Prude

by Hilaria Alexander

  That would explain the stupid rumors.

  “I know what people have been saying, and as I started signing more promising authors and having more success as an agent, the rumors have only gotten worse. As if he was the one handing over writers for me to sign? What I’ll say is that I have really learned a lot from him, and even though my father has always refused to meet me, I’m happy to at least have my grandfather in my life,” he says, but the words seem veiled with regret.

  “But, wait . . . If he accepted you, and after the test believed you were his grandson, why were you two never open about it?”

  “I know what you mean. That’s something I never really quite understood about him,” he says, shrugging. “Sounds very old-fashioned, doesn’t it? Like I’m the bastard child he doesn’t want people to know about, right?”

  Ouch. That must hurt. It would hurt me, I think.

  “No, Ben, that’s not what I meant . . . I just think it might be hard to keep such a thing a secret for so long,” I say apologetically.

  “I know. I think at that point I was happy enough with him being a presence in my life that I didn’t care about anyone else knowing but my mother. Also, I think he thought his son would maybe come around, take the initiative and recognize me officially, but that never happened until last week.”

  “So did your father finally change his mind too?” I ask.

  “No, not at all. The man really is a bastard. He is the most heartless motherfucker I have ever met in my life. What changed was that Mr. Hunter was ready to transfer ownership of Biblio.”

  “But you said your father had no interest in running it,” I say, perplexed.

  “Yes, he doesn’t have any plans of leaving London or his company. He was probably going to sell Biblio off. But now things have changed,” he says.

  “How so?”

  “Because Ezra Hunter just transferred ownership of Biblio to me.”

  Chapter 27

  “YOU’RE THE new owner of Biblio?” I ask him, shocked.

  “We went to London to sign the papers. Sure, we could have done it via mail, but my grandfather wanted to see his son, and I wanted to meet my father at last. Needless to say, part of me hoped that some spark would ignite in my father’s heart and maybe he would want to get to know me,” he says, looking lost.

  I reach for his hand. “That didn’t happen,” he adds, looking into my eyes. But he smiles and says, “On the plus side, you’re looking at the president and new owner of Biblio.”

  “Wow!” I say in awe, still trying to wrap my head around it.

  “I know!” he says, smiling and looking like he is waiting for me to say something else.

  “I mean, Ben, that is amazing. It’s just a lot to process,” I say, smiling uneasily.

  “I bet. I’m not done yet. There’s just one last part to my story . . . or confession, whatever you want to call it.”

  I don’t know what else he has to add to the heaping pile of revelations he just told me.

  “Go on,” I say, holding my knees to my chest.

  “I have been working . . . undercover for Biblio for the last couple of years,” he says cautiously.

  “You what?” I blurt out, raising my voice. I instantly sit up straight again, and now my eyes feel like they are going to pop out of my head in disbelief. What the hell?

  He scratches the back of his head, suddenly uneasy.

  “Well, my grandfather wasn’t just going to sign over the company without teaching me the ropes. So, on top of my job, I have been working at Biblio too . . . I know it’s not the most ethical behavior and I could probably get in trouble with Matthews if it comes out, but I don’t think it will happen. I just resigned before I left for London.”

  “You resigned? What about our contract? What about my book? What the fuck is going on?” I ask, even more confused.

  “Have you not read your contract? It has an At Will termination clause. Since I haven’t done my job, you’re free to go,” he says, shrugging.

  “My attorney read it,” I say, dismissively.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he says smirking.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, because you’re probably willing to come back to Biblio, right?”

  “Because my boyfriend is the boss? I don’t think so. That’s even more of a reason not to come back to Biblio, frankly.”

  “Prudence, we don’t have to discuss this right now. Take your time, but you know that you would have everything you want there. Why go anywhere else?”

  “Exactly because of this,” I say, pointing at him. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable coming back to Biblio. I would get everything I want? Everyone will say it’s because I’m sleeping with the boss.”

  “Come on, take it easy,” he says, smiling and completely missing the change in my mood. “Who cares what people think? And it’s not like this wasn’t the plan all along anyway.”

  “The plan? I was part of a plan?”

  “Prudence, it’s not like that. You’re misunderstanding me,” he says calmly, but it does nothing to reassure me. “When you left, it was all so sudden, and I knew we were not getting the truth from Cora. So I decided to check for myself and yes, the plan was to bring you back to Biblio. That was the plan all along.”

  “So you took me out, not to offer me a contract with you, but to get the scoop on your company.”

  “And to get my author back, eventually,” he says nonchalantly, and I’m sure in his head he means it as a compliment, but what I hear instead is him talking about me like something he owns.

  “So, you have just been messing with me this whole time,” I whisper. I can’t even make my voice sound steady. I get up from the couch and walk away from him. He follows me and takes my hands in his.

  “Are you kidding me? How could you even say that?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know what to believe anymore. You just told me you had an agenda when we first went out.”

