“I’m sorry, Alex. I never thought he’d stoop this low.”
“You didn’t? Seriously,” I said, disgusted with her naivety even after all this time. “The man has no conscience. You should have learned that the first time he slammed your head into the kitchen wall.”
“Yeah, well…I never was one to learn from my mistakes,” she emitted spitefully. Her voice cracked and fresh tears filled her eyes. I was instantly overcome with shame.
What the fuck is wrong with me today?
“Look, I’m sorry. That was a low blow. I know you did what you thought was best at the time. As for all of this other bullshit, I told you that I’d handle it, and I will.”
“I hope you can, Alex. He’s asking for an awful lot of money,” she said, voice full of disbelief, shaking her head back and forth.
I didn’t bother to ask how much. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t getting another dime from her or me.
“I’ve got this. Go home, Justine. Call Suzanne. Plan a lunch date or a spa day. Something.”
She easily agreed to the suggestion and I hoped that an afternoon of doing whatever it was girls did together would distract her. At the very least, she seemed calmer when she kissed me good-bye.
“Thanks. I owe you for this,” she vowed.
I cast her a grim smile, knowing that I’d never cash in on the favor.
As soon as I was able to shoo her out the door, I picked up the phone to get my lawyer on the line. When it came to someone like Charlie Andrews, it wouldn’t matter how much wealth or power I possessed. He wasn’t easily put off by intimidation. He was driven by his addiction, lacking all common sense. It was time to take a more drastic approach.
“Stephen, I want you and Hale in here ASAP. I have a problem that needs to be dealt with.”
I slammed the receiver down without waiting for a response. Charlie was the last person I wanted to deal with at that moment. I had a full schedule ahead of me, with two important meetings later in the afternoon that I needed to prepare for. And then there was the most pressing matter of all – finding a way to apologize to Krystina.
Her expression before she left my building was singed into my brain like I had been branded – her face so beautiful, yet full of wounded indignation. I felt a stab of guilt.
Why do I feel guilty? She’s just a girl.
A very pretty girl.
A girl whose alluring face appears in my mind without warning, disrupting all other rational thoughts. The fact that rectifying the situation with Krystina was first and foremost was unsettling.
This is ridiculous. I’ll just find a way to offer an apology and move on.
But despite what I told myself, I knew that erasing Krystina Cole from my mind wouldn’t be that easy.
CHAPTER 8
I sat at the kitchen table stirring a spoon in a bowl of cereal. It had been three days since my interview with Alexander Stone. I wasn’t naïve. I knew that he wasn’t going to call me to reschedule. It didn’t really matter. I never wanted to hear from him again anyway. I was a fool for dropping my guard, even for a moment. I was smarter than that.
During the first few days after the interview, my jealousy had kicked into over drive. Why I was jealous, I didn’t know. I certainly had no right to stake claims on the man. Yet, I had come home that day in an absolute rage and used Allyson as my sounding board. Being the best friend that she was, she shared my anger and swore profusely over and over again, calling him every name in the book.
But then, like all great friends do, she listened while I cried. I cried over a lost job opportunity and I cried over my stupidity. And the worst part of it all, I cried over him. I knew that my tears were misguided. After all, I barely knew the guy. But the simple fact was, Alexander Stone stirred up emotions that I managed to keep buried for so long. He had made me feel alive again and put a little crack in the walls that I had so carefully built around myself.
And I hated him for it.
After my ordeal with Trevor, I had vowed to myself that I would never again show that kind of weakness, and I had since mastered the ability to ignore the opposite sex as much as humanly possible.
How could I have been so dumb?
My thoughts drifted back to the time with my ex-boyfriend and I couldn’t stop the bitterness from creeping up inside me. I had met Trevor Hamilton my freshman year of college. We were the stereotypical couple that you read about in books. He was the wealthy, popular boy on campus and I was the new girl, struggling to find my place in the vast city of New York. I had fallen for him practically overnight.
However, unlike the storybooks, we didn’t have a fairytale ending. Trevor was a different man behind closed doors. He was controlling to the point of obsession. He told me what to wear, how to style my hair, and where to shop. He even went so far as to write down a schedule for me, planning my time and activities down to the minute. He took charge of every aspect of my life, slowly forcing me away from my friends and family. Sometimes it felt like I couldn’t even breathe without his approval.
When I looked back, I knew that I was partly to blame. I allowed Trevor to do it. I ignored the warnings from my friends. I assured my troubled conscience that he was a perfectionist, and that was why he was so controlling. I told myself that he loved me and only wanted what was best for me. I became a victim to the old adage – the one that talks about love making people lose their sight, oblivious to the realities surrounding them.
I had been as blind as a bat.
At least I was until that fateful spring day, when he had called me to cancel our plans for that evening. He had said that he was sick. I figured that he must have been feeling pretty bad to cancel out on me, especially since Trevor never allowed any deviation of my schedule. I thought that it would be nice to surprise him with homemade chicken soup.
