his shit.
“For you, maybe.” I cough to cover the slight tremble in my voice.
“Don’t lie to me, Savannah. Not about this. If there’s a chance—”
“Just go, Landon.” I blink against the sting peppering my eyes.
He releases a weighty sigh. “I’ll leave, but not permanently. You can expect to see me again.”
It takes great effort to restore any semblance of my resistance. “And you can expect a similar result.”
“That’s just fine with me. Want to know why?”
“I’m on the edge of my seat.” No one needs to point out that I’m standing.
Landon leans in, his breath fanning across my neck. “I’m no stranger to indifference. People rarely get a reaction from me. You care about me, Savannah. If you didn’t, I’d already be gone.”
Damn him and his intuitive logic. I seethe without uttering a sound. If only I could perfect the art of remaining neutral. This man prods me until I burst and rely on seemingly faithful comebacks. “You’re delusional.”
“And you’re stumbling into old habits.” His chuckle is almost my undoing. Then he keeps talking. “Lust and loathing straddle a fine line, sugar. Love isn’t far behind.”
By the grace of some higher power, Landon storms from the conference room after that parting blow. The guy can unnerve me with a simple smirk. I didn’t need to test my resolve with more temptation. My freaking knees are knocking just recalling the flames emanating from him. Why I had to go and catch feelings is further proof that my curse is real. I put up a brave front, but underneath the titanium is a girl just wanting to find love. He’s such a bastard, and I’m a total idiot for wanting him.
I’m five steps from my cubicle when Vince calls out to me. “Can I see you for a minute, Vannah?”
A stifled sigh whooshes from me and I hang my head. I cannot handle another proverbial boxing match at the moment, but denying his request is out of the question. With a smile pasted on solely for appearances, I turn and stride into his office.
Vince settles into the chair behind his desk. He gestures for me to take a seat. Any hope that this would be a quick chat gets dashed with that motion. “You know I’m not one to fluff bad news. As always. beating around the bush wastes our time.”
I nod, willing to make this less painful for both of us. “If you’re referring to how I acted toward Mr. Winters, there’s a reasonable explanation.”
One that I’ll readily pull from my ass while he lectures me on proper etiquette with clients.
He frowns, accentuating the wrinkles around his mouth. “That explanation is probably what this is about, I’m afraid.”
“Oh?” A sinking sensation tugs at my belly. I don’t let my grin slip, though. “Okay, good. I figured that’s what you wanted to discuss.”
Vince drags a hand through his hair, sending the strands into disarray. “Under normal circumstances, I would’ve already given you a reminder that you’re paid on commission. Being rude to clients isn’t tolerated, Vannah. You know better.” He slices through the air with an open palm. “But this is about a more immediate subject.”
My stomach plummets and I wince. Requesting that he spits it out tickles on my lips. “Did I do something else wrong?”
“There’s no easy way to have this conversation.” His sentiment about not dawdling is almost comical at this point. If there wasn’t a thick gurgle pestering my insides, I might laugh.
“Just tell me.” I almost roll my wrist to speed the process along.
“Olivia just informed me that she overheard a heated argument between you and Landon Winters. She claims that you’ve formed a physical relationship with him. Now, what you do on your personal time is none of my business. I couldn’t care less. This isn’t me trying to dictate what you do, okay?” His eyes are wide and hold a terrified sheen.
Considering my father is a highly respected lawyer in this state, Vince should be shitting his pants while trying to discipline me for sleeping with a client. This accusation is based on hearsay, which makes it worse. Vile hatred for that woman incinerates my veins. I pat at my arms to be sure that blisters aren’t forming.
He sucks in a deep breath and launches into the next level of his spiel. “With that being said, I have no clue if Olivia’s claims are even true. I would’ve been reluctant to believe her if I didn’t just witness your outburst with him. That display was from a woman scorned, Vannah. This is exactly why mixing business and pleasure causes complications. Lashing out at our biggest account holder is unacceptable. Before I assigned him to you, I said he could change the name of our company. Refusing to speak with him while he’s trying to discuss future projects defeats that purpose. I can’t have you jeopardizing our reputation over a lover’s spat that has nothing to do with Brogen Realty.”
My cheeks sting, signaling that there’s a deep blush blooming. He sure knows how to kick a bitch while she’s already down. I’m freshly battered and bruised, and this is too much for my wounded soul. Not that he’s truly aware of my demise with Landon. Countless rebuttals are swirling through my mind, but I remain silent. That probably slaps a guilty stamp on my forehead.
“I can’t reward that type of behavior,” Vince continues. “You were being considered for a leadership role, but what I saw today proves you’re not ready for that responsibility. There’s a lot left for you to learn, which includes maintaining appropriate boundaries with clients. This can’t happen again, Vannah.”
