Darker Water

by Lauren Stewart

  When the order came in, I thought it was a scam—who would buy everything on my website for full price? I ignored it until the online payment company verified and transferred funds. Then I asked a friend of a friend of a friend who was good with computers to check it out for me, because it couldn’t be true. A gallery owner wouldn’t buy them and, not that I’d knock anyone who liked my work that much, but is someone bought it all for their house, the place would look a little cluttered.

  I admit to sweaty palms and a thumping heart when the computer genius called. Hillary stood right next to me, as if we were waiting for news we’d won the lottery. Which this would qualify as, if it was true. Drum roll please…

  “It’s legit,” Andi said.

  “How is that even possible?”

  “How’s what even possible?” Hillary asked, tugging at my phone.

  “I could tell you what I did,” she said, “and where I looked, but—”

  “Yeah, that would be completely useless.” I put the phone on speaker so Hillary would stop glaring and pantomiming. “My brain doesn’t work like that.”

  “And mine doesn’t work like yours. I can’t even doodle.”

  “Can you repeat what you just told me before my roommate has a seizure?”

  “Um…okay,” Andi said slowly. “The sale is legit.”

  Hillary screamed, and I laughed. Oh my god! This was even bigger than the lily pad project. I needed to call Carson. He’d be just as happy as—

  Right. I couldn’t do that anymore. My excitement took a tumble. It took another when Hillary’s expression suddenly looked nervous and what Andi was saying registered in my mind.

  “The pictures are already up on the Bennett Foundation’s auction page. Just two, though, probably as a teaser since the auction is so far…” She kept talking but I’d heard enough.

  The Bennett Foundation. “That bastard.” Was it his way of apologizing or his way of taking pity on me? I didn’t want either. I wanted him in front of me, looking me in the eyes and talking to me without the bullshit qualifications or denials.

  “What?” Andi asked.

  “Her old…friend works there,” Hilary said, reaching for the phone as if I was going to chuck it against the wall and—Well, would you look at that: my arm was raised and prepped to throw.

  Big breath. Relax muscles. Promise Andi a favor whenever she needs it, thank her profusely, and hang up.

  Hillary took the phone out of my hand. “It doesn’t matter who bought them, Laney. You should be just as happy as you were a minute ago.”

  I couldn’t be. “How could he think that buying my stuff makes everything okay? Or that I even want his money?”

  “You do want his money. At least, you should want his money. Because that’s a big number.” Yeah, it was a huge amount, more than I thought my bank account could hold, but it was guilt money.

  “I’m not going to take it. He’s paying me off like he paid off his mom and stepsister. So he doesn’t have to speak to them.” As if money could replace him.

  “Maybe.” Hillary flopped down onto my bed. “Or…he’s buying your work because he knows how much you’re worth and this is the only way he can tell you he cares about you.”

  I spun my chair around. “By writing a check?” I didn’t mean to shout at her, but it came out sounding angry and bitter. Hillary didn’t seem put off at all.

  “He might be screwed up about relationships, but he’s not an idiot. If he can’t be with you—for whatever reason, true or not—but he loves you—”

  “He doesn’t love me.”

  She paused for a quick eye roll. “Right. Okay, so if he can’t be with you but he has a lot of something you don’t—money—and if he gives it to you—someone he likes a lot—and it’ll improve your life, how does that make him insensitive?”

  “That’s the point. He isn’t insensitive.” I didn’t have a legitimate reason to be mad at him, and that made it even worse. “He’s amazing but refuses to see it. Like the only things he has that anyone wants are his wallet and his ass.”

  “I don’t remember what his wallet looks like, but I remember his ass. And it’s pretty damn nice, so it’s not hard to see how he might get that impression.”

  “Hillary!” I shouted as my friend busted up laughing. She was the last person I’d expect to take Carson’s side.

