"I’ll be fine. Sorry. When I’m upset I usually try to laugh it off. Clearly, my stand-up comedy skills need some work."
The rest of our lunch is thankfully awkward-joke free. We order a takeaway lunch for Vivian, and I head back to the office. I choose to walk as it’s beautiful out, and I want to take it all in before my flight in two days.
I take a detour through the park. I’m sure Vivian won’t mind if I’m a little late. I really wish I hadn’t. The beautiful trees, the sun shining down and warming my skin, the sounds of happiness everywhere are all turned to a nightmare when I see Lincoln and Rachael leaning up against a tree. He has his hands placed protectively on her belly as a photographer snaps away. They change positions and Lincoln stands behind Rachael, surrounding her belly with his arms, his face leaning down right next to hers. I can’t watch anymore. I practically run to the nearest bin and hurl my lunch. The judgmental stares from the people walking around the park just add to the frustrated tears now running freely down my face. I wipe my mouth with a tissue from my bag and make my way back to the office. I can’t wait to leave New York. Those two have ruined this place for me.
****
After the park incident yesterday, I left work early. I just didn’t feel right. My head was swimming with all kinds of thoughts, my stomach was churning, and I snapped at the new girl, Monica, when she mentioned how "sexy" she thought Lincoln is. Bitch clearly doesn’t use Google.
I’d spent hours in the hotel pool doing laps. Anything to take my mind off the asshole day from hell I’d just had. Finally exhausted, I went back to the room to eat with Pierce, shower and have an early night. I had a bad feeling Stage Two of the break up was on its way: anger. I needed to keep that shit contained. Angry Harbour is mean, and a little bit crazy.
This morning I woke feeling a little better. I head to the kitchen to make coffee when I see a very sexy, but unfamiliar man, walk out of Pierce’s bedroom. Jackie would wet her panties if she saw this guy. He’s like a Latino god.
"Hello, beautiful, can I trouble you for some coffee?"
Oh, that accent. My knees actually go weak and I lean against the counter. "I’ll make you a deal. You keep talking and I’ll make you a coffee." I wink at him as he makes his way over to me.
"What would you like me to talk about?" he says in a low, deep voice that sounds like melted chocolate. I literally swoon.
"Anything, just talk . . ." What the hell is wrong with me? This is Lincoln’s fault. I’m horny and frustrated and trying to flirt with my best friend’s one night-stand who is obviously gay. I shake my head. Fuck Lincoln. Him and his happy little family get to take photos in the park while I’m working and trying to mend a completely broken heart that is possibly beyond repair.
Dammit. The anger stage has arrived.
I continue listening to the young Ricky Martin talk about, well, I’m not really sure what. Maybe if he had a shirt on it would be easier to pay attention. I feel like a man. I know he’s talking, and I should be listening but mmm, abs . . .
My inappropriate eye-fuck of Ricky’s body is interrupted by a knock at the door. Who the hell is this now? I answer the door wearing just an oversized T-shirt. I’m greeted by a large bouquet of lilies and roses.
"Ms. Manning? I have a delivery for you."
Ricky comes up behind me and takes the large vase from the man at the door. "Do you need me to sign something?" He simply shakes his head and leaves.
"Oh, who are these from? Can I read the card?"
"Sure, why not?" I know they’re from Lincoln; they’re my favorite flowers. I’m not in the mood to read his card and cry. I have one night left here, and I want to at least attempt to enjoy it.
"Okay here goes. Harbour—that’s your name? I’m Matias, by the way. Anyway, Harbour, I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll find a way to make this work. I’ll do anything; just please give me time. I’ll be returning to work next month. I can’t wait to see your beautiful face again. I’ve missed you more than I can explain. I love you. Forever yours, Lincoln. Wow, he’s got it bad . . ."
I’m not upset. I don’t want to cry. This is odd.
"Matias, I’m going to have a shower and get ready for work. It was lovely meeting you. I’m leaving tomorrow, so if you like, feel free to take the flowers with you. Just leave the card."
