Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1)

by Bracco, Kimberly

  Hell no!

  “Sorry, early day tomorrow,” I lie as I gather my clothes from the floor and pull them on.

  “Are you at least going to leave your number?” he asks, turning to watch me bend over and grab my shoes.

  Shaking my head, I lay it on him. “I had fun, but I’m not looking for anything past tonight.”

  Not waiting to hear if he says anything else, I bolt to the front door and get the hell out of there.

  I need to fucking shower, feeling gross after that sweat fest. Jed had a sweating problem, and it felt like it had started raining while I was fucking him. He kept trying to get me on my back so he could be on top, but I wasn’t having it.

  Why do I keep doing this to myself? I keep looking for the guy who is going to get me going again in bed. Every time I’m left disappointed. I haven’t had a good lay in six months.

  Alex is stuck in my head. The look on his face when I left him. The sound of his voice begging me to call him on my voicemail. They pop into my mind every time I’m about to come and totally kill the high for me. I know I did what I needed to do for myself, but I’m starting to wonder what it cost me.

  I keep telling myself that eventually I’ll find my groove again but the only place I seem to find any kind of groove is work. Things are reversed now. My work life is great but my sex life is in the shitter.

  These quick fucks with no strings, no feelings, no nothing, used to be great. But now it isn’t working for me anymore. Everything just feels empty. I feel empty. But my life is back on its original course, and that’s exactly what I wanted. I’m assuming everything else will follow suit soon. At least I hope so.

  Quinn

  “Here is a new group of proposals I was asked to bring you, Ms. Taylor,” Cara, one of the secretaries, says as she hands me a large folder.

  “Thank you,” I smile, not meaning it in the least bit. I still have about forty others to go through. Why my father doesn’t give them to someone else to read through I don’t understand. He just keeps burying me further and further. It’s not like he always listens to my suggestions anyway. He passed on a start-up earlier this year that I told him was going to be huge. And guess what? It is huge. So why keep piling it on if you aren’t going to take my recommendations into consideration anyway?

  The ringing of the phone buried under the remaining proposals from the last delivery draws me back to the present. Shoving a few files aside, I inwardly groan when I see my father’s extension lighting up the caller ID window.

  “Hello?”

  “Quinn, I need to see you in my office now,” he orders before hanging up. No question of if I’m busy or if I can spare the time. For fuck’s sake, would it kill him to say “please”?

  Walking from my office, I straighten my skirt and fight to keep my composure. I swear this man does shit like this just to put me in my place. He hates I won’t let him control me. The only place he has any authority over me is here. I can’t call him out here because it would make it look like there was discontent in the company. Heaven forbid a client was to overhear an argument between Daddy and me. So I grin and bear it, as I exit the elevator, until the day I take over and take this company to a whole other level.

  Margo is sitting at her desk, waving me into Daddy’s office, “He’s expecting you.”

  He barely acknowledges my requested presence as I enter. Briefly looking up from whatever he’s working on, he nods to the chair in front of his enormous desk. I used to love this office, but now I hate it. I hate everything about it. I hate the obnoxious marble floor. I hate the damned black leather couch that occupies one corner. I hate the framed photos littering the office, giving a false impression of a happy family. Yeah, I hate everything within these four walls. Including the man currently sitting at the desk, as if he’s the king of the world. I’m giving this office a complete overhaul once I move into it.

  “You wanted to see me?” I question, not giving a damn if he’s ready for me or not. He shouldn’t have called me up here if he wasn’t ready. My time is precious.

  “I stumbled upon some very valuable information this morning,” he says, still not looking up from whatever he’s doing.

  “Yeah? What was that?” I ask. I hate guessing games and the man knows this.

  Smiling, he says, “Martin McCallahan over at City Capital just learned he has stage three pancreatic cancer.”

  “How is a man having the most aggressive form of cancer good news?” I shake my head, astonished at my father’s lack of compassion for anyone or anything.

  “Because he’s going to have to step back and his son will be taking over. But he won’t hand the company over to his son unless he gets married.” The evil smile still sprawled across his face.

  “Okay…” I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do with this information.

  “I happened to call Martin earlier and told him his son sounds like just the type of man my daughter’s looking for, and she would love to meet him.”

  What in the actual fuck?

  “So are you telling me you have another daughter I don’t know about? Is your past finally catching up to you?” I smirk. He can’t possibly think I’m going to be into being set up with anyone, especially someone of his choosing.

  “Don’t be obtuse, Quinn. It’s very unbecoming,” he reprimands as if I give a shit about his opinion in general, let alone of me.

  “I don’t see the point of this. You know damn well I won’t agree to this, so I have no clue as to why you even bothered.” I stand to leave.

  “Sit down,” he says, but I ignore him as I round the chair toward the door.

  “NOW!” he bellows which causes me to stop in my tracks. I’ve only heard my father raise his voice with me once. It’s a memory I don’t like to reflect on, but the tone of his voice transports me back to being a foolish, naïve teenager.

  Following his command, I revert to my chair and wait to see what he has to say next. He rises from his haughty chair like the pompous ass he is and walks to the wall-to-wall windows which overlook the city.

