Secrets, Lies & Imperfections

by Pamela L. Todd

  “What?”

  I looked up at Cassidy, who appeared as stunned as I felt that that was the only part of her speech I felt the need to comment on. “Last night. I wasn’t at work. I was asleep.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Vacation time? Why were you in bed and not out being a happy, single dude?”

  “I was fired.”

  There was a heavy pause as Cassidy seemed to process this. She shifted in her chair. “Why?”

  “Stealing booze.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t ask me to explain. I didn’t expect her to. She accepted my reason and that said it all. “So, your house is really nice. What made you want it?”

  I gave her a lopsided smile. “I figured I’d get more sleep in my own place. I’ve heard stories of newlyweds.”

  Cassidy smiled. “That’s sweet of you, to want to give Blake and Marley their own space. Is it a rental or…?”

  I shook my head once. “I bought it.”

  Her eyes widened for half a beat. “How grown up of you.”

  “It had to happen sometime. Can’t be Peter Pan forever.”

  Cassidy drained the last of her coffee and placed her empty mug on the coffee table. “Please don’t do that,” she said quietly.

  “Do what?” I asked with a frown.

  “Do that self-loathing and condescending thing.” Cassidy blew out a breath. “You do it all the time after an argument with your dad or Blake, like some weird type of self-preservation, like, if you agree with what they’re saying, then it doesn’t hurt as bad. I said a lot of horrible things to you, Seth. And I’m so, so sorry that I did. It was out of line.”

  “Are you sorry because you didn’t mean what you said or just sorry that you said it?”

  Cassidy opened her mouth to reply, but stopped herself at the last second. Sadness flooded her pale eyes and it was like a goddamn arrow to my gut.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “It shouldn’t matter what I think, Seth. Your own opinion of yourself is all that matters.”

  This time it was me with nothing to say. Of course it fucking mattered what she thought. Even now, when I’d been trying to put into practice what she was saying, it mattered what she thought. And I fucking wished it didn’t matter one little bit.

  Cassidy sighed and dropped her feet to the floor. “I guess I should call a cab. The girls will be home. I can get inside the apartment.”

  “Don’t be stupid. I can give you a ride.”

  Cassidy’s eyebrows drew together. “No, Seth you’ve done enough for me already. Seriously, a cab is fine.”

  I huffed. “Christ, just accept the favor, would you? I’m going to brush my teeth and grab a shirt. I’ll be right back.” As I scrubbed my teeth, I couldn’t decide which emotion was stronger—relief that shortly Cassidy would once again be out of my life and therefore I could start the purging of my soul process…the piecing myself back together after another hurricane Cassidy disaster—or the panic that squeezed my heart that shortly, Cassidy would once again be out of my life. And I didn’t think she would be walking, or calling, her way back into it again.

  * * * *

  We were quiet on the short drive to Cassidy’s apartment. There wasn’t much more that could be said, not really. But that didn’t stop my brain from fucking racing with thoughts. Seeing her again, being around her, having her in my bed, my house, was like a cruel kind of torment. It wasn’t so long ago that I would have just moved past the hurt that came along with her perusal of me and simply accepted it for what it was. Not unlike I’d been doing my entire life with Dad.

  But I wasn’t the same person that I used to be. And a lot of that was because of Cassidy herself. I had self-worth now. Though, last night, when I could have fucking happily sunk my cock into her, I sometimes wished I didn’t.

  Fucking maturity. Ruins lives.

  I pulled up in front of her apartment building. Cassidy unclipped her seatbelt but remained where she was. She hugged her purse to her chest and honestly…she looked as lost as I felt.

  “What’s going on?” I asked her.

  She shrugged and wouldn’t look at me. “I don’t know. I feel weird.”

  “Weird like ‘I might upchuck in my ex’s car’ or ‘I feel like a burrito for breakfast’?”

  Cassidy laughed under her breath. “Confused weird. I thought I had my shit together and figured out. Seeing you… Christ, what the hell was I thinking when I called you?”

