Getting in my car, rage tearing through me, I peel out of the garage. Weaving in and out of traffic, I grip the steering wheel so tight I feel like it’s going to snap in my hands. My mind is racing in so many directions right now. I’m consumed with anger. It’s ripping me apart, burning in my chest, making my body shake. I thought I’ve felt rage before, I thought it’s been wrapped around me most of my life. That it’s kept me in this dark hole. But I was wrong, so fucking wrong. Tonight, right now, I truly know what it feels like.
I look up at the front of his building and throw the car in park. Going inside, I get on the elevator and ride it to the thirty-sixth floor. I hold my hands in fists as I get closer, but when I push my way into his office I shove them into my pockets. I’m more than certain that I will end up shoving my fist down his throat, so I need to keep them hidden. I only remove one to knock on his door and walk in.
“It’s about God damn time,” he hisses, turning to face me. “Son of a…”
“Surprise asshole. I know you were waiting on your spy, but I wanted to be the one to deliver the news,” I say as I stalk closer to him.
Keeping his cowardly back to the wall he moves closer to his desk. “Get the hell out of my office.”
Shaking my head, I let out an evil laugh. “Why don’t you get the fuck out of my office?” I look around the room. He’s got pictures of him with some of the most powerful people I know, pictures of his family, and behind his desk hanging is his worthless degree. I turn my attention back to him and grin. “My dad says hi.”
His eyes widen and he sits down, I’m sure it’s because his traitorous legs give out on him. “What?”
“What’s wrong Pete? Couldn’t get your spy to figure out who I was?” I ask, pulling my hands out of my pockets. I mash them onto his desk and he jumps. “Nervous?”
Masking his terrified face, he leans back in his chair. “Nope.”
“You should be. You should be shitting yourself seeing me stand in front of you. I know everything and when I say everything, I mean every single fucking thing.” Leaning a bit further across the desk, I watch him go to grab his phone. Being younger and faster, I get to it first and smash it against the wall. “Not getting your one phone call, Pete.”
“I don’t understand,” he says, playing dumb.
“Oh you don’t understand. Let me explain. You took everything from me, so now I’m taking everything from you. I was going to wait until tomorrow and give you the good news, but considering your spy said you were waiting for her, I thought I’d surprise you. Tomorrow at eight in the morning, I will own your company. My first action will be to fire you,” I say, trying to keep myself from reaching across the desk and ripping his beating heart out of his chest.
“I’ll fight it, have you tied up in so much litigation you’ll be begging me to keep it,” he says, crossing his arms.
Laughing, I knock everything off his desk in one stroke. “Don’t even try to act like you have the upper hand here. You didn’t even know who I was. You had to send in a spy and even she couldn’t figure it out. But looking at me you have to admit it’s like looking at my dad, or at least the last time you saw him. You remember that day, don’t you? You did that dirty business deal and let my father take the fall for it. You had no fucking problem hiding behind your business partner, letting him get arrested and ripped away from his family. Letting him sit in court alone to fight for his freedom. Watching his sick wife and teenage son break down when they found him guilty. Found him guilty for stealing all that money, for bad business deal after bad business deal, which he had no idea about. While you, you fucking coward, got rid of all the evidence that pointed to you. Sounding familiar?”
He’s sweating and I feel so much satisfaction knowing I’m getting to him. “Get out,” he whispers.
“Oh but I’m just getting started.” Walking over to the pictures on the wall, I pull them off one by one. “While you were living your life, guilt free of letting my father take the fall, shaking hands with the New York elites, making more of a name for yourself,” I say, letting the pictures crash to the ground, glass scattering across the floor. “My mom should have been fighting for her life, but she was too busy fighting to get her husband’s name cleared. She lost both fights. Do you know what happened next?”
He searches my face, but never says a word. Just sits there like the piece of worthless shit he is.