  “City Capital has hit it big with the recent tech boom in New York’s VCs. They’re managing some huge start-ups and have clients looking for the next Facebook or Tumblr. That is something we don’t have. Our clients are leery of anything tech-based due to the last fall. They don’t want to lose money again. Do you know what would happen if the clients of City Capital and Taylor Ventures were merged? Do you have any idea how huge things could be with the tech investors and the business management investors together?” He doesn’t look away from the window during his entire soliloquy. He’s far off picturing this wonderland that will never happen. A wonderland I want no part in.

  “What does any of this have to do with you telling McCallahan I’m interested in his son?” I ask, wanting him to say it out loud.

  For the first time since I walked in here, Daddy stares me down. “You’ll date the son and do whatever necessary to rope him in. A marriage between the two of you will secure a merger of the companies. With the old man having one foot in the grave, the son will have no problem merging his company with his wife’s.”

  “The fuck I will,” I counter, standing to bring myself to his level. No way will he talk down to me in a situation like this.

  “Not with a mouth like that. Do you need to be so crass and combative all the time?” he asks with a huff.

  Is he for fucking real right now? “I have every right to be crass and combative when my father is trying to marry me off for profit. In what world did you think I would go along with this? I’m a person. I’m not a bargaining chip for you to use in a deal.”

  Straightening to his full height, he stomps forward. “You’ll do what I ask of you, young lady. You’re spoiled and selfish. I have given you everything you could’ve ever wanted. I gave you a top spot in one of the city’s top venture firms. A company I built from the ground up. A company you’ll inherit one day. The least you can do is help ensure the results of all my
hard work and sacrifice will only get bigger and better. This merger would solidify that future.”

  “There are ways to expand this firm that don’t involve forced marriages. Who’s to say I’m even this guy’s type? Did you ever think about that?” I point out, hoping to shine some light on the serious problems with his plan. “Does Martin have any idea you have an ulterior motive to all this?”

  “I’ve heard the rumors about you over the years, Quinn. I’ve heard the guys all talking about how they’d love to be on the receiving end of one of your no-strings-attached-one-night-stands. Why don’t you put those skills of yours to use. Maybe you can finally bring something valuable to this company. You’re a beautiful woman, just like your mother. No man in the city would think twice about having you on his arm or as his wife, especially if the sex is worth it.”

  And the insanity ensues. The man is talking about his daughter’s sex life as if he’s talking about the fucking stock report.

  “Excuse me, but my personal life is none of your or anyone’s business. And it sure as shit will not be used as leverage for your convoluted plan. I have no intention of getting married to McCallahan or anyone. So you’ll have to think of some other way to get your citywide domination because I will not have anything to do with this.”

  My head is spinning. I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. I knew Daddy was a cold bastard, but this? I never saw something like this coming.

  “That’s where you’re mistaken, my darling daughter,” he says, the creepy evil smile from earlier back on his face. “I don’t remember asking your opinion on this. I didn’t give you a choice. This can be done the easy way or the hard way. Either way is fine with me, but you should save us all the trouble and go along willingly.”

  Not fucking happening. No way. No how. Not a snowball’s chance in hell will I ever go through with this. My father forgets one thing—I’m his daughter, and I can be just as stubborn as him. Game on, Daddy Dearest. Game on.

  Alex

  “What’s with the blondes-only rule you have?” Jones, the team’s quarterback, yells over the din of the music in the club.

  “I don’t have a rule about blondes,” I say furrowing my brow at him.

  “Yes, you do,” he chuckles. “You only go for blondes.”

  I think for a moment. Have I been going for just blondes lately? I glance back to the girl who I was just checking out at the end of the bar before Jones said anything. She’s blonde. Damn.

  “Who was she?” Jones questions, bringing my attention back to him.

  “Who was who? What’s with all the riddles today, man? You hit your head in practice or something?” We’ve been out plenty of times since I’ve been here, and he’s never been this weird before.

  Raising an eyebrow at me, he clarifies, “Who is the blonde that has you all messed up?”

  A year and a half later and it’s still visible to people around me Quinn has a power over me. I try to deny it—even to myself—but I’m not fooling anyone.

  “It’s not something I do on purpose. I didn’t even realize it until you just pointed it out.” No sense in lying, and I really wasn’t doing it knowingly. I mean, I know here and there I would go home with a woman who reminded me of Quinn, but I didn’t realize I was doing it all the time.

  “Who was she?” he asks again.

  Sighing, I slam back a shot of tequila and give him the answer he’s looking for, “She was my girl. She left without ever giving me a reason why. I fucking loved her, and she broke my fucking heart.”

  “Ahh.” He nods. “She also the reason for this?” he asks flicking a finger through my now much longer hair. I haven’t cut my hair since I’ve been out here. It now rests just above my shoulders. I have a much difference appearance than when I first came out here. Longer hair, which is also slightly lighter from the year-round sun. I have a nice tan too. I’ve put on a little muscle and am in the best shape of my life. I’ve taken up hiking and swimming. Spending more time outdoors here than I did in Jersey.

