by TC Matson
My glare is wrathful, my rage so deep I’m shaking. The men exit the room and when the door clicks behind them, I speak. “I demand answers, Nathan,” I grit. “I’m at a fucking loss here and you won’t answer any of my calls. So now I’m here. Talk.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“You’re going to explain what the hell is going on.” I slam my palms on his desk. “This isn’t fair.”
He rises, spreading his hands on his desk. The stoic expression he’s been wearing finally gives way and now he’s mad. Bending, he levels his face to face with me. “You do not come into my place of business and demand anything from me.”
“Had you been man enough to answer your damn phone, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Get out of my office,” he grinds out.
“No,” I spit defiantly. “Not until you give me answers.”
“How much is my private life worth? How much did you get out of it?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“This wouldn’t be the first time Vincent’s done this. I would have never thought you of all people would stoop to his level.”
“I know Vincent from high school and ran into him last night. He showed up at my house drunk and I let him sleep on my couch. I didn’t hide that from you. Had he paid me for whatever it is you won’t tell me about, I sure the hell wouldn’t have let you know he stayed. If I had known you were the stepbrother, I wouldn’t have let him stay. I only pieced that together after you left and I lost my ass on him.”
“Let me guess. I’m the bad guy right?”
“You slept with his girlfriend. That automatically makes you the bad guy.”
“She played us both. I didn’t know she was his girlfriend,” he says.
“That entire situation has nothing to do with me,” I snap tersely. “Explain what the hell is going on now.”
“Vincent has made it a mission to destroy me and Bennett Towers. Paying you to get inside information wouldn’t be the first for him. Normally, I’m better at catching it, but you came in at a different angle. But now it makes sense why you were so interested in what I do and how I conduct business.”
Hurt envelops my rage, braiding the two into a ferocious anguish. I’m so angry, icy chills run through my veins. My spine snaps straight as vexation rides out with my laugh. “Instead of talking to me, you assumed. That’s a dick move, Nathan. Jumping to conclusions…” My voice is deathly low. “I asked questions because I was genuinely interested in the man I was falling for. Your work fascinates me. Little ol’ small town girl who’s never experienced the corporate world. I wanted to learn everything about you. Not for some pathetic sibling rivalry, but because I fucking gave a damn. But now I find out we are on much different levels. As I was falling in love with you, I meant nothing to you.”
His jaw flexes and nostrils flare.
“Yet again, you didn’t trust me. Fuck you, Nathan,” I sneer and then storm out the door.
Patricia eyes me as I pass, but I don’t dare look at her. I slap the down arrow to the elevator and instantly the doors slide open.
“Spoiled asshole,” I mutter, rolling my eyes and stepping in.
TWENTY-NINE
Nathan has tried to call and text me, but it’s my turn to shut him out. I have nothing to say to him. I’m hurt he would even consider that I would stoop to a level so despicable. He led me to believe it was safe to fall in love with him. Instead, I fell into a pit of rattlesnakes.
I trusted him with every cell of my being. And now there’s a hole in my chest filled with livid sadness. Funny how those two go together, but those are my consequences for loving someone who doesn’t love me back. This fiasco only confirms I was just his play toy, something to pass time with, and that fucking hurts.
Aimee has been my saving grace. In fear that either Nathan or Vincent would show up at my home, she agreed to let me stay in her guest bedroom for a little while. She’s given me space, allowing me to grieve for my loss, but pried when she needed to. I’ve gone to work but asked my coworkers to field my calls, and I had a plan if Nathan had shown up—duck and run.
“Hey, girlie,” Aimee sticks her head into the room. “Hungry?”
“Sure. What are you in the mood for?” I ask, trying to sound cheerful.
“Well, Shyla is on the way over with pizza and wine. Although, if I were her, the only musketeer left in a relationship, I’d run. She’s the one with a great fiancé and a kickass relationship. Doesn’t that make her the enemy?”
“Bitch…” I titter.
She sits on the edge of the bed with imploring eyes. “Have you talked to Nathan?”
