by Amy Andrews
“Just?”
“It was a … prank. Bill was just being stupid.”
“Stupid?” Taylor said. “Bill Spencer is never stupid.”
Steffy had to concede her mother that point. “He was just trying to … protect me.”
“By kissing you?” Her mother’s voice had risen several octaves and was at just the right pitch to scrape along Steffy’s painfully taut neck muscles. “In front of half of LA? Protect you from what?”
“Not from what,” Steffy said, rubbing the spot where her nape met her head. “From who.”
Taylor frowned. “Who?”
Steffy sighed. “From Liam, Mom.”
“From Liam?” The voice went up another octave. “You don’t need protecting from the man you were married to. The man whose child you carried. The man you love. Who still, by the way, loves you!”
“Mother!” Steffy dropped her hand from her neck in exasperation. Why couldn’t Taylor see that Liam had moved on? “He loves Hope. He’s always loved Hope.”
Steffy paused. She’d been ignoring it for a long time but she could see it clearly now—he’d always wanted Hope more.
Taylor shook her head. “That’s not true.”
“It is, Mom, it is.” Steffy knew it with such sudden clarity it was almost blinding. “And even if he didn’t, I don’t love him anymore. Don’t you think I deserve someone who’s going to love me and me only?”
“And I suppose you think that’s Bill?” Taylor said scathingly. “You think Bill Spencer is your one and only?”
“No, Mom, I don’t. Bill acted impulsively to show Liam that I’m not pining away without him. It was … impetuous and foolish—” and stupidly, stupidly risky to their father–son relationship, “—and I will be talking to him about it at work on Monday.”
“Why wait till then?” Taylor demanded. “This thing could be huge by then.”
Steffy didn’t doubt that for a moment. She could just imagine the gossip section of the Sunday newspaper, and the bloggers were no doubt already making a big deal out of it. But there was no way Steffy was confronting Bill about this in any environment other than work—he would dismiss her too easily over the phone. And God knew what would happen if she went there or he ended up here.
Not with the kiss still clinging to her lips, her tongue still savoring the taste of him. She needed the safety of the office. The formality of a desk. The security of his assistant just outside the door.
“Monday’s soon enough,” Steffy said, lifting a weary hand to her neck again.
Her mother looked like she was going to continue to argue and Steffy contemplated asking her to leave but the angry set to Taylor’s shoulders dissolved and her face softened.
“Darling,” she murmured, stepping closer, placing her hand on Steffy’s arm. “What’s going on with you? You’re working too hard. He’s working you too hard. This is what I was worried about. We never see you anymore. We—you and I, we don’t talk anymore.”
“Nothing’s going on, Mom.” Steffy smiled, relaxing now her mother had gone off the offensive. “I’m just busy trying to learn a new job and I’ve had this great idea that I need to do a big proposal for and—I really like this job, Mom. I’m not deliberately ignoring you. I just need to give it my all for a while. It won’t always be like this, I promise.”
Taylor nodded. “You looked tired,” she said, reaching up to softly brush the bangs off her daughter’s forehead like she used to do when Steffy was a little girl.
Steffy shut her eyes and leaned into it. “I am. And I have a headache.”
“Sit,” Taylor murmured. “I’ll get you something for it then you go to bed, okay?”
Steffy sat meekly as her mother headed into the bathroom. She knew she should protest but her head was thumping now and she was just too weary to care. This was what had been so good about Paris. Her father had completely taken over, looking after her, looking out for her.
And for a long time she’d let him. For many months all she’d wanted to do was lie in a ball and let someone else take the wheel. She’d felt physically weak from the miscarriage and emotionally devastated by the fact that she could no longer have children. Having Ridge cushion her in his nice, safe bubble had been bliss.
Just as it was bliss now to have her mother handing her two tablets then ordering her to sleep. Tomorrow she’d be strong again. Powerful and female—that’s what Bill had said. But for tonight she let herself be a child again, be a daughter, and collapsed into bed.
