by Corgan, Sky
“So how did you manage to get out of that?” I shift my weight, totally engaged in the story.
“Well, I told him that I deleted all of the email correspondence, that I met the man in person and didn't get any of his details. Of course, Holden made me give him a description of the guy which he used to send the police on a wild goose chase. I felt absolutely horrible about it, but what else could I do.” She shrugs. “He couldn't know.”
“Wow. That is incredibly elaborate just to keep something from your son.”
She's a lot smarter than I'm sure Holden gives her credit for. He seems like the type of guy who is so on top of everything. It's hard to believe that he wouldn't have found out about her little lie yet.
“I have my reasons.” She nods.
“Which are?” I quirk an eyebrow.
She cocks her head to the side as if the answer should be obvious. “I think you have a pretty good idea about the way that Holden is just from having breakfast with him.”
If she only knew how much time Holden and I have actually spent together. Back at Club Fet. At the play party. In my car...
I try not to blush as the memory of his face buried between my legs zips through my mind like a bolt of lightening. The thought that I could have had sex with him is strange. The thought that I wanted to is even more disturbing.
“He's something else,” I say uncomfortably.
The lines in her face grow taut for a moment. “I don't have much time left on Earth, and I don't want that time to be micromanaged by my son. If he knew that I have cancer...that I'm dying, he would have staff here to cook for me and clean for me. He'd turn me into an invalid—take away my sense of purpose. Not to mention that every move that I made would be monitored and reported back to him. And he'd nag me relentlessly if I did anything that he didn't think was appropriate for a sick woman, like working on my charities. I can't have that.” She shakes her head. “No, I want to live the rest of my life to the fullest, and in order to do that, Holden can't know that my life is coming to an end.”
I sigh, understanding her reasoning but still not liking it. “Couldn't you just tell him that? Surely, he would understand that these last few months, weeks, days, whatever you have left are precious to you and that you want to experience as much of life as you can?”
She closes her eyes wearily. “I wish that were the case. You don't know my son like I do though. He's one of those people who thinks he always knows best. Always.”
I could definitely see that. Holden is willful if nothing else. So far, he's been pretty relentless about trying to get me fired or to quit. Before, it was my own stubbornness that kept me by Ann's side. Now, the job means so much more to me.
For as much as I know this will kill him when Ann is gone, and for as much as I know that there's a part of me that will regret keeping her secret, Holden can't find out about this. Hopefully, he'll keep his distance and I won't have many opportunities to tell him.
“Alright.” I nod slowly. “If this is what you want, then I'll do my best to understand. It's just kind of hard, coming from where I'm coming from.” I glance up at her, catching her gaze.
“I know, dear.” She smiles at me in thanks. “But your situation was different.”
“It was. I just wish I would have known, you know? I have so many regrets.” I wrap my arms around myself, feeling a flood of unpleasant emotions invading my chest. “There are so many things I would have done differently had I known my mother was going to pass away.”
“I'm sure that Holden will have no shortage of regrets.” She inhales deeply. “But that is no fault of mine.”
I'm taken aback by her seemingly cruel words. It's as if she doesn't care that this decision is going to scar her son for the rest of his life.
Ann continues, “This is why people should appreciate each other all the time. You never know when someone that you love is about to be ripped from the world.”
“I suppose you're right. Still.” I look out the window. There's a tube bird feeder outside covered in birds. They're chirping and pecking, so full of life, completely unaware of the solemn conversation taking place only a few yards away. It almost makes it seem like two different worlds.
“Enough talk about depressing stuff.” She taps the table. “My son may be a pain sometimes, and I might not want him to know about this, but I do want to spend as much time with him as possible before I go. He's all I have left in this world. And so, I'm going to have him over for lunch today.”
CHAPTER TWO
HOLDEN
I slide into the driver's seat of my Ferrari with a sigh before hastily pulling the seatbelt over my chest. I really don't have time for this again, leaving the office in the middle of the day to have lunch with my mother and that infuriating woman. It's not so much that I don't have time. Hell, I own the company. I can pretty much do whatever the fuck I want. It's just that this is tedious and nonsensical.
It's like my mother is trying to prove to me that Piper is a good choice for her employee by forcing us to spend more time together. That's not going to change my opinion of her. This only serves to piss me off and make me dislike her more.
I should have just said no, I think as I pull out of the parking lot. But then I would have lost out on an opportunity to show Piper that I mean business when it comes to getting rid of her. I'm going to make this lunch as miserable and uncomfortable for her as I possibly can. Maybe then they'll both see that this isn't going to end until I get my way.
I spin a web of cruel words all the way to my mother's house. By the time I pull up into the driveway, I have a full arsenal.
When Piper opens the door to me, I look her up and down and snort. The dress she's wearing is entirely inappropriate. Too tight. Too short. My eyes are instantly drawn to her cleavage, and I think of those perfect tits, of how her skin tasted as I took her nipple into my mouth and sucked on it. My cock twitches from the memory, and I silently curse myself for wanting her.