  I tapped the steering wheel with the heel of my hand. “I need to say something right now, and I don’t want you to think I’m being an asshole when I do.” Blowing out a breath, I twisted around to look at her—this girl who tied me up in knots and still wore my T-shirt. “Last night I’m glad that you called me. I’m glad that, in whatever altered state of mind you were in, you knew you could still count on me. I will always be here if you need me. I’m only ever a phone call, a text, whatever, away. But, shit, Cassidy. Please don’t fucking call me, not unless you really need me. Because I definitely don’t have my shit together, and you dropping in and out of my life will fuck with my head.”

  A tear rolled down the center of Cassidy’s cheek.

  “Oh, shit,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry—”

  She held a hand up to stop me, and finally turned her head. I couldn’t pinpoint the look in her eyes but whatever it was, it broke my heart just that little bit more. “Don’t apologize, seriously. This isn’t your fault. And I understand completely. I’m really sorry, Seth. I was selfish last night.”

  I reached over to wipe away another stray tear. “Like I said, I’m glad that you knew you could count on me. I’m just not ready to see you all the time.”

  Cassidy nodded. “You know that it goes both ways, right? If you ever need anything…”

  I forced a smile. “I know.” We both knew I would never call her. But it didn’t come from a place of malice or spite. It came from a place of pain.

  She gave a soft sigh and launched herself across the center console to plant a quick kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, Seth.” Before I even had time to respond, Cassidy had thrown open the car door and was rushing up the steps of her apartment building as though she feared I’d chase her down.

  “Bye, Cass.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  After dropping Cassidy off at her apartment, I drove around for a while. Seeing her had stirred up a lot of feelings I hadn’t even known I was capable of before. The anger was gone. I wasn’t mad at her anymore… Hell, I understood where she’d been coming from that morning after the wedding. An old friend had told her I’d hit on her. She’d come to my house and seen another woman leaving it. I had a reputation. I could hardly blame her for making the leap in connections and believing other people instead of me.

  Except…

  Except…God…

  I couldn’t blame her, but that didn’t mean I had to accept it either. Self-worth wasn’t something that could be achieved overnight. It took time. Patience. And, in a weirdly ironic way, Cassidy herself had played a huge part in me realizing mine.

  For years I’d considered myself a fun-loving guy—never out to hurt anyone, but never out to make any lasting connections either. Getting involved with Cassidy had opened my eyes to how another person could make you feel about yourself. For a time at least, Cassidy had looked at me with eyes that saw something the rest of the world didn’t.

  And now she was the one who doubted me…but that didn’t mean I had to doubt myself. The temptation to shrug it off, to downplay the demise of our relationship and subsequent hurt she had caused, was a living, breathing presence. It would be the easy way to fall into some faceless woman’s bed, lose myself inside however many bodies it took to forget hers. To go out every night and drink, to sleep all day and only get up in time to do it all over again.

  But it wasn’t a temptation I wanted to give in to.

  I…valued myself more than that.

  Just like the club. It wasn’t mine. It didn’t belong to me.
It could have been a real easy gig—screw around with some paperwork when I absolutely had to, use my status to seduce whatever waitresses or customers I wanted. Hell, even do what they accused me of, and let my friends party for free.

  But instead I poured my heart and soul into it and found a goddamn work ethic. As the profits started to rise and the numbers hit capacity time and time again, it made me proud of the job I was doing. I’d taken something and turned it into something better.

  And even though they’d fired me, they could never take that away from me.

  I was a swirling dervish of fucking feelings. Disappointment. Sadness. Grief. Resentment. Longing. Regret. How long before a person imploded with emotion?

  Above it all, the most prominent that I desperately tried to ignore, was the useless hope that Cassidy would change her mind about me—that she would have an epiphany or whatever and realize I was exactly who I was, and to hell with all the other bullshit. I didn’t want someone to accept me.

  I wanted her.