  “Yeah, that first night. But Biblio was supposed to get you to come back, but then . . . I messed up. I wasn’t supposed to call you back, or even text you. I knew you probably weren’t going to contact me, so I was going to let someone at Biblio handle it and bring you back after Cora left,” he says, pausing. “But I couldn’t do that . . . I couldn’t stay away from you. We had been around each other in the past, and I have to say, I had never felt anything for you before . . . until I saw you that night . . . and then the next morning at beach,” he says.

  I involuntarily blush thinking about our first semi-naked, up-close-and-personal encounter. I peek up at him through my eyelashes, and he smiles tentatively at me.

  “God, you were so beautiful that morning,” he says with a heartwarming smile, looking straight into my eyes. “And I had a great time with you the night before. I loved talking to you. You seemed so genuine, so honest. Not the type of woman I’m used to. I couldn’t get you out of my head. All I knew was that I wanted to be around you, I wanted to get to know you. It wasn’t time for me to take over the company yet, so the only way I could be around you was to get you to sign with me. I did what I had to do to be close to you. I don’t think that’s such a bad thing, is it?”

  I close my eyes, because I can’t look at him any longer. I wish the words he was saying were enough to outweigh everything else, including the disappointment and the sadness, but they can’t.

  “I understand you wanted to be with me, but the entire time we have been together, you’ve been lying to me,” I say, my voice breaking, and now I cannot stop the tears as they begin to fall.

  I can’t even look at him without feeling my heart start to slowly crumble.

  “No, Prudence, it’s not like that,” he says, alarmed, his hand reaching out to cradle my face.

  I back away from him.

  “It’s exactly like that. Sure, you had secrets you had to keep, but let’s look at the facts; you lied to me, both on a personal and professional level. I don’t know how I feel about
all this. Right now it’s just too much to take. I need . . . I need some time to think it all over.”

  “Prudence, I might have lied to you about some things, but I never lied about the way I feel about you. I love you,” he says, brushing his fingers across my cheek.

  “I need to go. I need time alone to think,” I say, trying to get away, but he keeps a hold on my wrist.

  I grab his face in my hands and look at him. “Ben, please let me go. I need to think on my own.”

  “Prudence, don’t go. We can talk this through . . .”

  “Ben, please. Let me go.”

  Chapter 28

  IT’S NEVER taken me so long to walk the three blocks back to my apartment. I’m still going over everything in my head, and I still don’t know what to think. What do you do when you find out that the person you love has been lying to you all along?

  I wish I could rewind and go back to that first night in the Hamptons. Would everything be different now if I had never gone out to dinner with him? And what if I never replied to his texts a couple of days after? What if I had shut the door on having anything to do with him at all? We wouldn’t have happened then. There would have been no us. No summer with a wonderful boyfriend who made me feel more loved than I have ever been.

  The thought of that is even more unbearable than the disappointment I am feeling right now.

  No, I wouldn’t want to go back. I just wasn’t expecting a shit-storm like this. I feel like I only knew one side of him, but I can’t shake the feeling that I have been played.

  I’m exhausted. How different today is from last time he came back from a trip, when we were just getting together. I cannot make my mind go there. Those were much happier times. I can’t believe it was only two months ago. It feels like we have been together longer, but we haven’t. Two months is not even a relationship. It’s an affair, a summer fling. Would it hurt less if I thought of him that way? As a fling? Don’t kid yourself, Prudence. Good luck getting over him.

  When I get to my apartment, there is only one thing I want to do: peel my dress off and throw myself on the bed.

  I get up hours later, but didn’t get any sleep. I just stared off into space at the ceiling. I grab my phone and see I have two missed calls from Anya and several messages from Ben. I want to call Anya back, but what am I going to tell her? That Ben is related to Ezra Hunter? It’s not my place to tell. I don’t even know how or when they plan to announce it.

  I don’t want to read Ben’s messages, but I don’t think ignoring them is an option either. Brace yourself, Prudence.

  Ben: Prudence, I need to see you.

  Ben: I knew this was going to be complicated but I hope we can get past it.

  Ben: I might have had to keep things from you, but I never lied about my feelings. I love you.

  I feel myself tearing up reading those three messages and know that if I start, it will be the end of me. I put some clothes on and go out for a walk.

  When I get back, I think I know what to do. I find Ben sitting in front of the door of my apartment. Oh boy. I don’t want to do this right now, but maybe it’s for the best. I hold my hands out so he can pull himself up. I smile when our eyes meet and he leans in for a quick hug.

  When he releases me, I can see he is trying to read my face.

  “Come on,” I say softly, “let’s go inside.”

  “What have you decided?” he asks.

  “Sit.” I tell him. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Get to the point, Prudence.”

  He looks worried. I think he knows he is not going to win this argument. The damage is done.

  As soon as I close the door, I take a few steps towards the desk and lean against it. The memory of a steamy, sexy evening spent on this desk flashes before my eyes, and I have to quickly move away from it. I need to put as much distance as possible between us.

