Damaged (Crystal Brook Billionaires)

by Blake, Jessica

  Claire narrowed her eyes even farther. “What did you do?” she asked. “Did you tell him he had to leave?”

  “No,” I hissed. “And maybe he wanted to leave! God. Are you on my side at all? Whatever happened to family first?”

  “You are my family,” she answered, setting her stack of plates down so she could open the dishwasher. “And that’s why it’s my job to let you know when you’re acting like a crazy person.”

  My blood went from simmer to boil. “You’re the nasty bitch,” I said, not even trying to be funny. “You should wear this shirt.

  She laughed. “Excuse me?”

  I pursed my lips together and took in a sharp breath, trying to calm myself down. Tears were close, and God help me if I let them fall. “I’m just trying to make it through, okay? How many times do I have to tell you and Mom and Dad? I just want to be alone.”

  She slammed her hand down on the counter, making me jump. “Really, Gwen? Really? You want to be alone for the rest of your life? Huh? Does that sound like fun to you?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  She shook her head. “You’re holding so much back. You’re lying to yourself. If you want my opinion, you don’t even know what you’re feeling. You push your emotions away.”

  “Well, I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I spat at her. “So you can just shut up for once, okay?”

  Her eyes went big, and I saw a fierce glint in them I’d never seen before. Grabbing a plate, she slammed it down in the dish rack, nearly breaking the porcelain. “Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. See if I care.”

  The front door opened, interrupting our fight. I froze, feeling like a deer in headlights — a deer with a stack of plates in her hand.

  It was now or never. Quickly, I set the plates on the counter. “Be right back,” I said, having no intentions of doing just that.

  “Gwen,” she called after me. “Gwen!”

  I ran out of the kitchen, booking it for the staircase. I was going to lock myself in the bedroom and fake a stomachache. Or maybe a headache. Wait, no. Both. I would fake both.

  The hallway was empty. I sped up, halfway to freedom.

  “Gwen,” came Jason’s voice.

  Halfway up the stairs, I stopped. My hand was on the banister and my back to the front door. It was reminiscent of when I’d stood in the same spot listening to him proposition me. Ironic. I wasn’t interested in his games this time either.

  I started climbing again, deciding to make a statement by not even acknowledging his presence.

  “Gwen,” he said, a little louder. “Please wait. I want to talk to you.”

  “Too late,” I said, not bothering to turn my head.

  I half expected him to yell something else after me, like “All the flights are canceled” or “You’re a bitch, you know,” but he didn’t say anything else.

  Alone in mine and Claire’s old bedroom, I closed the door, turned, and pressed all my weight against it, as if I was barring myself from the zombie apocalypse.

  He didn’t have to stay at my parents’ just because no flights were going out. Crystal Brook may not be a metropolis, but we had hotels. There was really no excuse. Hell, with the money Claire claimed Jason made, if he didn’t like the hotel experience, he could just buy one and have it remodeled to meet his every whim. They’d probably have the whole place made over for him in one day, Christmas Eve or not.

  I blew out a breath and stomped over to Claire’s suitcase. No more of this. I was going to work early. Flipping the bag open, I found a tan button-up, which was much better than the Nasty Bitch shirt — although it might have been worth it to see the faces of my regulars.

  Once dressed, I went to open the door but paused. I had my purse and coat in the room with me. Why bother going downstairs and risk running into Jason?

  It was crazy and immature, I knew, but slipping out the window felt like my only real choice. Once I got in the car, I would send a text to my mom to tell her I left for work early. The trellis had broken the other day, of course, but I could still hang off the gutter and drop and roll… right?

  When I opened the window, all plans went right out it. It was snowing hard. The entire back yard was completely covered in a white blanket, and through the back hedges, I could see the next street in between the neighbors’ houses. The road hadn’t been plowed, and it was hard to even tell exactly where it began and ended.

  “Shit,” I whispered, pulling the window closed and then rooting through my purse for my cell phone.