  The driving didn’t help to clear my mind, but I guess it did help to focus it. I couldn’t change what had already happened, but I could determine what happened in my life from here on out. I could choose to mope around my house, waiting for something to happen, or I could go out there and make it happen.

  Nothing would get Cassidy back. She had made up her mind and I knew just how fucking stubborn that girl was. But there was a chance for me to have that kind of future with someone else. I couldn’t even picture myself with another person, but if, and if eventually, I did meet someone, did I want to be the same old Seth Hamilton—living the life handed to me, or did I want to be Seth Hamilton…self-made man?

  I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit it was Cassidy the unknown faceless future woman morphed into…miraculously coming to her senses and discovering the version of myself that was the very best that I could be.

  Good things didn’t come to those who waited. Good things come to those who get up off their ass and fucking work for it.

  Be the change you want to see in the world and all that shit.

  When I noticed I was around the corner from Fremont Street, I knew exactly where I was going to start.

  Cherry Pie had bittersweet memories attached to it now, but was I going to let a failed relationship keep me from the best goddamn ice cream in the city?

  Hell to the fucking no.

  So I parked the car and walked my ass to the ice-cream parlor and got the biggest, baddest, most disgustingly calorie-laden cone I could concoct.

  I liked to think, as I strolled back to the car—licking what would be the best sugar rush of my life—that it was this positive, life-affirming decision that led to my second great choice of the day.

  A guy in a suit was fixing a for sale sign in front of the near-derelict bar that Cassidy had mourned. I looked past him to the building, and like the last time I’d seen it, it began to take a new shape in my head. Getting a clearer look at it, I knew it had some serious potential.

  And needed a shit-ton of work.

  I grinned and took the first step forward.

  * * * *

  There were certain things I liked more than others. Kittens over bugs. Sunshine over rain. Candy over a dying phone battery. Home-cooked food over going hungry. And, as I discovered, being dragged away from perfecting my business plan to being tricked into a family get-together.

  I’d been sitting in front of the coffee table in my living room, running numbers and estimated projections, drawing up—badly, I hasten to add—floor plans to try to bring my ideas to life, when Marley hammered on my door.

  And Christ…that woman knew how to guilt a guy better than my mother. All it took was a flash of hurt in her big brown eyes when I’d told her I was too busy to attend the barbeque she was having the next afternoon and I was suckered into it like a giant fucking sucker.

  Which was how I found myself sipping a beer at the table in Blake’s backyard, avoiding the eyes of Dad, Mom, Blake and Henry and Max—aka, the two dudes who had fired me. Keeping my uber-trendy aviator shades on helped to avert my eyes. On my arrival, Dad had nodded his welcome and turned back to the other two businessmen and carried on his conversation. Marley had given me a strained smile, her big brown eyes now flashing a please-don’t-kill-me look.

  Mom had rushed to my side, cooing and scolding that I didn’t visit enough and how was I holding up? Her worry made me feel guilty and I knew deep down it wasn’t her fault that I was avoiding everyone. She was just a concerned mother. But the stark contrast between Dad’s brutal dismissal, and also his belief that I had committed what I was accused of, and Mom’s worry that I was somehow wasting away in the house I’d bought outright myself was both fucking gutting…and familiar. That was Dad, and that was Mom. She would worry that I would slowly disappear into the shadows, now that I no longer had either a good job or the love of a good woman to sustain me.

  So I sat in my goddamn chair and drank my goddamn beer and wondered just how long until it was socially acceptable for me to leave.

  Natasha, Blake’s replacement at The Marebello, gracefully lowered herself into the chair beside me. She placed her glass of wine in front of her and slid her sunglasses to the top of her head. “You look as thrilled to be here as I do.”

  The grin I gave her was so fake a blind guy wouldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding me? This is exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon.”

  She gave me a withering look and leaned back in her chair.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Why don’t you want to be here? I thought you got on great with Blake and Marley?”