I kiss him on the cheek and head to the bathroom to prepare for the day. Wow. I think my brain and heart have finally found a way to be stronger. I’m starting to feel better already.
I head into the office to find out today is in fact my last day. I thought it was Friday but as a farewell gift, Vivian, Simon and the others have put in a bought me tickets to some of the must-see New York landmarks. I’ve visited a few with Lincoln but there were some we never got around to. By the end of the day, six bouquets of flowers have been delivered, but as it’s also Vivian’s birthday on the weekend, I tell her she can keep them all. Why would you buy flowers for someone who is catching a plane the next day? It’s not like I can take them with me.
After a lovely catered lunch, I settle in for the afternoon. I’m yet to pack up my desk, but I really only have some photos that I’ll be taking with me.
Just before four p.m, I see him: the man who has devastated me, but whom I can’t hate. Lincoln walks to his office with purpose, keeping his head down. He doesn’t even glance in my direction. I wince when his door slams shut. Vivian just shakes her head and sighs, continuing with her work.
I decide to go around the office and say goodbye to everyone personally. By the time I’m done, it’s five p.m. I collect my things from my desk but I hesitate. This isn’t fair. I did nothing wrong to him; I don’t deserve to be treated like I don’t exist. He loved me fiercely only two weeks ago.
I take a deep breath and walk on shaky legs to Lincoln’s office. I knock and wait for a response. My heart is beating so hard I can hear it in my ears, but it’s comforting. It reminds me that she’s still there, still going.
"Yes." I open the door and step in. Lincoln looks up at me expectantly. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to throw a hissy fit and cuss at him out for hurting me, but I remain calm. He looks tired. His tie is hanging loose and his hair is a mess. He hasn’t shaved in a few days.
"Hi." My shaky voice betrays my confident demeanor.
"Harbour, I really don’t think we should talk right now. I’m sorry." He places his elbows on the table and rests his tired head in his hands.
"Well, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to talk; you can just listen. No matter how broken I feel and how much I want to hate you, I can’t. I’m not going to lie and tell you I don’t love you anymore. That will take a little longer to get over, but that’s your fault. It’s not a bad thing. You’re an amazing man, Lincoln. I know you’re hurting too, but you made the right choice. I really do hope you and Rachael learn to love each other again so you can give your son a happy home." I look at him with unshed tears in my eyes, his head still clutched in his hands. "You’re going to be an amazing dad, Lincoln. In all honesty, I’m jealous of Rachael. I wish I was the one giving you a child, but that wasn’t the plan for us so we just have to deal with it and move on." I stop and clear my throat. "I’m off tomorrow, so I just wanted to say goodbye. Good luck with everything, Lincoln."
I turn to walk out because I can see the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions when they do. Before I walk out I say one last thing. "By the way, you probably haven’t been back to the apartment, but the engagement ring is on the vanity in the bathroom, just in case you’re looking for it."
I walk out of his office, collect my things, and walk out of his life. My fairytale beginning had a nightmare ending, but I’ll get through it. I always do.
Pierce lets out a low whistle. "Wow, I thought my parents had a big house. In the toy world, this is Barbie’s rocking mansion, and my parents’ house is Polly Pocket’s one-bedder."
I laugh at him because he’s wrong. His parents�
� home is an eight-bedroom, ten-bathroom monster mansion. I got lost in there for more than an hour one time.
I step out of the car Mitch sent for us and thank the driver.
Dianne lets us in and we say hello to everyone, but there seems to be an elephant in the room.
"Guys, what’s going on? And don’t tell me you’re sad I’m leaving. I know it’s something else."
I look around at the worried faces and then to Pierce who just shrugs his shoulders. "Someone care to share?"
They all look at each other, and Dianne clears her throat. "We don’t want to ruin your last night in New York, Harbour. Let’s just have a drink and something to eat . . ."
"Lincoln and Rachael are engaged."
"Jacqueline!"
"She had to know, Mom. It’s bullshit."
"Yes, Jackie, but maybe a subtle approach would’ve been more fitting for such big news."