  Kieran answered the shop phone after a few rings. “This is Freddy’s.”

  “It’s Gwen. What’s business like there?”

  “Pretty slow. We haven’t had a customer for about an hour. It looks like the snow is keeping everyone out of downtown.”

  I sat down on the window seat. “That’s what I was afraid of. Do you know if anything else is still open?”

  “I heard O’Toole’s Hardware is staying open, but most of the restaurants are closing.”

  “Okay. Go ahead and close down. Will you be able to drive home safely?”

  “My boyfriend has four-wheel drive. He can come get me. Hey, do you have a sled? A delivery truck just dropped off a ton at O’Toole’s, and they’re selling out. I’ll pick you up one if you want.”

  I frowned at my phone. “Thanks, but I don’t know if I’m up for a broken neck.”

  “Are you sure? This storm is crazy.”

  I looked back out the window, at the snow that was ruining my life. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks. Call me back if you need anything.”

  “I will. Hey, Merry early Christmas!”

  I smiled wryly, trying to keep my head above the bad mood I was sinking into. “Same to you. Bye, Kieran.”

  I hung up the phone and stared out the window at the winter wonderland. Snowed in… with the one man I wanted most in the world but couldn’t have.

  I could always walk home. It wasn’t that far.

  Biting my lip, I shook my head. No. It was Christmas, for Christ’s sake, as Claire would say. My parents would never forgive me if I deserted the family, and rightfully so.

  So I had two options. I could either play sick or suck it up and goes downstairs. The first choice seemed like even less of a great one than the second. Claire and my grandparents would be leaving in a few days, and who knew when I would get to see them again.

  Sucking in a breath, I braced myself and went downstairs.

  Everyone was gathered in the living room, the big stack of board games from the hall closet sitting on the coffee table.

  “What’s up, guys?” I asked, aware that my voice sounded as stiff as Pinocchio’s dick. I hovered in the doorway, feeling like a stranger in the house I’d grown up in.

  Mom looked over from where she was busy adjusting an ornament on the tree. As hard as I’d tried not to clock his whereabouts, I couldn’t help but note Jason was sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, only a couple feet away from her.

  “Oh, Gwen,” Mom said. “What’s happening with Freddy’s?”

  “I called Kieran and told her to go ahead and close up. There aren’t a lot of people downtown anyway.”

  Mom practically sparkled — sparkled like a freaking fairy dressed up to go to a Katy Perry concert. “Great! You don’t need to be working on Christmas Eve anyway.”

  “We were going to play some board games,” Grandpa said from the easy chair. “Come have a seat.”

  Dad stood up. “Who’s helping me get the ham ready?”

  “Danny,” Mom volunteered for my brother.

  Danny and my dad brushed past me, heading for the kitchen, and I took a little step towards the center of the room. Grandma was settled on the couch, but Claire sat on the floor next to Jason. The two of them looked up at me expectantly, and I suddenly felt so incredibly exposed.

  I went to walk behind Claire, but she quickly scooted to the side, putting herself between the coffee table and the tree, leaving the only available spot the one next
to Jason. Unless, of course, I wanted to walk all the way back around the coffee table, making it obvious I didn’t want to sit next to him.

  I tucked my hair behind my ears and sat down. From the corner of my eye, Jason’s back got straighter. I kept my shoulders turned away from him, though, as I reached for the stack of board games. “What are we playing?”

  “Cards against Humanity,” Claire suggested.

  “I don’t really like that,” I lied, the truth being I didn’t want to play such a risqué game with Jason. Also, our grandparents were sitting just a few feet away.

  “How about Scrabble?” Jason asked.

  Claire snatched the box. “Scrabble it is!”

  She unfolded the board, taking charge of the game.

  “Don’t they look nice together?” Grandpa said.

  “Who?” Grandma asked.