  “I do. But it’s hard to relax when the big boss is lurking around,” Natasha said with a half-smile, cutting her eyes to where Dad stood.

  I snorted a laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it. Who could relax with that black cloud hanging over the day?”

  She nodded. “What are you doing with yourself these days? I heard things fell through at The Oasis.”

  And just like that, whatever rapport we may have started, jumped ship and drowned itself. “Absolutely nothing. I’m back to being the lazy son of a bitch Hamilton brother.”

  Natasha arched one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Now why do I find that hard to believe?”

  This time, the smile I gave her was genuine—cocky and arrogant. “Because you haven’t had the chance to get to know me yet, sweetheart.”

  She leaned her elbow on the table and picked up her wineglass. Natasha stared me down with hard eyes and I knew she had an assessing gaze that didn’t miss much. It took a certain breed of person to succeed in the hotel business, and whatever gumption it warranted, this woman had it in spades. “I’ve seen enough, darling. And I can already tell you’re not what you let everyone assume you are. So why don’t you grow the hell up and stop pretending?”

  Ouch. Not untrue. But ouch. I blew out a breath. “I’m working on it, all right?”

  Natasha’s hard gaze softened a fraction. “Work a little harder. You’ve got more stubborn people than me to convince.”

  I glanced at Dad and he was openly watching my interaction with Natasha. Probably worried I’d lead his new little protégée astray. “Yeah, tell me about it,” I mumbled.

  Natasha laughed softly under her breath. “Do you think we’ll actually get to eat at this barbeque we were invited to?”

  Swinging my gaze to where Blake and Marley manned the grill, I laughed along with her. The two newlyweds were more interested in each other than they were the food. Their mutt was stationary at their feet, having reaped the benefits of more than one ruined burger. At first glance, seeing the two of them together sent a stab of jealousy through me. That kind of feeling couldn’t be faked and it was sort of nice to witness that they literally couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Although, any more affection and we’d all be witnessing the conception of their first child.

  After releasing a slow breath, I pushed aside my own feelings and decided to just be happy for them. The
y’d been through more shit that any other couple I knew and came out the other side stronger for it. They deserved this happiness.

  “Maybe someone should relieve them of their cooking duties before that dog gets sick,” I said, winking at Natasha. I pushed out of my chair and sauntered over to the grill, where Blake’s hand was a hair’s breadth above Marley’s ass and she was curled into his side, laughing at whatever he was whispering in her ear. I snagged the spatula out of Blake’s hand, startling them both and making them spin around. “Why don’t I take over and you two can either go get some of this”—I gestured to them both, pressed against each other—“out of your systems before everyone gets a free show, or remember that you invited all these good people here today and are being exceptionally bad hosts.”

  Marley giggled and kissed Blake’s jaw. “Come on. He’s right. I don’t think I’ve even spoken to your mom yet.”

  Blake lifted his eyebrows. “So, option number one isn’t even being considered?”

  She laughed, loud and surprised, and swatted his chest. “Later, okay?”

  He heaved out a sigh and slung his arm around her shoulders. “Fine. You’d better make it a good one though.”

  “Don’t I always?” Marley asked with a purr.

  Blake started to reply but I held up the spatula. “Need I remind you both that little brother is still present? Please step away from the grill and no one will get hurt.”

  Marley laughed again and squeezed my forearm. “Sorry, Seth. We’ll go do the rounds and catch up later, okay?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Blake pressed a kiss into Marley’s hair, whispering something I couldn’t hear as they moved away from the grill. Whatever it was, caused Marley to gasp and flush, then dart a glance to the door leading into the house as though giving serious consideration to option number one.

  Smothering a laugh, I turned to the grill and set about salvaging the mess the two lovebirds had created. For a while I was lost in my task, enjoying the calm that always came over me when I cooked, even if it was flipping burgers or basting chicken wings with barbeque sauce. In fact, I was so lost in what I was doing, that I didn’t even notice when Henry appeared at my side.