“Because of you, I was left with no one. Cancer took my mom while my innocent father sat in jail. I’ve been alone since I was eighteen years old. I didn’t have any money, the money we had was spent trying to take you down. So, I lost the house and lost my car. I spent a year sleeping on the streets, until I had enough money to rent a shitty, cockroach filled apartment. Have you ever had to sleep on the street, Pete? Ever have people beat the shit out of you for sport because they are hungry and know you have a job? Ever need to stay awake all night to make sure no one killed you for the little money you had? Ever cry behind a dumpster you just ate out of?” I say through gritted teeth.
He adjusts his position and clears his throat. “I’m sorry you went through that, but none of that was my fault. Now get out of my office.”
“Can’t do that Pete, because you see, this is where the story gets good.” I stalk back over and stand in front of his desk, crossing my arms. “I was a busboy, saving every penny I made to pay for my shit apartment. And one night when I was leaving work, there was this guy pacing outside. I heard him on his phone yelling because his assistant quit. Hanging up, he looked at me and grinned. He asked if I wanted to make some extra money. I didn’t care what it was I said yes. He gave me his card and I took a chance. Spent some of my rent money getting a haircut and the cheapest suit I could find. I was a glorified secretary, but that didn’t matter because I was working for Stan Watson.”
His eyes nearly bug out of his head when I say the name. He’s one of the most successful men in the country and he is the reason I’m where I am. He taught me everything I needed to know about business and gave me a loan when it was time to go out on my own. I repaid him within six months. And I knew at that point my one and only goal was to find the man that destroyed my life and destroy his. That’s exactly what I did. I busted my ass buying and selling real estate. The kid from the streets was no longer recognizable. I had money, a lot of money.
“After I made a name for myself, with my mother’s maiden name because I knew you’d know my real name, I spent my time trying to get my dad’s name cleared. Do you know what happened, Pete?” I ask, my body shaking with anger.
“I’m done with this,” he says, standing up. He tries to get around the desk, so I stand my much larger body in front of the door.
“You’re not leaving. You’re gonna listen to the rest of my story. Don’t you know the ending is always the best part?”
“You’re delusional,” he yells.
“And you’re going to want to sit down for this part,” I say. “I put out feelers to see if you had the original documentation anywhere and I was told you more than likely did. Which lead me to hiring a very expensive attorney. But while my top notch team was searching, dad died. He had a heart condition, but being in jail they never found it. You are to blame for the death of both my parents,” I hiss.
“Bullshit,” he yells.
I turn around and put my fist through the wall, because if I didn’t I was going to take him out. “Fuck yes and my anger only drove me harder. I spent years looking for what I needed from you and a few weeks again, I got it.” He shakes his head and I laugh. “You can shake your pathetic head all you want, but it’s true. I have all the original documentation from when you worked with my father. I have all the proof. So,” I say, smiling. “You aren’t just going to lose your business, you’re going to jail.”
“Fuck you,” he whispers.
I get my phone out of my pocket to call my lawyer and let him know what’s going on. I knew if I called before, he would have told me not to come here. But fuck t
hat. I wanted to be here to see his face when I told him exactly what happened. I wanted him to know what he did and explain it in painful detail. Now though, Jerry can come with the cops and handle it. I’ve said my piece, almost.
After hanging up with Jerry, I nod to his chair. “Sit the fuck down.” On shaky legs he does as I tell him. “You’ve stolen everyone I love away from me, everyone. I don’t want an apology, I got what I want. But you’re going to apologize to Brooke. You won’t say anything else other than you’re sorry and her studio is safe.” Picking up the phone he has on his desk, I dial Brooke’s number and hand it to him. “You owe her this.”
Chapter Twenty
Brooke
Locking up the studio, I hail a cab and climb in. Every day since I walked out of Owen’s penthouse, I hope to open a cab door and see him getting in the other side. But considering it’s been a month, I’m doubtful at this point it will happen. Which just makes my broken heart hurt that much more.
