Damaged (Crystal Brook Billionaires)

by Blake, Jessica

  But no. He had to go and flash that damn dimple, look at me with those eyes. Anything I want? The bastard.

  I couldn’t do men. I didn’t do men… and I hated anyone who tried to make me.

  Pushing the chardonnay bottle to the side, I found the Riesling Dad always got Mom, but which hardly ever ended up getting drunk. Not being much into alcohol, she would usually only get to have a couple glasses before the bottle became undrinkable. Surely it wouldn’t be missed. Pulling it out, I snatched the wine opener from its spot next to the fruit bowl and hurried into the hall.

  Claire headed up the stairs as soon as she saw me coming, and I followed her all the way down the long hall to our old bedroom.

  It was the biggest room in the house, with a sloped ceiling and a cushioned seat above large double windows. Some of our childhood stuffed animals were still there, as well as the big dollhouse we’d gotten when we were in elementary school, but other than that, Mom had mostly redecorated the room. There were still two beds, but the comforters were new and deep blue, as opposed to the pink and yellow quilts that used to adorn the mattresses. Claire’s suitcase was open on the floor near her old bed, sweaters spilling out of it.

  She went to the end of the bed and grabbed a crocheted blanket.

  “Your boss isn’t staying up here with you?” I jokingly asked. “A little office getaway?”

  She turned her dark eyes on me. “Can it. And don’t think making jokes about me and him will distract me. I know you want to screw him.”

  My mouth opened and closed a few times before I could spit out, “No, I don’t.”

  She pursed her lips and just looked at me, her hand on her cocked hip.

  “What?” I asked.

  “There’s hardly a woman alive who doesn’t want to screw Jason Adler.”

  “So there,” I sharply replied. “You just admitted it. You do want him.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know him too well at this point.”

  “What does that mean? Is he really that awful?”

  “No, he’s not that awful, but he’s my boss, and this isn’t some kinky movie. That would be too weird. Trust me, Gwen. I have no attraction to him. But if you do, that’s fine.”

  “I don’t!” I cried, the sound pathetic to my own ears.

  “Then why are you always looking at him?”

  That shut me up.

  Claire lifted the latch on the windows and we climbed over the seat and onto the side roof. We’d kept our coats on and I burrowed my nose into the collar of mine while we got settled on the grimy tiles. Claire draped the blanket over our legs and I pulled out the wine key. With as much flourish as possible, I uncorked the bottle.

  “Madam,” I said, offering the wine so she could read the label. “Is it to your liking?”

  She grabbed the Riesling and took a big swig. “Quite.”

  She passed the wine over and I took a sip. “I don’t want to screw him.”

  “Whatever, Gwendolyn. Save it.”

  I bit my bottom lip, trying to formulate some sort of comeback.

  “When was the last time you had sex anyway?” she asked.

  “Excuse me, but that’s none of your business.”

  She chuckled and took the wine from me. “All right. Whatever… it’s at least been since New York, right? That would make it somewhere around a year and a half. You know, that’s not normal at our age. Holding all that sexual energy in will make you either sick or crazy.”

  “That’s not true,” I quickly replied, half afraid she was actually right. “Where did you hear that?”

  “I just know. So really. How long has it been?”

  “I just said I’m not telling you.”

  The back porch light spilling from underneath us was just enough for me to see the rising of her eyebrows. “That’s all the answer I need.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “It doesn’t matter. He’s insufferable. Did you see the act he was putting on tonight? With each house he got cheesier and cheesier, cozying up to Mom, singing like they were on Broadway or something. She probably thinks he’s her best friend forever now.”

  “I don’t know. I think he was really enjoying it.” She laughed. “Crystal Brook is like a whole world away from New York real estate. This is a real vacation for him. You should see him the way he is at work.”

  “Yeah, he’s an ass. You told me eight hundred and seventy-four times.

  “Yeah,” she grumbled. “Sometimes.”

  “Is that why you were in a bad mood when I picked you up at the airport?”

  “We were talking about work. That’s why I was irritated. There are a lot of obstacles to opening the new branch in London. It’s been pretty stressful.”

  I looked at her, trying to decide whether or not to believe the story. I still didn’t completely buy that there was nothing going on between her and Jason — how could she not be attracted to him?

  “But he’s more than a sometimes ass,” she said softly.

  “What, he’s also a rich ass? How many condos did you say he owns? Three?”

  “At least. He’s also got a couple vacation houses.”

  “You mean mansions.”

  “Being rich doesn’t make him a jerk.”

  I swallowed hard, afraid to hear the answer to what I suspected. “Claire. Do you like him?”

  “What? No,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “You already asked me that.”

  “You sound kind of defensive.”

  “I don’t have a crush on him, Gwen. That’s you, remember?”

  I kicked my foot against a loose tile, hating how my sister can practically read my mind. “He’s callous,” I muttered.

  “That doesn’t change chemistry. When it’s there, it’s there.”

