by Julia Bright
Heather starts scratching her neck and sinks her teeth into her lower lip. “We need to go down.”
“Sure. I know we’re leaving today, can I arrange a time to see you?”
“Let’s make it through brunch and then I’ll decide.” It’s not the answer I want but it’s the answer I’m going to live with.
Maybe I’ve seen it before, maybe not, but sitting down with my parents this time is different. I see them through Heather’s eyes. I don’t want to be like them when I’m fifty. Heck, I don’t want to be like them when I’m thirty and that is fast approaching.
Heather is quiet. I think Alisha notices. In the past, I’ve never cared about anyone enough to stick around and change. My history with women is terrible. I’ve screwed up time and time again. Of course, I usually picked up women who weren’t like Heather. She was real. There was an authentic air about her that no other woman I’d dated ever had. Heather was extraordinary.
I hadn’t been paying attention to the chit-chat around the table and when my dad narrows his eyes at me, I’m dumbfounded.
“Well?” Dad lifts his hands like he’s asking a question.
The subject has escaped me and I feel like an idiot. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
Dad throws up his arms and stands. “See, this is why I can’t turn the company over to him. He’s a half-wit.”
“You’re wrong,” Heather says.
“Oh shut up. What do you know, you freaking hippie?”
The words roll off his tongue and anger flashes hot inside me. I toss my napkin on the floor. Heather’s hand is on my arm, fingernails digging in, holding me in place.
“I’m not going to shut up.” Heather’s voice is even, her shoulders square.
I’d never admired a woman as much as I admire her at this moment. She isn’t just some flower child, hippie. She has a spine of steel.
“You may think you can say whatever you want to me, but you can’t. I won’t put up with your disrespect or your attitude.”
Dad waves his arms at her and rolls his eyes. “What do you know? You’re nothing more than a-a girl.”
Heather laughs and shakes her head. “I know the value of people and I don’t treat them like dirt.”
Dad scoffs. “That won’t get you far. You’ve got to be powerful and my son is weak.”
Again, Heather laughs. “From my vantage point, you’re one of the poorest and weakest people I’ve ever seen. You may have cash in a bank somewhere, but you don’t have peace in your heart. One day, you’ll regret treating people like trash. But I won’t be one of those people.”
I had no idea what Heather was going to say next. Maybe she would reveal our lie and tell my father we weren’t a couple. The air had cooled off considerably and my mom looked horrified. No one had ever talked to my father like Heather was speaking to him. Stunned didn’t even begin to cover how he looked.
Heather turns to Alisha and begins speaking. “Thank you for being such a wonderful host. It’s been a pleasure to meet you. William, you have a lovely house. Thank you for inviting us.” Heather stands and I hop up too. My mom’s frown deepens. Heather flashes a stiff smile at my mom. “It was nice to meet you.” She doesn’t offer those words to my dad. I didn’t blame her.
My dad throws up his hands. “Are you going to follow that twat?”
I nod and my lips curve into a smile I can’t suppress. “Yep, and she’s right. You’re going to eventually regret a lot of stuff.” I follow her up to our room and find her bent at the waist, sucking in air. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes are wide, and her face is white. “I can’t believe I stood up to him.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze catches mine and in the moment, I know she is the better person. She always has been the better person. Her quirky ways aren’t just endearing, she is a good person. No question, she is much better than I am or my dad will ever be.
“Are you ready to leave?” I can’t stay another minute. I’ll probably lose my job, but I don’t care. Knowing my dad, he has already sent a note to the board.
“Yes, let’s go.” Her voice shakes, tugging at my heart, revealing her emotions.
I carry our bags downstairs where William and Alisha meet us. “You don’t have to leave.”
“I’m sorry, Alisha, William,” Heather says. “I need to head back into town. It was very nice of you opening your home.”
William pulls Heather into a hug. “Someone has needed to say that to him for a long time. Thank you.”
Heather’s laughter fills the entryway. “It was very rude of me.”
“He’ll get over it,” William says as he steps away. “Come back, just the two of you. I think we could have a wonderful weekend together.”
Heather nods but I know she doesn’t mean it. She’s not going to give me the time of day. I’ve been acting like my dad and he’s a dick. It’s time for a new balance in my life, but I’m not sure how to get there. No matter how I choose to live, I want to have Heather with me.
Chapter Six
Heather
The drive into the city is uncomfortable, to say the least. Baxter had said some very hateful things, but he didn’t know anything about me, not really. I’d not disclosed my work history to him. Not the twenty hour days where I’d slept in snatches as I got my first line of clothing ready. I didn’t tell him how I’d worked so hard sewing those first articles of clothes my fingers bled. The first store had almost killed me. Back then I was sinking fast and bankruptcy had loomed.
He didn’t know I was a CEO of a company that might go international in a few months. I thought of telling him everything, but now it was too late. If I told him I did understand his headaches and his pain, it would give him an easy out. He wouldn’t have to figure out what type of man he wanted to be.
Baxter stops the car and I open my door. He jumps out when there is a break in traffic and runs around, opening the back door. Before I can grab my bag, he’s tugging it out.