“Do you come to work in the same clothes you go out in?” I step past her, not even bothering to glance back.
The door closes a bit too hard behind us, and I smirk at the thought that I'm already getting under her skin. This might be a fun lunch after all.
“Good evening, Mother.” I stride toward the dining room to find my mother sitting in a chair at the end of the table. She stands to hug me, and I give her a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling out the chair next to her and taking a seat. “Is there a particular reason why I was called away from work again?”
“Called away from work again?” Her expression turns confused.
I cross my ankle over my knee. “As you'll recall, I was just here the other day for breakfast.”
“You came over on your own that time. I had nothing to do with it.” She quirks an eyebrow. “And what's wrong with me wanting to see my son, hm?”
“Nothing except for that I have work to do and can't keep running over here every time you feel lonely. Isn't that what you hired what's her name for?” I gesture absentmindedly towards the kitchen.
Just as I do, Piper comes around the corner carrying two plates of food. She slides one in front of me, and I give it a disgusted look. It appears to be some kind of fish crusted in almonds. The edges are a little burnt; she clearly cooked it for too long. Beside it is a small pile of spinach and clumpy mashed potatoes.
I glare up at her. “At least, I don't have to worry about getting food poisoning from the fish not being fully cooked.”
She pouts mockingly. “Oh, Mister Longworth, I thought you were more cultured than that. You can eat raw tilapia without getting sick. It's called Izumidai.”
I roll my eyes. “Izumidai is Japanese. Tilapia is tilapia in English.” I redirect my attention to my mother, pointing back at Piper. “Are you really going to let your employee talk to me like that?”
Mom draws her hand up to her eyes. “The two of you. Please. All I want is to have a nice lunch.”
I glance back at Piper,
and she seems to deflate instantly. For a second, I feel guilty, but then I remember my purpose. I can't let this go.
“Seriously, though, way to pick 'em. It's obvious that she isn't good at keeping you company since you needed me to come over here and entertain you for lunch. And she damn sure can't cook.” I push the plate aside.
“Would you just try it before complaining?” My mother lets out an exasperated sigh before picking up her fork.
“Sure. I'm sure it will taste just as horrible as it looks.” I force a sarcastic smile.
We wait for Piper to join us. The tension in the room is so thick that you couldn't cut it with a knife. Piper's body language mirrors my mother's. They both look stiff, on edge. I'm the only one relaxed.
We join hands and my mother says grace. Piper hovers her palm over mine, barely touching me. Her eyes flit up to meet mine in the middle of the prayer, and I smirk wickedly. She doesn't react. She simply lowers her gaze until the prayer is done and we're ready to begin eating.
I pick at the fish and it flakes apart, overcooked and dry. When I stick a forkful into my mouth, my taste buds are beyond underwhelmed. It's about the blandest thing I've ever tasted. The spinach is similarly under-spiced. And the mashed potatoes...I'm pretty sure a child could have made them better. Piper definitely can't cook.
“Well, I'm done.” I fold my napkin and place it on the table after I've sampled everything on my plate.
“You didn't hardly eat at all.” My mother looks at me wide-eyed.
“I can't eat this.” I gesture to the food. “It's inedible.”
“If you'd like to cook, then by all means.” Piper gives me a tight-lipped smile.
“That's your job, sweetheart, or did you forget your job description already. I'll add that to your list of shortcomings. Bad memory.”
“It's not inedible. It's perfectly good food.” I can hear anger edging into my mother's voice.
“Perfectly good?” I snort, cocking my head back. “This stuff isn't fit for a dog. You're going to have to send her off to cooking school if you don't want to eventually end up getting food poisoning. Of course, if it were me, I would just fire her and hire a chef. She's obviously not good at anything.”
“That's enough!” Mom slams her hand down on the table.
“I'm serious.” I push my chair back. “The girl can't cook. Whether you want to admit it or not, we all know it's true. And if she were any good at keeping you company then I wouldn't be here. You could have had me come over when I was off of work, but you didn't. You wanted me here now, and that must mean that she can't even keep you entertained.”
“Holden, that's not it at all.” Mom shakes her head.
“It's not? Well if you're this damn needy, then get a dog. Some of us actually have to work. We don't all have the luxury of sitting on our asses all day doing nothing.” I stand, glaring down at her.
“Holden, please.” She looks up at me with tear-brimmed eyes, the fight leaving her completely.
I'm too angry with the situation to have any sympathy. She did this to herself. She knew I didn't like Piper and yet she invited me over when Piper was here anyway.
“I'm sorry, Mother, but I don't have time for bad company and shitty cooking. I wish you were stronger. Strong enough to see that you deserve better.” I cast a hateful glance in Piper's direction. Her gaze is fixed on my mother, her jaw set tight. I can tell that it's taking everything in her not to say something. Part of me wants to push them further, to make Piper explode. The fact that my mother is about to cry keeps me from it though.