I can hear them but I’m no longer listening to what they're saying. I feel my face redden; not from anger, but from embarrassment. Then my stomach recoils and I run for the nearest toilet to throw up everything I've consumed today. I feel Pierce behind me, holding my hair. I push him away.
"I just need to be alone for a minute. Please."
He leaves the bathroom and I cave in to my emotions and cry. Silent sobbing is all I’ll allow myself, because I’m sick of people feeling sorry for me. After five minutes, I wash my face and head back out.
"Let’s not talk about Lincoln and Rachael tonight. Please. I want to enjoy my last night here with you all."
Thankfully, they listen, and the rest of the night is spent celebrating our friendship and planning my visit back for New Year’s Eve. As Mitch points out, the jet and hotels are already organized and paid for so my family, my friends and I might as well come back and enjoy a free holiday.
At one a.m, Pierce and I prepare to leave. Dianne has organized for a few gifts for my family, which have already been loaded onto the jet. Apparently there may or may not be a pair of shoes for me. It’s the only thing that excites me about getting on that plane.
We cry, promise to call and then say farewell. It’s the second hardest goodbye of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lincoln
As Harbour leaves my office, I can't watch her walk away. I'm such an asshole. She just told me how she felt, that she still loves me, and I sat here like a fucking mute. What could I say to her? Tell her she's wrong? That I'm not the great man she thinks I am? Ask her if she's already moved on? When I sent flowers to Harbour’s hotel suite the other day, my driver told me she answered the door in nothing but a T-shirt with some half-naked Latino guy. That night I punched the bag in the gym until I collapsed from exhaustion. I don't want to think the worst but her "mate" from Australia is here rescuing her from me, and now this fucking guy is in her hotel room in the morning half-dressed, and it's hard not to.
Fuck! This is all messing with my head! And Rachael has me by the balls. From the day she told me about the baby, I had strong doubts, but a DNA test this late in the pregnancy is dangerous. I couldn't ask her to risk her baby's life so I could prove my point.
I tried. I tried so fucking hard to work out an alternative but she wouldn't have it. "It's Harbour or your baby. You decide." Bitch. She's even more wicked now than she was when we were together. I shouldn't have let her put threaten me, but let's face it: if the baby is mine, I want to be there when he's born. I don't want to miss out on the moment he takes his first breath. I want to hold him, and name him.
Another problem. Without a ring on her finger, she refused to give our son my last name or let me be present at the birth. I felt sick putting that diamond back on her finger, especially knowing Harbour had just removed hers.
I returned to the apartment on Wednesday. The housekeeper had called and asked if I needed her at the moment, seeing as no one was staying there. I ran through the rooms and my heart sank when I opened the closet and most of her things were gone. She left the shoes I bought her, which tore me up inside, but not as much as seeing her engagement ring in the bathroom. I held the ring and cried like a baby on the cold tiled floor. I don't cry. Not normally.
But this past fortnight, I'd lost the one woman I ever loved because of a fucking broken condom. I've never had regrets, but suddenly my life was filling with them.
My phone ringing interrupts my train of thought.
"Yes, Rachael."
"Where are you? I swear if you're with her, Lincoln, you will have nothing to do with this baby." She's squealing. I don't know if it's the pregnancy, but she constantly sounds whiny.
"I'm heading back now. I had some business to attend to. Is there something you need?" I sigh and lean back in my chair. This is the life I signed up for.
"I'm your heavily pregnant fiancée and I want you to come home. You said you'd stay away from
the office until after he was born. Get. Home. Now!" She hangs up and I throw my phone across the room. Hopefully it didn't break this time; that would be the third one this week.
As I exit my office, I see the main area is littered with bouquets of flowers. I check them but there are no cards. Must be someone's birthday.
"Have you been with her?" I don't even have time to close the door behind me before the interrogation begins.
"No, Rachael, I haven't." I feel shit for lying, but she doesn't need to know about a two-minute conversation in which I said four words.
"I swear to God, Lincoln, if I find out you're with her behind my back, I'll . . ."