  He nodded down at the floor. “Jason and Gwen. Now, there’s a pair.”

  Lightning traveled through my body at his words. Desperately I looked up at my mom, trying to silently implore her to do something. I loved my grandfather, but really, sometimes he could be a bit much.

  Mom caught my eyes, then looked at Grandpa and loudly cleared her throat. “Dad, do you want anything to drink? Some coffee and Bailey’s?”

  I nearly groaned. The last thing Grandpa needed was some alcohol to help him drop his inhibitions even further, but clearly he didn’t feel that way. He smiled over at Mom. “That sounds lovely, honey.”

  She picked up the remote and turned the television on. “And here. I bet there are some great movies on tonight.”

  “See if there’s White Christmas,” Grandma said.

  “No, no,” Grandpa argued. “I like It’s a Wonderful Life.”

  Setting up the Scrabble pieces, Claire snickered so low only I could hear her.

  I reached for my letters, my shoulder brushing against Jason’s as I did so. A little tremor went through my body, and I thought about Grandpa’s comment about the two of us looking good together.

  Damn it all.

  Scrabble helped me forget, at least a little bit, as weird as that is. I have a lot of pride attached to my vocabulary skills, so stretching those muscles helped provide a bit of distraction from the hunk of man sitting next to me.

  “I got Jesus!” Claire announced.

  I laughed. “It’s a good time to have him in your heart. That’s definitely a sign.”

  She waggled her eyebrows. “Yeah, but for what?”

  Jason spoke up. “The Scrabble spirits are trying to let us know it’s Christmas.”

  “Definitely,” I agreed.

  Grandpa turned the volume on the TV up, sending the actors’ voices from some black and white movie through the roof. Jason took his turn, completing a word near the top right of the board.

  “Phosphenes,” I slowly read, then looked at him. “Is that really a word?”

  “Doesn’t it sound like one?”

  I pursed my lips. “Just because it sounds like one…”

  He laughed. “It’s a real word. It’s a name for the stars and colors you see when you rub your eyes.”

  On my other side, Claire set down her phone. “He’s right. I looked it up.” She laughed. “Looks like you’ve met your Scrabble match, Gwen.” She looked at Jason. “You’re probably the first person she’s met that knows a word she doesn’t.”

  Jason grinned at me, making my stomach flip. At the same time, a nauseous feeling started to rise up into my chest. Was he going back to flirting with me after everything that happened?

  Surely, I was imagining it.

  I stood up. “I’m going to go see if they need any help in the kitchen.”

  “We’re in the middle of a game,” Claire protested.

  “My legs are cramped. Ask Mom to play.”

  Claire grumbled something as I walked into the hall, but I couldn’t hear the exact words over the deafening television.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jason

  Claire propped her elbow on the table and messed with her hair. With Gwen’s exit, her spirits seemed to plummet. I played absentmindedly with a Scrabble letter and looked at her, trying to send the message that I was ready to listen if she had anything to say.

  Not that she would share her deepest feelings with me. As far as I was concerned, she had begun to feel like more than an employee days ago. But that was easy for me to say. To Claire, I was likely still her asshole boss first and foremost.

  She glanced over at me. “Sorry.”

  “For Gwen?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Claire, you don’t have to apologize for her.”

  She shrugged.

  “Plus,” I continued. “There could be other things going on with her, things you don’t know about.”

  I was trying to be suggestive enough to get some sort of reaction I could read into. I was intensely curious about just how much Claire knew about Gwen and me. But the real reason was bigger than that. In winning Gwen over, the other Lawrence sister was likely to be my biggest ally.

  First, I had to get her on my side.

  Claire dropped her arm into her lap and stared at me. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Anything could be.”

  She scoffed. “Okay, then.” She glanced over my shoulder, at her grandparents who were still involved in the television. Scooting a few inches closer to me, she ducked her head and whispered. “I don’t want to be nosy, but is there something you’d like to tell me?”