*
Saturday came and went at a snail’s pace. The phone rang frequently—mostly Bill—but Steffy refused to pick up. She didn’t want to discuss what had happened over the phone and she certainly didn’t want to talk to any of the numbers she didn’t recognize, mostly because she was certain they’d be media.
She channeled all her energy into the proposal, working on her laptop late into the night, until she was utterly exhausted. Too exhausted to dream about the kiss. About Bill kissing her more. About Bill ripping her dress off and kissing her elsewhere.
Kissing her everywhere.
The Sunday papers were as bad as she’d feared. The Fashion Heiress and the Media Mogul was getting a lot of column inches and a hell of a lot of likes on social media. The phone rang incessantly. Thankfully, Bill seemed to have given up but by the afternoon Liam, unfortunately, had taken over.
And when a knock interrupted her work at five o’clock, she just knew it wasn’t going to be good. Steffy contemplated not answering it.
“Steffy, I know you’re in there. Open up!”
Bill’s voice was strong and clear and he did not sound in any mood for recalcitrant women.
“Steffy! Open up or I’m going to break the door down and invite every tabloid in LA to come and take a picture.”
Steffy rolled her eyes at his dramatics, but she opened the door. “Happy now?” she said.
“No,” Bill said, striding in.
Steffy wanted to ensure she had a quick exit if Bill decided to kiss her again, so she didn’t close the door all the way. She knew she wouldn’t be able to manage pesky things like the coordination it took to turn and pull a door knob. She may not be thinking that coherently if they kissed again.
“You ran off,” he said as he turned in the middle of her living room to face her.
“Yes.” He was wearing his usual uniform, blue jeans and a dark shirt rolled up at the sleeves. The top two buttons were undone. His hair looked like it had been subjected to an unusual amount of finger raking.
In short, he looked hot. Weekend-tycoon hot. Casual, laid-back hot.
Bill crossed his arms. “You didn’t even leave a glass slipper. Or answer any of my phone calls.”
“Lucky me, you know where I live,” she said.
“I’d like to explain about Friday night.”
“Sure. On Monday,” she said. “At work.”
“I want to talk about it now.”
“This is not an appropriate conversation to be having in my apartment.” Where there were no desks. And two beds.
“You think,” Bill asked as he took to prowling around her apartment, “it’s an appropriate conversation to be having at work?”
‘No,” Steffy conceded. “It’s an entirely inappropriate conversation to be having at all, because what you did was entirely inappropriate.”
Bill nodded. “Agreed. But what can I say? The red dress made me do it.”
Steffy glared at him. “This is serious, you know. Half of LA is talking about your dance-floor move.”
“Sorry,” he said, although Steffy didn’t think he looked particularly contrite. “I didn’t think about the cameras being there.”
“Bill Spencer, media mogul, didn’t think about the tabloid appeal of his actions? I find that exceedingly hard to believe.”
Bill shrugged. “It’ll get Liam off your back.”
“No,” Steffy snapped, “it won’t.” She picked up her cell and navigated to the list of missed cal
ls, most of them Liam’s, and thrust it at his chest, hard. “He’s been calling all afternoon.”
Bill looked at the names printed neatly on the screen and scrolled down the extensive list. “Steffy, he’s my son and I love him but while you remain single, Liam is going to think he can control you, that he still has some say over your life.”
“So you, his father, decided to be the one?”
“Yes.” Bill shoved his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Steffy was about to tell him in minute detail how bad an idea it was but a voice from behind them made her turn.
“Steffy? Dad? So it’s true.”
“Liam.” Bill whirled around to see his son standing in the open doorway, noticing the newspaper he had in his hand, a picture of himself and Steffy locked in a passionate kiss splashed all over the society pages in vibrant Technicolor.
Liam glared at his father then at Steffy. “Please tell me you didn’t spend the night together.”
Steffy blinked at the look of disbelief and disgust on Liam’s face. That look would have killed her once. Would have had her rushing to his side to make it all better. But not anymore.