“Can I see you this week? Maybe we could go to dinner on Wednesday.”
My heart is sore and my head hurts. I can’t, not yet. I shake my head though I wanted to say yes. Baxter is a good guy, kind of, but he has issues. I can’t help him this time.
“I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t have to be a date. Just us two eating food at the same table.”
“I’m not some girl you can string along.”
“I’m not stringing you along. I’m serious this time, Heather, I’m not using you. I want to get to know you. I’m not going to try to get you to fix me then run off. This time, it’s real.”
I want to believe him. There have been few men I’ve ever felt a deep connection with. My connection to Baxter is stronger than any other I’ve ever felt. “I just can’t, not yet.”
“Okay, how about lunch?” Baxter asks.
My mouth falls open and I shake my head. “You’ll actually break away from work?”
“For you, I will. But you do realize after the words I said to my father, he may make sure I don’t have a job come Monday.”
I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure if Baxter’s dad could fire him. The desire to see him outweighs my hesitation. “Okay, lunch on Wednesday.”
Baxter pulls me close and I want to push away. He doesn’t try to kiss me, maybe he notices my stiff spine and tight muscles, either way, he backs off.
“I’ll call you later.”
I nod, not wanting to argue. I head up to my apartment, but my soul is damaged and I don’t want to be alone. I need to revive so I head to my favorite place in the city. Central Park relaxes me. It’s the oasis I need when life is too tough.
My sketch pad is tucked in my backpack. It takes one full lap around the reservoir before I can head to the Turtle Pond and sketch a new pattern. This design is going to be for silk scarves. I haven’t done any scarves in a while, but it’s something I want to add to my collection. The pattern of turtles and lily pads is heavily influenced by my location. After a fe
w minutes of drawing, I notice I’ve placed buttercups near the fringe. It’s a subtle stripe of yellow that reminds me of Baxter. He’s in my mind, and no matter how far I run from him, I’m going to have to confront my feelings.
I swing by the store before closing, happy to see five people shopping. Marci and Bree were the only employees in the store and they were both working hard to please the customers. I deposit my bag in the back and begin ringing up purchases, attributing the commissions to the women working the floor. There was something satisfying about helping people find clothes they love. Two more women come in, gushing over a new pair of pants which had come in over the weekend.
After almost an hour the store emptied. Bree and Marci both laughed and gave me high fives.
“That was so good,” Marci says.
Happiness fills me. “Excellent rush. You both are amazing.”
“You’re back in town early.” Marci lifts her brows before turning to replace items that didn’t fit the customers.
“He needed to come back and work.” The lie rolls off my tongue easily.
Both women look at me like they know better.
I go into my office and pull up my email. I need to head to California to sort out a few issues. I mull over timing. On the one hand, doing a surprise visit would keep them on their toes. After looking at the last set of financial data from both California stores earlier in the week, I know they are already on their toes and getting better. I need to get away though and this is a great excuse.
Another customer comes in and I shut the door to my office. Tea calls to me and I pour a cup then sink into the chair behind my desk. I drop my head to the desk and tears come. Being with Baxter’s family had been stressful. After a few minutes, I wipe my tears away and start looking at flights. There is one which leaves in the afternoon on Monday. I think about lunch on Wednesday with Baxter, but I can’t face him. I book the flight, thinking I’m taking the cowards way out.
I feel energized again. Eventually, I’ll need to find someone to manage my stores. But would that leave me out of touch with people? I loved being right in the action, talking to the women who wear my products. But something needs to change. The rush I’d walked in on wasn’t an anomaly. More women were buying my clothes, which was a good thing, but could I keep up with demand?
I head home, happy to have made some decisions but still mulling over others. Going to California would help me focus. I need the time away to think, and I always think better after a trip out west.
When Baxter calls me on Sunday night, I let it slip to voicemail. I can’t deal with him or the problems he’s brought into my life. The flight on Monday is uneventful. When I land in California, I feel like I’ve taken a breath of fresh air.
I need to call Baxter, but I really don’t want to. He hurt me, and I don’t want to talk to him, but I needed to inform him I won’t make it for lunch.
The phone rings twice and I check my watch, it was eight in the evening so he shouldn’t be working. Just as it was about to roll to voicemail, he answers.
“Hello, Heather?”
His voice weaves through me, leaving me longing. I don’t want to want him, but I do. “Yes, it’s me.”
“I was about to call and ask if you wanted to get a drink.”
“Um…well.” I hesitate, wishing I’d called him the night before to tell him my plans. But I don’t owe him anything, not really. “I’m in California.”
“What?” The panic in his voice is obvious.
“I flew out yesterday.”
He says nothing when I expected hate or anger. Instead, he sighs. “Okay. So I guess we won’t be able to eat lunch tomorrow.”
I’m a little disappointed he’s taking this so well. If he’d yelled or screamed, I would have been able to dump him easily. This kinder, nicer Baxter has left me intrigued. He’s not perfect, but neither am I. “No, I won’t be back until Friday, late.”
“Let me pick you up from the airport.”
Shock pulses through me. “What? Really? It’s JFK.”
“I’m fine with that. I’ll pick you up and take you to dinner. I want to see you.”