“I’ve got nothing to say to him. He hasn’t trusted me from the get-go and you know what they say about relationships without trust.” I frown.
“Yours didn’t trust you and I trusted mine too much.” She blows a giggle. “I hate men.”
“I’m beginning to,” I say, reaching for my ringing phone.
Cody…
I’m skeptical at why he’s calling. There’s no reason unless it’s about Nathan.
Aimee holds out her hand. “I’ll handle him.”
She answers begrudgingly and starts in on him almost immediately. Her eyes flick to me when she says, “Let me find out it’s a trick and I’ll kick your ass.”
She hands the phone to me. “Just him. He needs to discuss something with you.”
Reluctantly, I take it huffing.
“Spitfire!” he calls out. “You’ve got a smoking hot bodyguard, just so you know.”
I say nothing.
“Listen, I’ve been dragged into the middle of this so don’t shoot the messenger. Your douche boyfriend—”
“Ex,” I quickly correct him and it hurts.
“Right. The douche has asked me to reach out to you. He had a surprise vacation planned for you next weekend and he’s extending it to you and your friends. He doesn’t need it anymore. It’s already been booked and it’s free of charge. Plus, he’s the owner, not like he’s out any money.”
He had a vacation planned for us? He told me it was a small get-together, not a vacation. Misery cords through my heart and rips it apart all over again allowing anger to fill in the cracks.
“I’m not interested,” I fire off exasperatedly.
“Then let me talk to Aimee. I bet she is. Put me on speaker so I can talk to her. I know she’s there. Aimee! Help me out here!” he shouts into the phone so loudly I have to pull it away from my ear.
Aimee snatches the phone but doesn’t put it on speakerphone. “What, Cody? … Oh really? Where at?” There’s a glint in her eyes, an excitement. “Yeah. I’ll make sure she takes the offer. If not, Shyla and I definitely will…. Thanks!”
As she hands it back to me, I glower. “You’re a traitor.”
She laughs and flips her hair off her shoulder. “You’ll get over it soon. I’m sure.”
Cody cracks up, but when I don’t respond, he sobers up, clearing his throat. “He knows he fucked up again, Brooklyn.” Sincerity is rich in his tone. “He doesn’t think straight or well when his heart is involved, and seeing Vincent at your house threw him for a loop. Don’t think I’m taking his side. I’m not. I agree with you. He didn’t handle it right and caused a train wreck. But he’s come to grips with his choices. Made his bed and all that.”
“Good for him,” I say indignantly, sounding like a true bitch. But I’m hurt and I can’t help my emotions.
“He paid a visit to Vincent too. Don’t worry. I went with him to make sure everything stayed in a safe zone. Last thing we need is our guy in jail. Bad for the reputation, ya know? For the record, Vincent didn’t pull any tricks. He was honest. Crazy, right? Told Nathan after he ran into you at the club he came to your house in hopes for something to help get his ex-girlfriend off his mind, but you were pretty smitten with your boyfriend. I’m quoting that. Who the fuck uses smitten? Anyway, he told Nathan that he let the qualm go years ago. It was a waste of energy.”
“That’s good,” my voice wavers slightly. “Hopefully as he moves forward he can put trust into someone and fall in love. He deserves happiness.”
“I agree. So do I tell him you and your friends will take the trip?”
“I’ll get back with you in a few hours,” I say.
“Sure,” he says and hangs up.
I throw myself back on the bed. All I want to do is heal, get over Nathan, hate him! But everywhere I turn, he makes sure I can’t. It’s not fair.
* * *
Shyla’s here when I finally come out into the living room. I needed to get my cry out, get rid of the pain, even if it was for five minutes.
“So. Are we taking the beach trip?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
Aimee springs to her feet, ready to present her case. “You listen here.” She jams a finger my way. “We are recently single. I haven’t been laid in months. We need to mend our hearts and what better way than seeing some hotties with some bodies. You’re going on this trip because beach therapy is the best thing for a broken heart. Sand between our toes. Drinks in our hands. And hot guys for us since Shyla is a bitch with a fiancé.”