As it turned out, Trevor wasn’t really that sick at all. I ended up walking in on him doing the horizontal tango with some scrawny-assed blond.
In an instant, my whole world shattered. As hard as I tried to forget that day and the terrible weeks that followed, I could remember it like it was only yesterday. The yelling, the screaming, and the violence would forever be burned into the deep recesses of my brain. It had altered my opinion of the world and all the people in it, and ultimately ended up changing who I was.
It was the day that made my heart turn to stone.
Allyson, the only friend that I had left, was there to pick up the pieces. She came home to find me a crumpled up mess on the floor and worked tirelessly for months to make me see things for what they really were. It took me a while to come around, but eventually I was able to see that I didn’t really love Trevor and that what had happened wasn’t my fault.
I knew now that I was just in love with the idea that society jams down everyone’s throat – that companionship wrapped in a white picket fence was the key to happiness. I couldn’t think of a bigger lie.
All men are bastards. I don’t need that headache.
I went to the sink to dump my now mushy cereal into the garbage disposal. I was dwelling too much on my disastrous history and had lost my appetite. I needed to remember my restraint and not give into a small moment of weakness. I had given up on fairytales and pipedreams for a good reason. I’d be damned before I would let history repeat its self.
I just needed to get rid of one little problem – Alexander Stone. He was consuming my every waking thought. I fought to extinguish all thoughts of that extraordinary and complex man from my mind, but Allyson’s words at Murphy’s rang in my head.
Every guy isn’t like Trevor.
But my hardened heart said that Allyson was wrong. They were all like Trevor, every last one of them.
Assholes.
Alexander had only proved himself to be the same as the rest. I never should have let him get to me. It was time to toughen my resolve. I did it once before, I could certainly do it again. I just needed to find a distraction.
I glanced over at the pile of bills o
n the kitchen counter, my first student loan payment sitting amongst them. A review of my finances and a job search would certainly be enough of a distraction, and it was long overdue.
I went over to the counter and began sorting through the overwhelming pile, trying to figure out how I would make ends meet with my salary at Wally’s.
After an hour of crunching numbers, panic began to set in as I stared at the homemade spreadsheet in front of me.
I was severely in the red.
I reworked the math three more times just to make sure that my figures were correct, but the result was the same. I was going to have to make some major cut backs if I didn’t find a better paying job soon, and I knew that selling my car was inevitable.
It doesn’t matter – I hardly use the beat up old Ford anyway.
Parking in this city was so damned expensive and difficult to come by, that public transportation had just ended up being easier. However, a prickle of tears began to sting my eyes, as a wave of nostalgia came over me at the thought of giving up my first car.
I’m being stupid – it’s just a car. I’ll sell it if I have to.
A knock on the door disrupted my thoughts. I went to the door, opened it and found a FedEx package at my feet. I figured Allyson must have ordered something online, but then I saw that it was addressed to me.
I brought the package into the kitchen and rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers for a pair of scissors. Placing the box on the kitchen counter, I cut through the packaging tape. A new smart phone was inside.
What the hell?
I never did end up making it to the cell phone store. When I picked up the phone, I noticed a note in the bottom of the box.
Waiting for you to reschedule. Thought this might help.
My contact info has already been programmed, along with some music to help persuade you. Listen to it.
The note wasn’t signed, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who sent it. I powered on the phone and pulled up the contact list. Alexander Stone’s name, email address, and three different contact numbers were already programed into it, as well as all of my other contacts.
I fought the urge to smash the phone against the kitchen wall.
This has to be some sort of sick joke! Of all the nerve!
The cell phone rang loudly through the silent apartment, practically making me jump out of my skin. My mother’s name showed on the caller ID.
Why are my calls going to this phone?
I warily slid my finger along the smooth touch screen to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“There you are!” my mother’s voice exclaimed on the other end of the line. “I’ve been calling all morning, but your phone was sending me straight to voicemail.”
I looked at my broken cell phone that was on the coffee table in the living room.
That’s strange. The phone was turned on.
But the thought was fleeting, as an idea of a completely impossible scenario came to mind.
There’s no way…he couldn’t have.
I hurried to the table to inspect the old phone, and my jaw hit the floor.
Oh my god – that son of a bitch deactivated it.
I pulled the new phone away from my ear to look at it and felt my blood begin to simmer at his audacity.
I don’t care if he’s some mega ultra-powerful zillionaire! He has no right! This must be illegal somehow. Of all the sneaky, controlling, and underhanded things…
“Krys? Are you there?” asked my mother, her voice sounding faint as I continued to hold the expensive device out in front of me.
“Hi, mom. Yeah, I’m here,” I said, bringing the phone back to my ear. I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on.
“How are you, love? I haven’t talked to you in weeks.”
“I’m good. Busy, but good.”
“Busy finding a job I hope. You insisted on spending all of that money going to college in New York, you should have something to show for it by now.”
I closed my eyes and let out a sigh.
Here we go.