  “Not her, but all the ones around here. These ladies love my hair. I can understand the love, though. Tell me you don’t like using hair for leverage,” I joke, well, kind of, because the women do love to pull my hair, and I like it.

  “How long are you going to keep taking home chicks who remind you of her before you go fix it?” he asks. I’m not sure why, but his comment annoys me.

  “I wasn’t just dating chicks who remind me of her on purpose. And I don’t see how I can fix things when I’m across the country and have no fucking clue what I did in the first place,” I snap at him.

  ”Dating? Dude, you don't date anyone. You buy them a couple drinks, bag them, and head out after. I doubt if you even know their names half the time,” he laughs sarcastically as he shakes his head at me.

  My thoughts go back to the girl I was with a few nights ago. I had only realized I didn’t know her name when I went to say goodbye and tried to stutter over it to cover. She called me an asshole as I was apologizing my way out the door.

  Fuck! He’s right. But my point still stands about getting her back. Not possible from here, and even more unlikely since I know shit about the reason she left in the first place.

  Quinn

  “Why do you keep coming to these setups?” I ask Jordan, a little loose-lipped from the four drinks I had during dinner. Staying at the bar after it ended probably wasn’t the best idea. But I can’t help it. Having to sit through these fucked up dinners with my dad is enough to drive anyone to alcohol. “I get blindsided by them, but you know why you’re coming. You know my dad’s motives.”

  The first time I met Jordan, it was a setup by my father. I was expecting to meet a potential investor, but it was Jordan who showed up. As soon as he introduced himself, I knew exactly what my father had done.

  Jordan stood there, hand in mine and sly smile on his face. He looked good in his navy suit. His blonde hair slicked back and brown eyes twinkling. I had no doubt that many panties had dropped thanks to that smile. It took me all of five minutes to set his ass straight.

  “I’m not fucking you,” I told him bluntly.

  “Excuse me?” he chuckled. “I don’t remember asking you to bed in the one sentence I’ve spoken to you.”

  “You didn’t have to,” I replied. “The look on your face did that for you. I’ve perfected this act. Used it many times.”

  I then went onto tell him exactly why I was there. I filled him in on my father’s stupid plan and how Jordan played into it. He didn’t need to get caught up in the battle between my dad and me. I also didn’t need him trying to seduce me. I knew all about his reputation. He’s the male version of me.

  “I do it because it makes my dad happy. He thinks you and I would be good together,” he says, bringing me back to the present as he stares into his half-drunk glass of Scotch on the bar. I got tricked into another dinner with my parents and Jordan’s family. My dad has become sneaky in his ways of trying to force me into his idea of marrying Jordan.

  He’ll tell me we have a meeting to attend with a client, and it will turn out to be dinner with Jordan’s family. He’s been pulling this shit for a good six months now. My dad has them all fooled, pretending to care about Martin’s condition. I can’t believe Martin’s this naïve though. My dad and he have never been more than business acquaintances, or at times, rivals.

  Other times, we do actually have meetings with clients, which forces me to show up to his requests because I never know if it’s a real meeting or a setup. He even got me on Mother’s Day last weekend. He told me we were having a brunch with my mother and Grandmother, but it turns out it was with my mom and Jordan’s mom. My grandmother wasn’t there. The old man’s fucking crafty; I’ll give him that. He knew I wouldn’t show up for just my mother, but I would for my grandmother.

  “Why would you let him think this is going somewhere? I’ve told you a hundred times that I have no intention of going through with this shit,” I question.

  T
urning his head toward me, he gives me a small smile before he answers. “All my dad really cares about is seeing me happy with a family. I don’t know how much longer I have with him, so I don’t mind painting him a picture he wants to see.”

  “So why does he want you to marry before he gives complete control of the company anyway?” I blurt out, not actually thinking before I speak. Damn liquor.

  Jordan’s eyes go wide and then he narrows them at me. “How do you know that?”

  “I told you how the first time we met. My dad told me when he informed me I was to date you,” I remind him.

  “You left that part out,” he notes.

  “I thought you understood that part. That’s why my dad concocted this whole thing. Your father said once you settled down, he was handing you over control, but not until then. My dad probably figured with your dad’s illness, you’ll marry just to get the business before he dies and leaves some clause in his will or something.” I try to explain my father’s uncompassionate thinking. “That’s the kind of fucked up shit my dad does.”

  “That’s not the reason I want to get married before he passes away,” he denies shaking his head. “I want…”

  “Wait,” I interrupt him. “You actually do want to get married?”

  “Yes, Quinn. You might’ve known that by now if you stopped hating me for a minute and had an actual conversation with me. I’m not the bad guy here. I know your dad has his agenda, but it has nothing to do with me,” he sighs. “Getting married would give my dad some peace of mind before he goes. All he’s ever wanted for me was a happy life. His definition of a happy life is family. He wants me to have that but doesn’t think I’m ready to control the business until I’ve settled down and started a family. He thinks you don’t learn to be truly responsible until you have someone to hold you accountable.”

  “Wow,” is all I have to say in response to his revelation. “You’re parents are much different than mine. My father defines happiness by his wealth and material possessions.”