Shyla giggles. “I need to make sure with Brady that he doesn’t care if I go. I don’t think he would, but because of the two of you, I’ve been gone a lot. I don’t want to ride the single life boat with you two.”
Aimee sucks in a breath, spinning toward her. “I’ll have you know our boat is awesome.” She flings back to me. “You text Cody and tell him we’re going. You need this too, Brooklyn.”
Beach. Peace. Quiet. Away from reality. It all sounds really good. Except for one minor detail. “I don’t want to stay in a hotel that will constantly remind me of him.”
Shyla’s lips turn down apologetically.
“We will stay busy. If I can stay in the same house William and I made a home, you can do a resort that you’ll make memories in with us. It’s a vacation we all need. Shyla because she’s been dealing with us. Me because my ex-boyfriend is a whore. And you because you need to get your mind off an asshole.”
She’s right.
Me: We’ll go. Send all the information so we can be prepared.
Cody: Will do.
Me: Why is he doing this?
Cody: Presumably his way of apologizing and letting go. You’d have to ask him.
Yeah. That’s not happening. I’ll just go with Cody’s reasoning because the last thing I need or want to do is talk to the man who accused me of being paid off.
Screw that.
THIRTY
Our oceanfront hotel is beautiful and right on the boardwalk. Cody said Nathan changed the room from the penthouse to a two-bedroom executive suite on the nineteenth floor and I’m glad he did. Although the beauty of the place reminds me of him, I think being in a penthouse would devastate me more than I already am. There are two rooms, both with king-sized beds—that evoke memories of being in Nathan’s arms—and a balcony that overlooks the shore.
Knowing that the design, both interior and exterior, had to be approved by him…this is a lot to try and look past. Everything has Nathan’s touch, and then there’s the floor-to-ceiling windows that remind me of his home.
“I don’t know what I want to do first,” Aimee says coming in behind me as I stare blankly at the bed. “Beach, shop, bath, pool. The options are endless and our days are numbered,” she whines throwing herself backward on the bed. “This place is beautiful.”
I blink. “Yeah,” I whisper.
“You okay?” Shyla asks, stepping up beside me.
“Yep!” I fake my cheerfulness and set my bag on the tan chaise lounger. “We should grab something to eat.”
Shyla eyes me skeptically, but lets it go as she sits on the edge of the bed. Shyla gave us the rooms and took the couch because, honestly, the couch looks enticing too.
“Yes! That’s a grand idea,” Aimee says, springing up. “That bagel I ate before getting on the plane has worn off. I’m starving.”
“I say we find a pub. Nothing fancy. Drink and eat, and then walk on the beach,” Shyla suggests.
And that’s exactly what we do. About two blocks away is a little hamburger joint that has an open patio looking over the beach. We watch people enjoying their day as we sit in the shade, drinking our margaritas and enjoying our food.
* * *
We stayed on the beach with our toes in the sand for a few hours before moving to the pool. Today has been relaxing. Aimee was completely right—don’t tell her that. Once we got out and about, thinking of Nathan came less and less until we made it back to the hotel and I was left to drown in my thoughts again.
Not ready to shower yet, I change, grab my e-reader, and make myself comfortable outside on the balcony in the silence. Except I can’t concentrate.
Me: Thank you.
Two simple words hold so many different emotions attached to them. Heartache, happiness, appreciation, and sorrow. Our chemistry was intense, our flame bright. I would say our future could’ve held something great, but I can’t. He never trusted me.
Nathan: You’re welcome. I hope you girls enjoy.
Warm tears begin stinging my eyes. Accepting we’re over, even when I called it done, has been difficult. Love freaking sucks.
Nathan: Make sure you go to Newman’s. They have the best food around. And just down the street is a chocolate factory.
Me: I see Shyla buying out a chocolate factory in my near future.
He doesn’t respond immediately. With this trip I’ve slipped into a relapse, wishing everything was different although I know nothing could be the same. This trip. This hotel. It’s all him.