He obviously went and handled Pete, because when I got the phone call of him apologizing to me and telling me my studio was safe, I knew Owen was behind it. It kills me knowing that even though I hurt him so badly, he still wanted to take care of that for me.
I’ve tried several times to get in touch with Owen, but my calls go straight to voicemail and my texts go unanswered. I don’t blame him, I lied. There is nothing worse. Actually there is...falling in love with the guy you lied to. How do you recover from that?
I reach into my purse for my phone and send Olivia a quick text telling her to be at my place in an hour. It’s girls night and we are going to get drunk, watch chick flicks, and apparently talk. She refused to let me keep myself locked away any longer, so it was either this or go out drinking. I’m not ready to go out.
Once I’m home, I take a quick shower and toss on some jeans and a T-shirt. Throwing my wet hair into a bun, I go sit on the couch. Picking up my phone I pull up Owen’s number. My finger hovers over it as I stare at his name. Ace. A tear runs down my face and I click my phone off. If he wanted to hear from me he’d have answered me by now. He’s moving on and it hurts so much.
A knock on the door has me jumping up. Even though I know it’s Olivia, a tiny part of me wonders if it could maybe be Owen. When I swing it open to Olivia’s smiling face, I try to force a grin.
“You look like shit. You could at least try to be a little happy to see me. That forced grin is hurting my eyes,” she says, pushing her way past me.
Her long blonde hair is up in a ponytail, she has no makeup on and is wearing sweat pants, but she still looks a hell of a lot better than I do.
“You wanted to do this,” I say, leaning against the counter.
Getting two glasses out of the cabinet, she places them on the counter. “Damn right I wanted to do this. You’ve been miserable and I’m here to help.” Pouring us some wine, she hands me a glass. “So, let’s get drunk and figure this out,” she says, raising her glass.
A few hours later we are pretty drunk. We’ve talked about everything, but Owen. Work, food, movies, friends, family...everything. But looking at her now with that smirk on her face, I think my time of avoiding it is just about up.
“What’s your plan?” she asks, looking up at me from her seated position on the floor.
“My plan is get drunk and go to bed,” I say, tossing back the rest of my wine.
She yanks the pillow I’m holding out of my grasp, and hits me with it. “Stop avoiding it. I’m here to help.”
Dropping my head back onto the couch, I sigh. “You can’t help. There’s nothing to do. I lied. There’s no recovering from that. Nothing I can say or do to fix it. So yeah, I’m avoiding it.”
“Do you want him back?”
Closing my eyes, I picture his handsome face. “More than anything,” I whisper.
“So stop laying around defeated and beaten down. You made this mess, you need to clean it up,” she says, resting her hand on my knee.
Looking down at her, I wipe my tears. “How?”
**
Opening my eyes, my head is pounding. “Ugh,” I moan, holding the pillow over my head.
Thinking back on last night, I start to remember what Olivia and I talked about. She told me I need to make this right. I need to show him how sorry I am, explain I never meant to hurt him. Trying to think of what I would want if he lied to me, I formulated a drunk plan. It may do absolutely nothing, but if I don’t try I’ll wonder forever.
Slowly getting out of bed, I go into the bathroom and swallow down some Ibuprofen. Hoping it kicks in soon, I go lay on the couch. I’m exhausted but my thoughts are consumed by Owen. The guilt is eating me alive, keeping me from sleeping. I try to remember when I fell in love with him, but I can’t. It crept up on me so slowly I didn’t even notice. Until it was too late. The night he walked out and my heart started to bleed, it was like the wind got knocked out of me. It became so clear that while I was so busy trying to figure out what to do, he snuck his way into my heart. I want that feeling back, but I need to earn it. I know that.
A few hours later, dressed in the same black dress that I wore to the bar when the plan was pillow talk, I step out of my apartment. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to try to correct everything. That includes changing this dress from being the one that started my lie, to the one that I wore when we started over. At least I hope so.