  “Am I telling you something you don’t know? After all that time you guys spent in bed? I was with him once and hated him for months, but that beautiful image is branded on my eyelids.” Her expression changed, and she came over to me and hugged me. Only then did I realize I was crying again. Again? “Oh, honey. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to make a joke.”

  “It’s not that.” I wiped my face. “I wish I could do something for him. He keeps giving me things like the money and the lily pad gig.”

  “You got that job because you’re talented. Carson just pointed someone in your direction.”

  “Maybe, but I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

  “Yeah, looks like it,” she said, handing me a tissue.

  “Shut up. I mean I like knowing what I want and not being afraid of admitting it. He did that. He helped me understand myself. He saved me.”

  I tried not to think about what might have happened if Carson hadn’t shown up at my shop that day. I never would have imagined Kevin was capable of what he did, so how could I possibly know where he would’ve stopped?

  “I’ve never done anything for him,” I said. “I take that back—I’ve made his life worse. He liked his life before I came along, and now…”

  “Look, I have my issues with him, but he was right about you—you’ve changed. When you broke up with Kevin and started hating men, that wasn’t a healthy change. When you met Carson, you changed again, but in a good way, like you transformed into who you were meant to be.”

  “Great, so I screwed his life up while he made mine better.”

  “Knock it off, Laney. If I can get over my issues with him, you need to get over yours. You didn’t screw up his life. How can loving him possibly screw up his life? He’s not married, he’s just confused.”

  “He won’t ever let anyone love him.”

  “Can anyone control who loves them and who doesn’t?” Hillary asked matter-of-factly. “We can barely control our own emotions, let alone someone else’s. If you need proof of that, just think of how many boxes of tissues and pints of ice cream you’ve gone through.”

  After staring at my bank balance on the computer screen for another half an hour, I changed my mind. I would take it, all of it. Even if I paid my rent for the rest of the year and bought a shitload of new tools, I’d still have more than enough to do the other thing I needed to do. With the person I needed to do it with.

  Chapter 42 - Carson

  “Guess why the little sign says ‘Do Not Disturb!’” I yelled at the door Hayden had been pounding on for, like, ten minutes. “I’ll give you one shot at it.”

  “I’d prefer not to talk about this in the hallway. If you don’t open the door in the next thirty seconds, I have to assume you’ve drowned in the hot tub and get the hotel’s manager to open it up.”

  “He’s already been warned to stay away.” And paid. We were moving onto Day I’m-Not-Sure of not answering the door or the phone, so you’d think people would get the hint. My friends had all gone home days ago. They had things and people to go back for.

  “Carson! Stop being such a baby and open the goddamn door. Things are getting serious, and you need to do something about it.”

  About what? I climbed out of bed to find out what the fuck had happened while I’d been in isolation. That’s when I noticed the legal-sized envelopes that had been slipped under my door, despite all the money I’d paid the staff to keep people away from me. So the paperwork, plus Hayden taking time out of his workday to fly to Vegas, meant... Hell if I knew.

  I flicked the deadbolt and cracked the door open on my way down to grab them, scoot
ing back just in time to avoid getting smacked in the head as Hayden burst in.

  “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” He didn’t give me a chance to answer, probably understanding from my expression how clueless I was. Or maybe it was because I looked like someone who hadn’t gotten out of bed in the last…

  “What day is it?” I asked, scratching my unshaven jaw.

  “You’re in deep shit, little brother.” He pushed me backwards and shut the door behind him.

  “What’d I do?”

  “Well, if I believe Laney’s ex-boyfriend, i.e. the person most likely to have answered my phone calls, you attacked him for no reason.”

  Shit. That shook me out of the fog. “That’s what the bastard said happened?” I regretted that day more than any other, but not because of what I did to Kevin. “He deserved everything he got. He should be happy he could still walk away.”

  “And that kind of comment won’t help your case. He’s threatening to go to the police and tell them that he almost didn’t walk away.”

  “So? Lane already talked to them.”

  “She didn’t go to the police.”