What an asshole. Reciting sections from anti-discrimination laws would be adequate payback. There is zero evidence that the supposed crime he’s accusing me of is actually true. He’s skating on thin ice in regard to violating my rights. I’ve broken enough rules lately to let that slide, at least until I can be more rational while processing through this.
I’m also tempted to ream him out for slut-shaming me. Almost enough to spit out an explicit slew I’ll never be able to take back. Regardless of my position in this company, if I plan to work in real estate moving forward, I don’t need to burn all of my bridges. My commission from the Sunny Skies account isn’t finalized by any means, but I�
��ve already far surpassed my yearly quota. I’ll be all right on my own.
After listening to quite enough of his drivel already, I stand and resurrect my boss bitch face. It’s about damn time that mask makes a reappearance. “I quit.”
This might’ve been an impulsive decision, but the strain clamping my chest eases once the words escape. I control my own destiny, dammit. Too much power has already been stripped from me.
Vince’s jaw goes slack, then he begins blubbering like a fish out of water. “Um, what? No, Vannah. Uh, you don’t… I mean, this isn’t—”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve outgrown grow this place, especially after your little speech about setting a good example to other staff. Nice excuse, Vince.” I pause in my dignified retreat to peek at him over my shoulder. “Were you really planning to give me the promotion?”
His brow furrows, as if my question stumps him. “Prior to this? Absolutely.”
“Huh,” I mutter. “Well, that sucks.”
Then I walk out. It takes me all of seven minutes to pack my shit. I’m a minimalist like that. Just as I’m stacking the last of my files, a nasally voice stabs into the routine motions I’d been gliding on.
“Oh, did you get fired?” Olivia’s pout is faker than her boob job. That snide comment doesn’t deserve a response. She doesn’t take the not-so-subtle hint. “I guess Landon Winters will be all mine now.”
A knife lodges directly into my spine. The resulting flinch is unavoidable. I like to consider myself level-headed and logical. I’ve always believed that dragging too many emotions into any circumstance is certain to leave a clear path for trouble to follow. I continue gnawing on my tongue while she yaps at me. This girl has done me wrong, but there’s a silver lining.
With a slow inhale, I spin on my heel to stare her down. “Karma is a real bitch, Olivia. She won’t be gentle with you.”
“Bring it on,” she taunts.
I just shake my head and strut away. Each click of my stilettos symbolizes a step I’m making for the better. Further away from her, this company, and the narrow minds in charge. I busted my ass for this job, and I’m done settling for less.
That reminds me of something Landon said to me. As the elevator doors slide shut, I let my mind latch onto the memory. An eye roll accompanies my trek down the reminiscing spiral. Of course, he barges into my thoughts at a moment like this. Even without being physically present, he dominates the space and demands to be seen. Damn, that guy is such an arrogant jerk.
But maybe Landon meant well by trying to steal me from Vince. I shrug the concept off my straight shoulders. It will remain a mystery.
I drive on autopilot to the place I’ll always be accepted, regardless of my career choices. Sometimes, even as an adult, a girl just needs her mom. There’s a daze stealing my clarity as I climb the porch steps. Mother’s intuition swoops in to rescue me. I don’t even need to ring the bell.
Mama Simons opens the door with open arms waiting. “Who dared to hurt my baby?”
“That’s a loaded question, Mom.” I giggle while she envelops me in a toasty hug. Memories of warm apple pie and carefree afternoons in the sunshine embrace me as she rocks back and forth.
“Well, come on in and let’s chat all about it.” She guides me into the kitchen with an arm looped around my waist.
“Thanks for being home whenever I decide to drop by unannounced.” I lean into her comforting support.
She hums and pecks my temple. “The role of a parent never ends, and I’m not the only one you can rely on.”
With that cue, my father strides into the room. The pressure that had dissipated slams into me with renewed force. A spasm instantly chomps at my stomach. They don’t seem to notice any sign of distress wafting from me. My mom beams at him while nodding in my direction. Real subtle.
I cringe while lowering myself into a chair. “Please don’t start, Dad. I can’t handle your wrath right now.”
He frowns, taking a seat next to me. “Why would I be upset with you?”
“That’s a fair point,” I mutter. It might’ve been a tad presumptuous to assume he’d already be aware of my unemployment status. Just that daunting title makes me want to bang my head on the table. “I left Brogen Realty.”
“Oh?” My mother’s mouth forms a small circle. “And why might that be?”
“It’s complicated.” I exhale and glare at the ceiling. “That’s not really what I want to think about right now.”
“Does this mean—”
My dad interrupts her with a cutting motion. “I doubt it, love.”
I slice a glance to him. “No, I’m not going to law school.”