  She was right. Very unfortunately, she was right.

  “He has a hard edge to him,” Claire explained. “He needs some kindness.”

  “God, you’re so nice. Doesn’t it ever exhaust you?”

  “It doesn’t cost anything to give love away,” she replied, sounding just like our mother.

  “Why doesn’t he just go spend Christmas with his own family?”

  “Not everyone’s family is as great as ours.”

  I laughed. “Are you trying to suggest we belong on the front of a Hallmark card? Maybe you’re forgetting what it’s like to actually be here every day, because the reality is far from perfect.”

  “Why are you being such a bitch?”

  I clamped my teeth together, wanting to retaliate but also knowing I was being harsh.

  “You live in a cave,” she said. “And the worst part of that is you won’t even let a caveman in to hunt and kill for you. You’re in the cave selling books and making espresso, existing all in your own world.”

  “That’s a weird analogy.”

  “It fits. Don’t try and tell me it doesn’t. And not only because Freddy’s is kind of cave like, with the bricks.”

  “Caves don’t have bricks.”

  She sighed, sounding exasperated. “You know what I mean. It’s dark and narrow.”

  “I put lights in there.”

  “Can we get back to the real conversation?”

  “You haven’t been home in months,” I pointed out, waving the bottle around in one hand. “How do you know what my life is like?”

  She snatched the wine from me and took a drink. “Because I talk to you. And even if you’re not always telling me the full truth, other people are.”

  “Let me guess…”

  “I talk to Mom.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh. I bet you do.”

  “And you can use Freddy’s as an excuse all you want…”

  “I run that place all by myself!”

  “Hire a manager.”

  “It’s too early for that. I’m still getting everything smoothed out. I can’t teach someone else all the ropes when I don’t even have them mastered myself.”

  “Come on. You’re here now, with me. So you
must have at least a bit of time for socializing.”

  I snorted. “Hardly.”

  “How many nights do you sleep on the couch there?”

  I opened my mouth then shut it, ashamed at being called out on that. I had thought crashing at Freddy’s was one of my better kept secrets. I should have known that in a town as small as Crystal Brook, there truly was no such thing as a secret.

  Wrangling the bottle from her, I took a hearty drink of wine. It tickled my throat on the way down, distracting me from the uneasy feelings in my gut.

  Claire spoke quietly, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “Mike is in the past.”

  I cringed. “I know.”

  “You don’t still talk to him, do you?”

  I nibbled at my lip. The last two times I texted him, he didn’t reply so, no, I did not still talk to him.

  “He wasn’t the one for you,” Claire continued. “Which means he was just another guy.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  I waited for her to argue that she too had been through breakups. Instead, she just wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “Yeah, it is.”

  “Wait. Really?”

  “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever been into anyone the way you were into him.”

  “God,” I groaned, face palming myself. “That just makes me feel worse.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” The wine was starting to hit me, making my limbs feel heavy and relaxed.

  “But if it wasn’t working for one of you, it wouldn’t work out in the end for anyone. You get what I’m saying?”

  “Yes,” I murmured. “Of course.”

  “You’ll find someone else.”

  “Jason is trying to hook up with me.”

  She laughed, throwing her head back. Her shoulders shook and she covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Why is that so funny?” I asked. “You don’t believe me?”

  Her laughter died away. “Oh, I believe you. It’s just great to know I was spot on. I didn’t think the lust train was only traveling in one direction.”

  “Hm. Do you think I can get a refund on my ticket? I was under the assumption I was getting on an entirely different train altogether.”

  She hugged me again. “I can’t tell you whether it’s a good idea or not to take him up on any offers. I only really know him as a boss.”

  My hand turned into a stop sign. “I won’t be taking him up on anything.”

  She looked disappointed. “Well, then that settles it, I guess.”

  “Yeah.” I looked down at my lap. The whole situation felt anything but settled.

  “Okay, I’m going to tell you something, but just know it’s kind of a secret.”

  I whipped my face towards hers. My eyes had adjusted enough that I could finally make out her features. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s about Jason.”

  My heart did a little flip. Damn heart.

  “I thought you only knew him from a work standpoint.”

  “I do, but… I know a few things about his personal life. You know, things that anyone who knows him knows.”

  “Like what?”

  “He just went through a divorce,” she continued. “Well, he’s kind of still going through it. He’s dealing with a lot of the legal stuff. From what I understand, it was a huge surprise for him.”

  I slowly shook my head. “Why is that a secret?”

  She sighed. “He just doesn’t like to talk about it. It’s pretty much a taboo topic around the office. I think he loved her a lot.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “He’s sensitive.”

  I snorted. “He doesn’t act like he is.”

  “That’s because he’s putting on an act. A lot of sensitive people do that so that no one finds out what’s really going on with them.”

  “Are you trying to get me to hook up with him? Because it really seems like—”

  “I just told you I don’t even know if that would be a good idea.”