  “What?” I straightened. “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because if she had, they would’ve questioned Kevin, and he would’ve told the police what he told everyone who wasn’t holed up in a hotel room drinking their meals. Kevin O’Leary is doing his medical residency at UCSF. He was the physician who worked on the man from the bar fight.”

  “That guy signed a nondisclosure agreement.”

  Hayden nodded. “That didn’t cover everything he’d already told the physician who worked on him before he signed it. When said physician got his ass handed to him by the same goddamn idiot his ex-patient did, he knew exactly where to hit to cause the most damage.”

  My lungs stayed on ‘empty.’ “Lane?”

  “No.” Hayden pantomimed smacking me on the back of the head. “Your pockets. Our name.” Hayden gave as much a shit about our family’s honor as I did, so I knew he was talking about the foundation. Exactly the same reason I’d agreed to pay the other guy off—so my screw-up wouldn’t hurt other people. Shit. Not one but two victims of my anger issues would flush donations down the toilet. Probably get me arrested, too.

  “The guy in the bar, yeah, that was on me. But Kevin…” I slumped onto the couch. “He was hurting her, Hay. I couldn’t let him hurt her.”

  He sat down next to me and blew out a breath. “He wants money. Lots of money. But unless you’ve given it all to Renee or spent it all on cards, booze, and expensive hookers, you can afford it. He also wants an apology with all the sincerity you can fake. You give him what he wants, he signs some paperwork, and we all move on.”

  “I write a check, so I don’t have to deal with it anymore.” Just like I did with Renee and Anna. What I’d done with Lane. So I could pretend I was doing the right thing. Then I’d apologize to someone who deserved as much punishment as I did.

  Fuck that. I stood. “No.”

  “Carson, think about it. Even if O’Leary doesn’t go to the police, he’ll still tell the media, skew what happened into something that works in his favor. And he has just enough facts to make it look true. No one roots for the rich kid, little brother. If he talks, things will only get worse for everyone—Laney included.”

  “I don’t care about the money. If he doesn’t talk, he can have however much he wants.” Because his lies would hurt good families who were hurting too much as it was.

  “I have to do something about my shit, Hayden. I can’t keep telling myself it’s not affecting anyone.” How long had I been pretending the first eighteen years of my life didn’t exist? “I’ll need some help with the board, though.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got it. What about the apology?”

  “Yeah, the bastard will get a fucking apology I don’t mean and he doesn’t deserve. But on one condition.” I thought about it. “Make that two conditions: You wake Anna up to tell her about an emergency meeting of the board.”

  “Really, Carson? You know what I do for a living and approximately how much money I get for doing it. And you want me to make a wake-up call?”

  “You never lived with her, so you’ve never had to deal with her in the morning. Trust me, it’ll be one of the most unpleasant things you’ve ever had to do. And I’m not even going to ask you to break it to her that she’s finally getting a real job. Because I love you too much to put you through that.”

  I didn’t trust my wicked stepsister to be responsible for anything hugely important. But she was beautiful, smart, and manipulative—all things appreciated by wealthy men from every nation on earth. She might as well start using her powers for good.

  “Oh, and make sure she understands that she doesn’t have to be there in person, so she shouldn’t worry too much about her hair.” Expecting her to show up would be stupid, even if I wanted to ever see her again. Plus, not all the board members were local, so we’d have to set up the teleconference anyway.

  “Is the second condition as terrifying?” Hayden grumbled.

  “No. The second condition is simple: Kevin signs an agreement that says he’ll stay the fuck away from Lane for the rest of his life.” Just like I had to.

  Chapter 43 - Laney

  It wasn’t hard to track Renee down. The wealthy can afford more security, but privacy can’t be bought. The next day I was on a plane to Los Angeles with an address and a whole lot of anxiety. There was a chance the address could be wrong, or she might have gone to Vegas, opted for the complete Elvis wedding package, and was already living with her new husband. But Renee didn’t seem the type to do anything that normal.