"You'll what? Take my son away from me? Good luck with that. I'm here. I've done everything you asked, now either trust me or don't. Honestly, Rachael, I’m getting sick of the threats."
I drop my jacket on the sofa and head to the bathroom for a shower. At least I know she won't follow me. Since I moved back in, we haven't had any physical contact, other than me touching her stomach during a photo shoot. Our separate sleeping arrangements were a joint decision also. I'm relieved that we’re on the same page when it comes to that.
I exit from the shower and put on some gym clothes. This is my routine now: work from home in my study, exercise, eat, sleep, repeat. Mundane, just the way my fiancée likes it. If I'm home, she knows I'm not with Harbour. The fact that she's not home all day makes me feel like a pet, though. Apparently, shopping for baby products is an all-day thing. I offered to help, but her mother and girlfriends are with her, and I can't stand any of them.
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge when I hear a voice that makes my skin crawl.
"Hello Lincoln. Aren't you joining us for dinner?"
I'd rather eat dirt.
"No thank you, Mrs. Deveraux, I'll eat when I get back." Every fucking night her mom and step-dad are here. Every night. It wouldn't be so bad if they weren't uppity socialites who liked to gossip about everyone in New York.
"Don't be silly, you don't need to work out. Come and eat."
I sit there for an hour listening to Rachael's stepfather, Wayne, tell me about his next big money-making scheme. This guy is the worst businessman in New York. Fourteen failed businesses, and counting. Lucky for him, he's aged well, and these women are won over easily by charm and false hope. His last three wives funded four disasters each. Rachael's mom, April, is up to two. He's hoping I'll be a sucker also.
"That's enough business talk. I think you two need to set a date. We can't obviously have it before the birth, but I was thinking New Year's Eve would be . . ."
"No!" I yell the word. "No setting dates until a DNA-test confirms that the baby is mine. And either way, it won't be happening on New Year's Eve." That date will not be ruined by this sham of a relationship.
"Lincoln, you don't have to be rude. Ignore him, Mother. That's the date he had set with his Aussie fling."
"She was not a fling. Don't you dare disrespect her. If the shoe was on the other foot you wouldn't have been so kind as to walk away." I'm angry now.
"No, you're right. I would've fou
ght for you." Low blow.
"There's a difference between being classy and being a bitch, Rachael. And I didn't see you 'fighting for me' when you had Gabriel's dick inside you for the last six months of our relationship."
I leave the room and their stunned faces, grab my water and head to the gym. I need to release my pent-up anger, because living with Rachael was hard the first time; living with her now, knowing what I've given up for her, is torture.
****
Rachael hasn't spoken to me since my outburst at dinner. Usually I'd apologize, but I just don't have it in me.
"I'm heading into the office for the day. I have back-to-back meetings. Call me if it's urgent." She just rolls her eyes and continues reading her magazine. The silent treatment. I like it.
As I enter the office I notice the new girl at Harbour’s desk. She jumps up a little too enthusiastically to greet me.
"Good morning, Mr. Whitmore. Would you like a coffee?"
"Um, no thank you." I look around. Still no Harbour.
"Vivian said I can sit in for the morning rundown, so let me know when you're ready."
No.
"Thank you but I'd prefer to have Ms. Manning present, as I haven't been in for two weeks and she usually takes care of my schedule. Send them into my office in five minutes please." I turn to walk away when I hear her utter the words I never wanted to hear.
"Harbour, sir? She’s gone. She no longer works here. I'm your new assistant."
"VIVIAN!" I yell her name like a mad man. I know she's around.
"Calm down, Lincoln, I'm right here." She appears from the copy room.
"In my office, now." What the fuck have I missed? The new girl tries to follow Vivian in.
"Not you. Close the door." I snarl at Harbour’s replacement.
"Right. You need to calm down, right now. I won't let you speak to any employees like that. What's gotten into you?" Vivian is acting like a mom and asking questions but right now, I need answers.
Harbour (Runaway Home #1) Page 21