  “Hm.” I crossed my arms, not convinced she was telling the truth. “Have you heard anything else about him?”

  “Like him and women? No. He keeps his personal life to himself as much as he can. This wine is good.”

  I took the bottle and shook it. Somehow we’d already drank two thirds of it. “So are you getting any action back in the city?”

  She laughed. “You know I haven’t for a couple months. That’s why I have to live vicariously through you.”

  “Trust me. You don’t want my life.”

  She sighed. “Gwen, your life could be so great.”

  Irritation pricked across my neck like little needle points. “Can we stop talking about me?”

  “Fine. What should we talk about?”

  “What did you get me for Christmas?”

  “A new fire poker.”

  “What?” I laughed, spewing wine across the blanket. “Was that supposed to be funny?”

  She shrugged. “I’m a little tipsy. We just drank a lot of wine in, like, ten minutes.”

  “True ‘dat.” I tilted my head back and took another swallow. Kieran was opening Freddy’s in the morning, which meant I didn’t have to be there to help with the morning rush till seven. In the coffee shop world that was considered sleeping in.

  “Remember when we used to sneak out in high school?” she asked.

  “Why would I ever forget?”

  She giggled. “Best times of my life.”

  I lifted my hand for a high five and she smacked her palm against mine.

  “We used to climb down the trellis,” I laughed. “Remember that time you got your belt caught on it, and then the porch light came on?”

  She laughed. “Yes! Oh my God, and then Dad came to the back door!”

  “He was like, ‘Who’s there?’” I laughed harder, stumbling over not only my words but my bad impersonation of our father.

  “He totally thought someone was breaking in! What happened next? I can’t even remember…”

  “I grabbed you and pulled you up. Your pants ripped, but he never saw us. He probably thought it was a raccoon or something. And all that so we could sneak over to David Browning’s house and play pool in the basement. Ugh. He was so weird.”

  “Yeah, but his cousin wasn’t, remember? That was the night of my first kiss.”

  “That’s right,” I laughed. “So then it was all worth it.”

  We tried to high five again, but Claire missed my hand. Giggling, I finished off the wine.

  “The trellis is still there,” she said.

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Let’s climb down it.”

  “Why?”

  She threw the blanket off her legs and got up. “Just for old times’ sake.”

  “Be careful. It might not hold.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “What exactly are you saying, Gwen Lawrence?”

  I snorted. “Not what you think. You’re kind of tipsy. So really, be careful.”

  “I will.”

  She ambled over to the side of the roof. I held my breath, watching her crouch down. The trellis reached up to several feet under the gutters, and it wasn’t the sturdiest. In the summer months, it held morning glories. It was a flimsy thing, and the fact that it had been there for almost twenty years was nothing short of a miracle.

  “Be careful,” I repeated as she turned herself around and slid a leg over the edge. “Come to think of it… you haven’t gained any weight, have you?”

  “Screw you.”

  “Hey, I’m just looking out for you,” I joked.

  “Ugh. This is more difficult than I remembered.”

  “Here. Let me go first.” I dropped the empty wine bottle on the blanket and scurried over to where she was. She pulled herself back onto the roof to let me take her place.

  “You have to have confidence,” I explained.

  “Your words are slurring. Maybe you shouldn’t…”

&n
bsp; “I’m fine.” I put a foot down and found the first piece of wood. Holding onto the gutter, I put my other leg down. Gingerly, I made my way down the trellis. The back porch light was still on, but most of the yard was bathed in darkness.

  “Mom will kill you if that breaks.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I responded dryly. “I’ll just blame it on you.”

  “Hey,” she gasped. “You bitch!” We both laughed.

  I moved sloth like, holding my breath and waiting for the trellis to surrender to my weight. It didn’t. Claire whooped when I got halfway down.

  “It’s just like old times!” she cried out. “Now let’s go to the seven eleven and find some boys to make out with!”

  “Shh! We’ll get caught.”

  She laughed and pressed a hand against her mouth. “I’m coming down,” she said between her fingers.

  “Okay, but…”

  I was going to tell her to wait, but the words died before they escaped my lips. Halfway to the ground, I could just see through the window only a few feet to the left of the trellis. It was the bottom floor guest bedroom, and light spilled out of it. A figure moved across the pane, catching my eye. I froze, my hands gripping the peeling wood.

  Jason’s biceps popped as he opened up the wardrobe and pulled a t-shirt out. His back to the window, he pulled the shirt over his head, every muscle on his back stretching while he did so. I blinked, staring. The man was ripped. Seeing him with clothes on, you would never be able to guess just how much so.

  The trellis creaked above my head and I looked up to see Claire descending, her foot only a couple feet away from my head. There was another groaning noise, and I reached up to grab her calf.

  “Wait,” I fiercely whispered. “It can’t hold us both.”

  A loud pop filled the air and I fell, tumbling to the ground and slamming my right shoulder and hip into the grass below. Claire landed right on top of me, shrieking like she was falling down the side of the Grand Canyon.