  I pulled the rental car up to the security gate and told the guard who I was here to see. If Renee refused to see me, I’d move on to Plan B. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, because my Plan B sucked and involved acting skills I didn’t have. After the guard made a call, presumably to Renee, he opened the gate and waved me through.

  Renee’s house was bigger than the entire neighborhood I grew up in—manicured lawn, no chips in the sidewalk. Even the house number painted on the curb out front was flawless.

  My confidence turned into nausea until I reminded myself that I had absolutely nothing to lose. I’d already lost him. And, even if everything went perfectly, I didn’t expect that to change. I just hoped he would.

  Carson would never open himself back up to me—that was something I’d have to live with—but maybe he could to the woman who gave birth to him, who’d been there while the damage was being done.

  The door opened before I even knocked.

  “Is Carson alright?” Renee asked, looking as if she’d hike up to San Francisco in heels if she had to. That gave me hope—the woman wanted what was best for her son, she probably just didn’t know what that was.

  “Yeah, he’s fine,” I said quickly. “I mean, I think so. Mostly. Have you spoken to Hayden lately?”

  “Neither of my boys tell me much of anything. The little I know about Carson’s predicament is due to the tirade of phone calls from lawyers asking if I know where he is.”

  “I don’t know much more than you, then. The last time I saw him he was healthy…physically”—I dropped the volume of my voice—“but otherwise he was kind of a mess.”

  “Come in.”

  I kept things simple but honest—about my relationship with Carson, how it had started and how it had ended. Renee was silent throughout the entire explanation, sipping her tea whenever it seemed like she wanted to stop herself from saying something.

  Finally, I gave up. “You need to fix things with him because he won’t listen to me.”

  When Renee put her teacup and saucer on the table, I understood why she hadn’t let go of it since we’d started speaking. Her hands were shaking. “I don’t know if it would be any different for me. You saw how he feels about me, how angry he was when I announced my engagement.”

  “He wouldn’t have gotten that angry
if he didn’t care about you.”

  “I was the cause of a lot of hardship when Carson was younger. I don’t know what I could ever do to make up for that time in his life.”

  “You don’t have to make up any time. Regardless of whatever happened between you and your late husband or any other man, you’re the only chance Carson has to start over. He needs to start over, Renee.”

  “I’ve spent the last seven years trying to find a way to help him do that. I’m still looking.”

  Obviously she hadn’t looked in a mirror. She couldn’t change him, just like she couldn’t change any of her exes. Just like I didn’t change any of mine into frogs. Just like they hadn’t changed me. I changed myself, once I finally understood who I was.

  Renee smoothed her skirt, and I saw her bare finger—the huge engagement rock was gone. When she caught me gawking, she looked at her hand.

  “You noticed,” she said.

  “It’s hard not to—your finger was really shiny last time we met.” I felt myself tense. I didn’t come here to talk about jewelry.

  “Yes, it was.” Renee’s smile was tight as she moved to pick up her teacup. Then she stopped and put her hands in her lap, her right covering her left. “I actually forget it’s not there from time to time.”

  My impatience disappeared, replaced with blatant curiosity. Carson said Renee hated being alone. So what had happened?

  “Why aren’t you getting married?” I asked.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Normally I’d completely agree with you.” Deep breath. “But normally I’m not in love with someone who will never be able to love me back. Because he’s afraid that if he does, he’ll turn into the kind of man his father was. The kind of man his stepfathers were. Men you chose to bring into your son’s life.”

  My curiosity turned into angry frustration. “I’m not here to blame you or make you feel guilty, or even to bring you and Carson closer together. I’m here to tell you that you’re the only one who can help your son understand that he’s not like any of the men you chose. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about your personal life. All I care about is how it affects Carson. Because whether he wants it or not, Carson is my business, and therefore, why you’re not getting married to another reminder of his father is also my business.”