  I can’t bear to look him in the eye, afraid I will lose my focus. But I have made a decision and I intend to stick with it.

  “Listen, I had time to think about everything you told me, and although I would have preferred you hadn’t lied to me this whole time, I think I do understand, to an extent, your position.”

  “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you say that. The way you left, earlier, made me think you couldn’t get past it.”

  His eyes shoot up and meet mine with something resembling a grin on his face. In an instant, he is back to the Ben I know, the one I love.

  Focus, Prudence, focus.

  Instinctively, I smile too and bite my lip.

  Dammit, Prudence! Focus.

  “Yes, I tried to understand your reasons. However, that’s not the point,” I say, suddenly serious.

  His face clouds over.

  “Then what’s the point, Prudence? Get to it.”

  “It’s a little complicated to explain. You see, when I first started writing, I had no idea this would be my career, but then, with a little bit of luck and friends in all the right places, it was, and I have loved every minute of it. I know it’s because I have a little tiny bit of talent, but there is this voice inside of me, this nasty little voice that never stops nagging me. It’s been telling me for years that everything I have worked so hard for, all of my success, only happened because a friend gave me an opportunity. Telling me that I never earned anything on my own. Throughout my career, I was lucky enough to never know what it meant for my work to be rejected, ever,” I say, feeling confident enough now to sit by him, and he takes my hand in his.

  “After that whole mess with Cora, I really started questioning myself. I kept going over and over her words in my head, and it led me to do what I never do; I went online and started reading the reviews, all of them. Every single one. The really good ones, but mostly the really, really bad ones. I know I shouldn’t have, but I was testing myself, in a way. I wanted to know what I was doing wrong according to the readers. Everything. So I started thinking, questioning, if I could change, if I could be better. Maybe I had relied too much on the same good old thing and I hadn’t been challenging myself enough. But at that point, my confidence was so low that I didn’t believe I was able to write anything better. Then you came around. You gave me the boost of confidence that I needed. You made me want to be better for my readers, but mainly for myself. And then you made me feel beautiful, sexy and loved . . .” I smile and blush, thinking about all the days we had together.

  “I will never forget that,” I say, my voice wavering.

  “Why does it sound like you’re breaking up with me?” he asks, lowering his eyes to our hands, his hold strengthening on mine.

  “Because I am,” I say, almost whispering.

  He keeps looking down at our hands and shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Listen to me,” I pause, taking a deep breath, “this is for the best. Right now, I have to focus on my book and you have a lot on your plate. I also got Matt involved in this thing, and I want to find the best fit. But more importantly, I don’t want to sign with your company and feel like I got lucky twice. Continue doubting myself as a writer, you know? And I don’t want to deal with the rumors. I can’t. I don’t think it would be good for you, either. It would probably give a bad impression of what kind of boss you’re going to be, don’t you think? The one who gives preferential treatment to the woman he is sleeping with . . . do you really want that?”

  “You’re not the woman I’m sleeping with. You’re my girlfriend.”

  “Same thing.”

  “It’s not,” he says, shaking his head no.

  “Ezra Hunter would probably agree with me.”

  He is silent when I mention his grandfather. Mr. Hunter is a savvy businessman, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had the same outlook I have on the situation.

  “I said earlier I understand why you had to lie . . . but see, the way that I am, it would forever bother me, and I’d be asking myself all the time, Is he lying to me? Is he telling the truth? Is my work really that good? Does he re
ally love me? I can’t put myself through that.”

  “If you doubt my love for you, I obviously haven’t done a very good job showing how important you are to me, Prudence. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. I don’t know if I should be more upset by the fact that you want to break up with me, or that you don’t trust my feelings,” he says, lowering his head and taking a deep breath.

  I feel pretty crappy after that confession. Am I making a mistake? Then, his blue eyes are back on me.

  “If you break up with me, go on and sign the contract with Biblio. I will stay out of your way, let you work with whomever you want, and you’ll get everything you need,” he says, trying to reason. “You were never supposed to leave. You were supposed to renew your contract with us before Cora made that huge mess. I’m sure no one will make any association between us . . . not that many people knew we were together anyway,” he pauses to look at me.

  His fingers brush my knuckles as he softly says, “You know no one else, no other company, is going to care about this project as much as I do. Let this be the first book I get published. That way . . . maybe it won’t feel like I lost everything. Maybe I can delude myself into thinking I still get to keep a piece of you.”

  Chapter 29

  “COME ON, I know something that will make you feel better,” Andrew says, trying to shake me off the couch.

  “Please don't say working out!” I reply, whining.

  “But it's true,” he says, while I give him a death stare.

  I’m lying face down on the couch, in my pajamas. The last two days have been filled with lots of ice cream, chips, binge-watching Sons of Anarchy, and hysterical fits of crying. I don’t even know where that came from. I was doing so well. I didn’t shed a tear in front of Ben, or for the whole day after our breakup. I think when the realization kicked in, that was when the tears started rolling.