“No, Mom. Not yet. In fact, I was just about to pull out my laptop and start another job hunt. You sort of caught me at a bad time.”
“Honey, I don’t know why you just don’t move home. You know that Frank could get you a job anywhere in Albany. I really wish you would stop being so stubborn about staying in New York.”
“Mom, we’ve been through this a thousand times. I like living in New York.”
“I know, but –.”
“I have to go, mom. I really need to concentrate on finding a job.”
I found that sometimes it was better to just talk over her. She never listened otherwise and I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.
“If you would only –.”
“I’m hanging up now, Mom,” I told her, my impatience coming out loud and clear.
“Okay, fine. I get it. You don’t want to talk about it. I’ll stop. That’s not why I called anyhow. The reason I called was to tell you that Frank and I are coming to New York in a few weeks. I’m long overdue for a visit and I want to get a jump start on my holiday shopping.”
I groaned inwardly. As nice as it would be to see them, a visit from my mother and stepfather took a lot of energy – energy that I wasn’t really feeling at the moment.
“Sounds good. I’ll look forward to it,” I lied.
“Alright, honey. I’ll let you know which weekend we are coming once we finalize our plans. Good luck job hunting! Love you!”
“Love you too, Mom. Bye.”
I hit the end button on the touchscreen. Rage returned with a vengeance as I stared down at Alexander Stone’s gift, if one would even call it that.
It’s more like a hostile takeover of my personal means of communication!
On impulse, I decided to send him a text, my fingers typing feverishly in anger.
Today
10:32 AM, Me: Who do you think you are?
The seconds ticked by, my fingernails clicking impatiently on the kitchen counter, as I waited for his response. After a few minutes, I was ready to ditch the phone in the trash, but then it chimed with a notification of a new message.
10:38 AM, Alexander: Good. You received the phone.
I could almost see his smug expression as I read his response. That fueled my fury even more. I responded back in such a rush, that I misspelled everything.
If the prick could take the time to have all of my contacts reprogrammed, he should have at least turned on the auto spelling correct!
I started over, this time typing more slowly.
10:41 AM, Me: Yes, I received it – and you can take it right back too!
10:42 AM, Alexander: It’s yours. Keep it.
Ugh! Is he really that dense!
He was starting to push me over the edge. I wanted no ties to Alexander whatsoever and I had no intention of keeping the stupid cell phone, as it would only be a constant reminder of him.
10:44 AM, Me: I don’t want it.
10:45 AM, Alexander: You could always go back to your broken one.
10:45 AM, Me: You deactivated it!
10:47 AM, Alexander: And your point is?
10:48 AM, Me: Normal people don’t DO things like that!
10:51 AM, Alexander: I’m not normal people Krystina.
You can say that again!
10:54 AM, Me: How did you do it?
10:56 AM, Alexander: Do what?
10:57 AM, Me: Deactivate my phone???
10:59 AM, Alexander: I know people.
11:00 AM, Me: Then tell your PEOPLE to change it back!
11:04 AM, Alexander: No.
11:04 AM, Me: YES!
11:09 AM, Alexander: I’ve rescheduled your interview for this afternoon.
11:10 AM, Me: Then you’re going to be awfully bored this afternoon.
11:13 AM, Alexander: Why is that?
11:14 AM, Me: Because I won’t be there.
11:17 AM, Ale
xander: Yes you will. 2pm. My office.
11:18 AM, Me: I will NOT be there! And I want you to fix my phone!
No response.
Fine. I’ll take care of it myself!
I hurried to my bedroom to get dressed. I hastily threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and then rummaged around in my closet for a pair of sneakers. I located them quickly and tied the shoelaces with expert speed, all while thinking about the vicious things I would say to the clerk at the cell phone counter.
Someone is going to get his or her ass chewed off for this!
And HIM…rescheduling my interview…HA!
I headed back out to the kitchen, but stopped short when I saw the Fed-Ex box sitting on the counter. I forced myself to see reason. It wouldn’t do me much good if I stormed into the wireless communications store and went off half-cocked on some poor defenseless sales clerk. I would probably end up getting myself arrested for acting like a crazed lunatic.
It’s not their fault that Stone is an assuming jerk.
Knowing that I had to get a handle on my emotions before I did anything rash, I took a deep breath to try and calm my mounting temper. Going to the store in my current frame of mind would only lead to a total catastrophe, and I tried to form a more sensible plan – one that didn’t involve any jail time.
La Biga first. A caffeine fix will do me good. Plus, it will buy me some time to screw my head back on straight.
I eyed up my laptop that was sitting on the coffee table.
Yes! I can look for a job online while I’m at the coffee shop, too.
After an hour or so of doing an employment search, I assumed that a sufficient amount of time would have passed and I’d be a bit calmer when I went to return the phone.
Satisfied with my plan of action, I grabbed everything I would need, including Alexander’s asinine phone, and dashed out of the apartment to catch the Redline.
Heart of Stone Page 8