  I bit my bottom lip. Here went nothing. “I’ve fallen for Gwen.”

  Her eyes went wide, and she just stared at me.

  “Well?” I prompted. “Are you going to say anything?”

  “That could mean so many things,” she said quickly. “Or, what I really mean is, there are so many different degrees of falling.” She twisted her hands in her lap and gazed off at the wall for a second before looking back at me. “So what level of falling are you talking about here?”

  My heart hammered. “Uh, well…”

  “Are you blushing?”

  “No,” I nearly shouted, feeling my face warm up more.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “You’re really into her. Does she know?”

  “Um, well…”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Things have already gotten pretty complicated. I don’t know if she’ll ever believe that I truly care for her.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed.

  “So you know?” I asked. “About what happened?”

  She eyed me. “It’s kind of against girl code to tell you everything I know.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “Fair enough. I guess.”

  I wanted to ask Claire to talk to her, but maybe that was too much for me to expect. A favor like that wasn’t something she could just grant to anyone, least of all her hard edged boss.

  “What do I do?” I asked instead. “To win her over?”

  Claire laughed. “Win Gwen over? Now there’s a big question.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know. She’s got a hard shell around her. Once a person’s done her wrong, she kind of locks them out.”

  I exhaled. “Damn it.”

  She eyed me. “So I guess you’ve already done her wrong, huh?”

  “I kind of changed my mind once or twice.”

  Claire lowered her voice even further. “Let me ask you this, if you don’t mind. What do you want from her exactly?”

  I took a breath and braced myself. Revealing my true feelings could be like torture, but I had to do it if I had any chance of really snagging Gwen. “I think I’m falling in love with her.”

  In a split second, Claire’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. She clapped her hands over her open mouth. “Shut up,” she hissed. “Are you being serious right now?”

  I cringed, still uncomfortable about letting the ball drop.

  “I’m sorry,” she quickly said. “I didn’t mean shut up in a mean way.”

 
“It’s all right,” I laughed softly. “I know you didn’t.”

  “Wow,” she whispered. “You guys only just met.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “So you think it’s crazy?”

  She giggled. “No. I think it’s romantic. I think people can fall in love after only a few days. I mean, true love is that deep. When you meet a person you connect with, you just know. Right?”

  I thought about it. I definitely hadn’t “just known” the first night I met Gwen. Then again, maybe a part of me did know. Maybe I had ignored that side of myself; pushed it down into a dark crevice it couldn’t escape from. Admittedly, I’d been working so hard the last year to not feel much of anything. Whenever I turned to introspection, I tended to unearth a whole lot of pain. From my parents’ rejection to the rejection of my ex-wife. It only made sense that I’d become so accustomed to blocking my emotions I often didn’t even know what was going on inside of me.

  “So what do I do?” I asked her.

  “Good question.” She threw her hands up. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

  “What? You’re her sister.”

  “Yeah but I’m not the love doctor.”

  “Well, aren’t you two best friends? You probably know her better than anyone else.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, but like I said, it’s tricky with Gwen. Once she’s been hurt by someone—”

  “Yeah, I think I get it. She shuts them out. It makes sense too.”

  “Talk to her!” Grandpa Lawrence said, making both me and Claire jump.

  I turned around to see the older man staring at us, his legs stretched out on the footrest in front of him.

  “Gr-Grandpa,” Claire stuttered. “Did you just hear our whole conversation?”

  He nodded real slow. “Just got new hearing aids.”

  “Then why is the TV so loud?”

  “I like it that way,” he snapped at her. “Surround sound.”

  Grandma Lawrence spoke up. “Jason, if you want to win Gwen’s heart, you have to do something big to prove how much you love her.”

  “Yeah,” Claire excitedly agreed, moving to sit up on her shins. “Grandma is right. Words aren’t enough. Actions speak louder than anything you could ever say.”

  “Take her for a milkshake,” Grandpa said.