Getting into a cab, I tell him where to go and I look out the window. I think back to the night I tried to quit on Pete, how I saw that couple embracing on the street and felt a pang of jealousy. If Pete had just let me go, none of this would be happening and we’d be that couple. Closing my eyes briefly, I try to clear my mind the same way I do before I get on stage. I can’t do this if I’m caught up in wishing for what should have been. I need to focus on what could be.
When the cab drops me off my heart is pounding in my chest. I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been. Everything is on the line here and if I can’t fix this now I’ll never be able to. So with more determination than I’ve ever had, I stand and wait. Twisting my hands together, I chew on my bottom lip. It’s the longest fifteen minutes of my life.
Owen comes into view and I want to fall to my knees. All my emotions crash over me and I need to use them to help me.
“Owen Thompson, I need you to stop and listen to me,” I say stepping out in front of him.
He stops, looking at me with wide eyes. I believe a part of him knows what’s going on. We’re in Central Park, right where his father proposed to his mother. It’s the middle of the day and I’m dressed like I’m ready for a night out.
“Don’t say anything, please just listen,” I say as I slowly get closer to him. “I messed up, no that’s an understatement, I fucked up. What I did is totally unforgivable, but here I am asking you to forgive me anyway.”
Running his hands through his hair, he looks around at the crowd of people starting to gather around us. “Brooke…” he starts.
Shaking my head, my curly hair bouncing around me, I hold up my hand. “No, please let me say what needs to be said.” I stand about a foot away from him and my body aches for his touch. Choking back the emotion I feel, I continue. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m not just saying the words Owen, I’m out here announcing them for everyone to hear.”
The loud chatter around us starts to disappear and it’s just us. My eyes lock onto his. “I never meant to hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you. I was scared and I let the fear win. But losing you, losing what we had together, that scares me even more. I didn’t do what I did to cause you any more pain. It kills me knowing what you’ve been through and knowing that I am now cause for more pain. I dance, it’s what I do. It’s where my heart has been my entire life. I love it, I strive to always do it. But I don’t want to dance with anyone, but you.” Taking two steps closer, I blink back the tears. “I miss you so much. I can’t breathe, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I’m sorry for everything. For lying, for hurting you, for taking
away your trust. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to fix it, nothing. Please Owen, believe me.”
“Believe her man,” a huge burly guy yells.
“This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.” I hear someone else say.
Tuning out the rest of the yelling, I focus on him. He hasn’t run yet and I’ve got his full attention so that’s something. Seeing the emotion on his face, I can’t stop a few tears from rolling down. Quickly wiping them, I step right up to him.
Reaching my hand out to the right, I grab the red rose from someone in the now very large crowd. Holding it out to him, he grins. “I don’t have much to give you, nothing but this rose, a promise and me. I promise to always be faithful, truthful, and a pain in your ass. You’re my Ace and I’m your blue eyes. I’ll never keep anything from you again.”
Placing my hand on his chest, causing us both to close our eyes from the contact, I take a breath. “My body aches for you, my thoughts are consumed with you, my heart bleeds for you. I know it will take time to trust me, but I promise you I’ll make it worth it. I’ll make you happy, Owen.” Looking out at the hushed crowd I see Olivia and she smiles. “I love you Owen Thompson and I’m here in front of all these people asking you to give me another chance.”
It’s probably a second, but standing there shaking with fear, it feels like an hour before he says anything. Wrapping an arm around me, he holds me close, lifting my chin to look at him. “I love you too Brooke Alexander and damn you for recreating this.” He looks around at the large crowd before searching my eyes. “It’s not going to be easy. You need to know that. I’m a stubborn man, but I also got a second chance. This relationship deserves one.”
We both grin and I crash my lips to his. The applause, hooting and cheering from the crowd make me smile against his mouth. But once I have his taste in my mouth, the smile disappears and I let out a soft moan.
Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead on mine. “I’ve missed you, blue eyes.”
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