Nathan: I’m sorry for the way things turned out.
Me: Yeah. Me too.
Nathan: Have a good weekend, Brooklyn.
Wiping away the tears that have slipped down my cheek, I don’t respond and tuck my phone under my leg.
Yeah. Love definitely sucks.
THIRTY-ONE
Turns out, Aimee is just as excited about the chocolate factory as Shyla. Who knew? When I told them about it, they immediately looked it up online and found out they give tours. Of course, we’re booked on one because it’s chocolate and who the hell can deny the power of it?
“We’re going to be late,” Aimee glances to her phone.
“We have an hour,” I reply.
She looks at me with disappointed disgust. “We don’t know what’s between here and there that could catch our attention. What if there’s a souvenir shop that sells dildos?”
“That’s a sex shop,” Shyla says.
“Still.” Aimee should’ve added a foot stomp there. “It’s attention grabbing to some of us who don’t have a dick to ride every night.” She snaps her fingers several times. “Get your shit together and let’s do this. There’s so much here!” She peeks to Shyla before twisting around and sashaying away.
Shyla rolls her eyes. “And I thought I was the chocolate whore.”
Grabbing my sunglasses and purse, I pause at the mirror to primp my hair and straighten the strings to my black bikini under my tank top. I look better than I feel. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Aimee’s phone pings as we step on the elevator. She pulls it from her back pocket, sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes. “Does Bethany not know what the hell she’s doing?” she complains, tapping out a text.
“She’s trying to run both our booths and use our things. She knows no one and doesn’t have a clue where everything is. Give her a break,” Shyla tells her sounding slightly annoyed.
Aimee waves her hand. “You’re right. The distraction of chocolate is playing with my emotions.”
Our flip-flops smack the marble floors of the lobby as we stride through. Pillars with water trickling down them acting as waterfalls fill the air with a calming effect. Just then, Nathan steps out and snatches my arm, pulling me away.
“What are you doing?” I yelp trying to dig my flip-flops into the floor. “Stop.” I twi
st back to Aimee and Shyla for help, but Aimee blows me a kiss and keeps walking.
And that’s when it hits me. That bitch set me up.
All the talk about taking a trip on his dime, how badly we need it, and us being distracted between here and the chocolate factory has been part of her plan.
“Nathan, what are you doing?” I hiss as he swipes a card and drags me into a long hallway. Secluded.
“If you don’t let me go, I’m going to scream,” I warn.
He smirks, daring me to.
He swipes his card again and pulls me into a room with a long table lined with chairs. Shutting the door, he twists me around, grips the back of my head and kisses me.
I’m dizzy from it, intoxicated by his lips. It’s ardent, a perfect blend of hard and desperate, soft and zealous. The electricity that has always been between us zips over my skin, dipping my stomach and draining all the sorrow from my body. Softly, I moan.
“Let me talk,” he pants against my lips before leaning back to meet my gaze. “I’m flawed, Brooklyn. No amount of money can make me perfect. You’ve done nothing but screw my head up. When I saw him in your house…” His nostrils flare. “It devastated me. You fucking own me and have no clue. Whether we work out or not, I’m not going another day without you knowing how much I’m madly in love with you.”
Those words…
My breath catches in my throat.
“I love you so much it hurts. You’ve caused every wall I’ve ever built to crumble. I wasn’t looking for anything when I met you. I didn’t want to love, yet I couldn’t stop falling. Even with the mess of our beginning, I knew I wanted you. I fucked up and I don’t deserve another chance, but I do trust you. I do.”
Emotions swarm inside of me. My head swims in the rush. My gaze flicks between his eyes and I utter the one thing I’ve been dying to say, “I love you too.”
He slams his mouth to mine, tangling a hand into my hair and unbuttoning my shorts with the other. I’m frantic to get his pants off, to feel him inside of me. Shoving my shorts down, he pushes his pants to his thighs and lifts me, my legs instinctively wrapping around him.