I stare at my nails, studying the polish. He is being nice. I want this to be real. I want him to be the kind man I remember from school. I nod though he can’t see me.
“Okay. I’ll send you my flight details.” A bubble of stress lets go, leaving me feeling relief.
“Thank you. I’ll see you on Friday. Have a good week in California.”
“Thank you. I will.”
I hang up and wonder if seeing him on Friday is going to make a difference in how I feel. Anger churns in my belly at the memory of his words. I was making a big deal out of this, and maybe I shouldn’t, but I was angry. He’d assumed so many things about me. It wasn’t fair, but there was nothing rational about my feelings for him. Time away would help me clear my head.
Working in California, visiting my shops in Hollywood and San Francisco gives me a boost. One of the actresses I’m dressing for the Met Gala meets with me so I can take final measurements. I show her the fabric I plan on using and her excitement is contagious. Now, I’m more excited than ever to finish the dress.
My nerves hit on Friday when I’m midway home. Baxter will be waiting for me. I can’t allow myself to head down a path that will lead to anger and hate. Anger causes too much friction and blocks my creativity. If I can’t create, it’s all over. Sure, I have next season’s designs already done, but I need to figure out the season after next.
When I check my phone as I step off the plane there is a text from Baxter. He’s waiting near the baggage claim. I stop by the bathroom and freshen up before heading to the baggage area. My belly flutters and my heart speeds up when I see him. He does induce a certain reaction in me. No question, Baxter is sexy, but it’s more than looks, it’s him. That thought scares me, but I don’t have time to wallow in my fright.
“Hey, Heather, I missed you.” Baxter grabs my carry-on bag and shoulders it. “Point out your suitcase and I’ll grab it.”
I’m a little disappointed he doesn’t kiss me. I want to feel his lips on mine, but he’s being reserved. I place my hand on his arm and his smile deepens. “The suitcase is red and huge.”
Baxter lowers his head just a little but still doesn’t kiss me. “You smell nice.”
I lift up on my toes and brush my lips over his. I want him, even if I can’t say the words to him. “Thank you.” His scent is in my nose and I want it all over my skin. I’m a fool for wanting sex without seeing if he’s changed, but I guess I can play the fool well.
I’m a little surprised he hasn’t made demands or acted like a jerk while I’ve been gone. When he’d lived in California, he’d been a little peevish if I couldn’t get together with him. Maybe that had kept us apart in college. Now, he’s being respectful of my wishes. His attitude is attractive, and I can see myself falling for him.
Honestly, California was very good for me. It gave me time to think. I reevaluated my life, how I felt about Baxter, and what I wanted. I’d been a little harsh when Baxter had said those things in Connecticut. Maybe he really was worth a second chance.
A faint smile plays at his lips as he grabs my bag, not saying anything about the weight. I’d brought back samples and clothes from one of my other stores. I could have mailed them, but I wanted them this weekend so I could play with the fabric and make something new.
The air between us is calm as we drive to a restaurant in Brooklyn where they seemed to know Baxter’s name. The place is quaint, small, and dark, with little red candles on each table.
“This is nice.” I look around, noticing black and white photos on the walls.
Baxter’s lips curve up in a way that makes me want to giggle. “Honestly, I’ve never brought a date here.”
His words make me feel special, and I squeeze my legs together as desire builds. “Is that what this is?”
“I would like to think so.”
He still has n
o clue what I do for a living, but that’s my fault. I’ve allowed him to guess what I’m about and never once told him. I should tell him. When he called and I met him for dinner, I didn’t think I would care this deeply about him. And once I started to care, he lashed out.
I toy with a napkin on the table, thinking about us. “We need rules.”
“I’m game,” Baxter says.
“You haven’t heard my rules.”
“Tell me. I’ll do anything.”
I lift my brows and shake my head. “Oh, Baxter, you shouldn’t have given me free reign.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you’re going to go all crazy on me. I’ve known you for years.”
An appetizer of ravioli in a white sauce is placed on the table between us. We haven’t ordered anything, but I guess the staff really knows Baxter.
I take a bite and moan. “This is good.”
“Everything is good here.”
“Do you come here often?”
“I do. I like to think here.” Baxter takes a bite of food then puts his fork down.
I can’t help but tease him. “What if I say I want to tie you up and paddle you?”
His cheeks turn red. “Oh, I’d say yes.”
“You would like it.”
His nostrils flare and he shakes his head. I laugh. It’s fun being with Baxter, almost like old times.
He clears his throat before speaking. “Okay, give me the rules.”
I try to look like I know what I’m talking about. I haven’t even thought about rules before now. “No booty calls,” slips out first.
The corners of his mouth lift in a slight smile that makes my heart beat faster. “Fine, but if you want sex, you’re free to call me. I’ll say yes to your booty calls every time.”
I laugh and take a little sip of wine before eating another bite of the delicious food. He’s being funny and I like it. “No yelling either.”
He sobers and nods. When his gaze meets mine, it causes a shiver to skate down my back. “Okay, I’ll admit that’s going to be hard. I’ve done some deep introspection while you were away.”