“Thanks for the shitty meal.” I turn my aggression towards Piper. “I'll have a pizza sent over later so that she doesn't starve to death.” I push my chair in so hard that it hits the table and makes it shake, knocking over a vase of flowers sitting in the center and spilling water everywhere. “You better clean that up.” I nod to it before turning and walking out of the room.
CHAPTER THREE
PIPER
Inside, I'm shaking so badly that I can barely contain my anger. My hand trembles with the urge to pick up the vase that spilled and throw it as hard as I can at the back of Holden's head. Even though he deserves it, Ann would definitely fire me if I did.
I grab my napkin from my lap and sop up the water on the table. The entire time, my heart breaks for Ann. She's full-out sobbing now. What little nurturing instincts that I have tell me that I should comfort her. But my need to set Holden straight is far stronger.
As soon as the majority of the water is soaked up, I drop the napkin and fly around the side of the table to follow Holden. I half-expect Ann to call back to me, but she doesn't.
“Hey!” I yell to him when I walk outside. He's already climbing into his car. If I had waited even a minute longer, he would have been gone.
“I've had enough of you for one day.” He sinks into the driver's seat and closes the door.
I half-stride, half-run over to the passenger's side, fling open the door, and kneel on the seat, reaching over to grab Holden by the tie and yank it so hard that his whole body lurches towards me. “Don't you fucking talk to your mother like that ever again when I'm around. Do you hear me?”
“What the fuck is your problem? Get the fuck out of my car, psycho!” He leans away from me, brushing my hand off of his tie and pressing his back against the door.
“You're my problem. You're her problem.” I point back to the house. “She's inside right now bawling her eyes out because of how you treated her.”
“This wouldn't have even happened if she had just fired you like I told her to or if you would have just quit. So if you really think about it, this was your fault.” A smug grin crosses his perfect face, and it takes everything in me not to slap it off.
I stare at him is disbelief. “Do you take pleasure in being an asshole? Is that what this is? Do you get off to hurting her? She loves you. She wanted you to come over because she misses you and wants to spend time with you. Why is it so fucking hard for you to understand that? You are a bastard as a son. An absolute bastard,” my words come out in a breathy rage.
“Our relationship is none of your business. None. Do you understand that?” He crosses his hands dramatically in front of him as if trying to make a point.
I calm slightly, amazed at how oblivious he is. “I understand that you just made one of the kindest, best people that I've ever known feel like complete shit because you're selfish and too consumed with getting your way to care about how anyone else feels. And I also understand that you're going to regret this very soon.”
“Is that a threat?” He lets out a short laugh in amusement.
All I feel is hollowness and pity. Ann was right when she said he was going to have no shortage of regrets. It's strange watching him right now, seeing the mistake he just made and knowing that he has no idea that he made it or what I'm talking about.
“Holden,” my voice softens. “You really need to appreciate your mother more.”
“I appreciate her plenty. It's you I have a problem with.” He settles back into his seat, casting a sideways glance at me.
“Whether you have a problem with me or not doesn't matter. I'm not going anywhere. Your mother needs me.” I can't emphasize the word enough.
“For what? Did you not just hear everything I said in there? Did you not taste your own food? You're incapable of giving her the care that she needs.”
I turn away for a moment. He's right on the cooking front. That food was beyond bland. I really should have tasted everything while I cooked it like they do on cooking shows, but I didn't think about it until afterward. By then, it was too late. I cringed when I set that plate in front of him, knowing he'd have something negative to say about it. I was honestly surprised that Ann didn't agree with him. More proof of her benignity.
“You're right. I'm not a very good cook.” I shrug. “I'll be the first to admit it. That's not why Ann hired me, though. She hired me because she didn't want you micromanaging her life.”
&
nbsp; “I don't micromanage her life.” The look he gives me suggests that he thinks even the notion is preposterous.
“She says that you do. She doesn't want you to hire someone for her because she doesn't want them reporting back on every little thing that she does.”
He rolls his eyes. “Like she does anything important. Gardening. Charity work. Watching television. Like I give a shit about that stuff.”
“It is what it is.” I sigh, thankful that it seems like I'm finally getting through to him.
“That doesn't change the fact that you're not qualified.” He shakes his head.
“It doesn't. But I don't have to be qualified. I just have to be trustworthy and make your mother happy.” I offer him a smile.
“That's not good enough.” His expression is stern. “One way or another, I'm going to get rid of you. We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. That's entirely up to you.”
His threat puts me back on edge. I've been as honest with him as I can be without disclosing too much information, and he's still being a complete jerk. I know now that there's nothing I can do to placate him.
“You are not getting rid of me,” I tell him finally. “And if you ever make your mother cry in front of me again...” Anything I could possibly say would be a lie, that I would hurt him, that I would stalk him to the end of his days and make him regret it. He'll regret it on his own eventually.
“You'll what?” He tests me with a smirk.
“You don't want to know.” I climb out of the car, tired of bluffing. To my surprise, he grabs me by the arm and pulls me back.