“What? No!” she denied.
“Can you blame me for asking?” Liam demanded as he advanced into the apartment, brandishing the paper.
“Liam,” Steffy said, keeping her voice calm and low, trying to defuse the situation even though he was making her angry. He had no right to barge in here and throw around accusations.
“It’s not how it looks. I can explain.”
“No! I don’t want to hear anything from you, Steffy!” he roared. “I want to hear it from my father. I want to hear it from the great Bill Spencer. I want to hear him say he’s not sleeping with his son’s ex-wife. With his ex-daughter-in-law.”
Bill shook his head. “Go home, son. This is none of your business.”
Liam shook his head and Steffy could see the wildness in his eyes. “She’s my ex-wife,” he snapped.
“And that’s the operative word, Liam—ex,” Bill said and Steffy admired his calm. “What she does with her life and who she does it with is none of your business anymore.”
“It’s my business if she’s doing it with you!”
Bill shook his head. “No, son, it’s not. And why do you care so much anyway?”
“I’m always going to care about Steffy,” Liam said. He turned to her and the look on his face would have broken her heart not so long ago. He seemed so confused. “I’m always going to care about where you are and what you’re doing and who you’re with.”
Steffy nodded. “I know. Thank you. I appreciate that, I really do, but Liam—” Steffy softened her voice further—“Bill’s right, none of it is your concern anymore. You don’t have a right to know any of it. To be involved in any of it.”
“I know,” Liam said. “I know. But I’d like us to stay friends. To be able to have a phone conversation or talk at parties or dance, for crying out loud, without it being a … thing.”
“And we will … one day. It’s just too soon.”
Liam took a step towards her. “But Steffy—”
Bill grabbed his son by the arm. “The lady needs some space,” he said.
“What, so you can move in on her?” Liam demanded, shaking himself out of his father’s grip. “You know he uses women, right?” Liam said, turning to face Steffy. “And he’ll use you too. Just ask Katie. He’ll hurt you, Steffy.”
Steffy watched as every muscle on Bill’s face tightened. But Steffy couldn’t let him fight her battles or say something to his son he might never be able to come back from. She was the one who needed to point out the irony in Liam’s argument—not Bill.
“Oh my God,” she said to Liam, shaking her head. “Do you hear yourself?”
“What?” Liam frowned.
“Bill’s going to use me? Bill’s going to hurt me?” She forgot all about allaying Liam’s fears about her and Bill being an item—there were bigger fish to fry. “Do you have any idea how much you used me. How much you hurt me?”
Liam reached out to touch her arm. “Steffy—”
“No!” Steffy jerked her arm out of reach. “Don’t touch me. Years,” she said. “Years and years I wasted on you. Wasted while you went between me and Hope like we were … interchangeable.” Steffy was disgusted with herself just saying it out loud. She could hate him for that as much as she liked, but the truth was she’d allowed him to treat her like that. She’d let him use her.
She pushed a hand into her hair. “You were never content unless you had one of us pining in the background for you,” she said. “Plotting and scheming with our mothers to get you back. I flew to the highest heights when you were with me, and crashed to the deepest lows when you went to Hope. Waiting and hoping and praying that you’d choose me for good. That you’d want to be with me only. Just like my mother has always done, hoping my father would choose her over Brooke.”
Steffy scoffed at her stupidity. “You’d think I’d have been alert to the signs, right? But oh no, here I am, repeating the pattern. Well, not anymore,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not playing anymore, Liam. You’re with Hope. And I’m not going to be used or hurt by you again. I’m not going to be some pawn in this who-can-love-me-more game you’ve got going on.”
“That’s not true,” Liam said hotly.
“Yes, it is.”
The voice startled them all and they turned to find Hope standing in the open doorway.
“Hope,” Liam said, crossing the room to be by her side.
Steffy was pleased to see Hope pull away slightly, causing Liam’s hand to fall from her arm.