His chuckle is loose and airy. The sound contrasts against his fierce image while arguing in hostile litigations. “Yes, sweetie. I’m well aware you’re happy in commercial real estate for whatever reason.”
“It’s the path I chose whether you approve or not.”
“I’m learning to accept that.” His tone is too calm.
I squint at him. “You’re usually much more adamant about my poor decision-making. I’m expecting you to go off on a tangent any minute.”
“Yikes.” He winces. “Am I really that bad?”
“Yes,” I state without pause. We’ve ripped at this topic on countless occasions, but I’m typically more forgiving. On the surface, at least. The man is my father and deserves my respect, even if he’s cross with me. But I’ve ripped off too many emotional band-aids in the last hour to mince my words any longer. “You’ve always been really hard on me. Trevor has it easy because he followed in your footsteps. That’s what I get for being a rebel.”
He looks to my mom for clarification. She shrugs, then nods in my favor. All traces of humor fade from his expression. “All right, maybe I’m too tough on you. I knew you could handle it, Savvy. You’re my fierce fighter. Why do you think I’m so disappointed that being a lawyer doesn’t call to you? For me, it’s like you’re made for the courtroom. However, I understand it’s not your passion. Am I frustrated you don’t want to be part of the family firm? Sure. That doesn’t stop me from celebrating your success and accomplishments.”
That’s the moment I burst into tears. Big, ugly, sloppy streams rush down my face. Pure fire burns my nose as I let it all pour out. I cover my wet cheeks, but the tracks keep flowing.
My father looks absolutely horrified, if his round eyes are anything to judge by. That typically stern stare is blown wide, enlarging his shock to maximum levels. “What’s this? I’ve only seen you cry three times, and never as an adult.”
“It’s just a lot,” I blubber. This sensation is like being cleansed from top to bottom without moving a muscle. It’s glorious, yet uncomfortable. I shift in my seat as the emotion keeps leaking in steady rivulets. “I’ve always assumed you were angry with me. You never seemed to care about my dreams and goals.”
“Vannah.” He sighs and I brace for his lecture about showing weakness. “I’m proud of you.”
I let my jaw sag, an exaggerated breath whistling from me. “Can you repeat that?”
“I’m very proud, sweetie.” He laughs and ruffles my hair.
The affectionate display is even more concerning. This is highly out of character, more so than me crying. My dad isn’t the touchy-feely sort. He’s where my tender, sensitive skin—lacking any semblance of thickness—comes from. The thought is good for a trembling grin. That’s also how I got pumped full of sarcasm and snark.
“It wouldn’t hurt to hear it more often from you,” I admit.
“I agree, Savvy. I never intended to be stingy with the praise.”
I huff at the nickname. He’s the only person who gets away with calling me that. “All right, Papa Bear.”
“That’s nice.” He chuffs my chin. “Reminds me of when we were best buddies. The division between us lately is my fault. I’ll do better.”
I’m not certain why my frustrations with him are finally making an impact. This wound was gouged years
ago during my freshman year in college. What began as a tiny disagreement spread into a painful conflict that could no longer be healed quickly. Since then, it’s scabbed over and formed a spiteful layer of scar tissue. My own stubbornness is responsible for a portion. It’s been easier to ignore the issue than constantly fight about it. I don’t have the energy to question this gift. It’s a relief to mark one problem as solved. I practically sag in my chair after the burden lifts.
With a grin slanting my lips, I wipe at the remaining moisture clinging to my skin. “I believe you.”
“Good.” He pats my hand that’s resting on the table. “It makes me sick that you ever thought otherwise. Now, what else is bothering you?”
I chew on my bottom lip, suddenly feeling like a sullen teenager again. “Well, there’s a boy.”
Wrinkles appear around his mouth when he smirks. “Landon Winters?”
He earns a gape from me. “How do you know his name?”
“Your mother told me.” He winks at her.
“Of course she did,” I mumble while shifting my gaze between them. These two have no secrets.
“He doesn’t deserve you.” The protective edge in his voice makes me snort.
“Yeah, yeah. No one ever will.”
My dad is quiet for a beat. “Does he give you the flutters?”
I gag and cover my mouth. “Gross, Dad. I’m not discussing this with you.”
There’s no chance I’m divulging that disaster to my father. It also doesn’t help that flutters are children’s play compared to the freaking hornet’s nest Landon stirs awake inside me. All those stings without any hope for honey. He’s the worst.
“Fine, don’t share details with the only man who will never betray you.”
“Low blow, Dad.” Our fences are still in the process of being mended.
“Fine, I’ll drop it. You’re capable of making great decisions, Vannah. Trust your heart.” He touches the spot on his chest that my mother owns. Let’s be honest—she rules the entire package.
“Wow,” I sigh. “That was really refreshing for me. I’m so relaxed and chill. How about you two? Therapeutic, right?”