“What are you doing here?” Liam asked.
“I followed you,” she said and Steffy had to admire the steel in her voice. “What are you doing here?”
“You followed me?” Liam blanched. “Honey there was no need, I told you, I’m in love with you, I don’t want Steffy back. I just came to make sure she doesn’t make a mistake with my father.”
Hope looked at Steffy then back at Liam. “So you don’t want Steffy back, but you don’t want anyone else to have her either?”
“No,” Liam said. “It’s not like that. I just don’t think my father is the right choice for her.”
“That’s none of your business, Liam,” Hope said frostily and Bill shot Steffy a brief look-at-that-girl-go look.
“Well he’s my father and she’s my ex-wife,” Liam said. “So I think it does have something to do with me, don’t you?”
Hope shook her head. “They’re adults, Liam, they don’t need your permission.” She looked back over Liam’s shoulder again at Bill and Steffy and, for the first time in a long time, Steffy actually felt sorry for her step-sister—Liam’s indecision had to be hard on her too. She also admired Hope’s courage for putting her foot down, something she’d never done.
Hope pursed her lips as she returned her attention to Liam. “Steffy’s right. You’re still trying to control both of us like puppets on a string.”
“I’m not,” Liam denied again. “I would never do that.”
“Do you love me?” she demanded.
“Hope …” Liam reached for her and this time, Hope let him take her arm. “You know I do. You know it’s always been you.”
Surprisingly, the words didn’t hurt Steffy like she’d thought they would. Deep down, she’d known that Hope had always been Liam’s first love but she’d suppressed it, ruthlessly ignored it in her pursuit of him, in her belief that he could love her most.
Of course Liam’s motives for saying it here and now with Steffy within earshot were reprehensible but if he thought they were going to wound her, that it was some payback for being here with Bill, then he was going to be sorely disappointed. She’d come through hell—and survived.
Her days—her years—of loving him were well and truly gone.
“Then prove it. Come with me now,” Hope said. “Right now. As
far as I’m concerned those two—” she nodded her head towards Bill and Steffy, “—are perfectly suited, so give up on this futile pretense and come home with me.”
Steffy could feel Liam’s conflict from across the room. She knew he was torn between staying to battle it out until he’d worn her down like he’d always done and feathering the nest he had. A nest that, if Hope’s grim determination was anything to go by, wasn’t necessarily a sure thing either.
Go Hope. Steffy was blown away by her strength. Too often, Hope had played the passive role in their tussles over Liam but, clearly, those days were gone. She was baring her teeth. And Liam was paying attention.
“Of course, I will,” Liam said. “I’ll do anything for you.” And then he pulled Hope into his arms.
Steffy suppressed her skeptical response. How many times had he promised her fidelity, promised her the world? But Steffy didn’t care, she just wanted him gone. Both of them gone. She glanced at Bill.
All of them gone.
Hope looked at Bill and Steffy. “Goodbye,” she said and they both nodded in response.
Liam looked at them too and for a moment Steffy could have sworn he was going to say something, get in one last dig. But Hope pulled on his hand and he followed her out of the apartment without saying a word, without a backward glance.
Steffy watched them disappear, relief swamping her, and if it had been anyone but Bill standing next to her, she may just have leaned against them for support.
“Well,” Bill said after a few moments of silence. “That was a surprise.”
“Yes.”
“About time she grew some balls.”
“Looks like there’ll be no need for any more fake public displays of affection, that’s for sure.”
“Shame,” Bill said and she could sense him looking down at her, could feel him in the stir of her blood and the vibration of every cell in her body. “That could have been fun.”
Steffy stepped away, shaking her head at his persistence. “Goodbye, Bill. Time for you to go too.”
“I know, I know.” He sighed as he ambled toward the door. “Strictly colleagues.”
She nodded. “See you Monday.”
He smiled at her and saluted as he walked out the door and even from halfway across the room it felt strangely intimate.