Of course, it helped that all the advisors and concentration advisors were paid to make us believe that.
Still, that’s a large part of what made Yale—despite all the work—such a pleasant environment. We were all undergrads, constantly stressed. We were all, in our own way, dealing with mountains of assignments and tests and extra curriculars and deadlines. I was not the only one who worked hard. Far from it.
They were selling us the American Dream: Work hard. Keep your head down, and you’ll succeed. Oh yeah, and you’re in an institution that the rest of the world recognizes as the best, so you’d better not let us down.
Thousands of kids applied to Yale and got rejected. I just had a bit better grades in high school. That’s all.
So I have to stop thinking of myself as being capable of more. I can’t focus on two things at a time. Not while trying to achieve what I really want to.
And so, Jeremy has to be the sole focus in my life. I can’t be sad about losing Fey.
Self-pity is the most dangerous emotion.
I exhale and get up. Now I just wait for Jeremy to return, and take things from there.
Just like I wanted.
I’m surprised, however, when I find a small slip of paper under my door. I pick it up. It reads:
Fey is still mad, and I am, too. But unlike her, I think I understand. If you every truly need any help, you can come to me.I won’t shut you out.
Robin
My heart melts, just a little bit, when I read that note.
But then my natural instincts kick in. He says he “understands.” Understands what? How much does he know? How much has his research revealed? Damn, I wish I’d had the foresight to talk to him about it all before engineering the blowup with Fey. But that happened as a spur-of-the-moment decision. I anticipated making time, this evening, to wring all I could out of Robin. Before we all met Jeremy.
At least this way, the meaning is no longer a concern. Yet I still wish I had more information. I wish I knew exactly what Robin had uncovered. Malpractice at Stonehart Industries? I don’t doubt that. Jeremy Stonehart is a ruthless man. If his treatment of me—before the pronouncement of his feelings—was any indication of the things he’s capable of commissioning in the business world, then I can’t even fathom how rotten Stonehart Industries could be at its very core.
Is that my concern? Perhaps. The company is as much an extension of Jeremy as any appendage he possesses. It might help me understand the things he is capable of.
Then again, don’t I have a very real understanding of all those things? I have direct, personal, intimate experience of all of them. It’s not like there exist many cruelties worse than what he’s already done to me.
I cut off that line of thinking. Those are poisonous thoughts. I’m not about to dwell on the past again. I won’t forget. I’ll never forget. But, I won’t let those memories define me today.
I tuck Robin’s note away. I debate disposing of it. But then I think better of it. My initial impulse is to worry about what Jeremy might think if he found it. But a bit of reflection tells me that it might serve as proof, in Jeremy’s eyes, that I managed to get rid of Fey and Robin without having the meeting. Just in case it’s needed. I won’t show him otherwise.
I look at the clock. It’s nearly eight. Jeremy’s deadline is four hours away. I’m almost as nervous about that as anything else. I know it’s important to him—even if I know nothing about what the acquisition actually is. Since it’s important to him, by extension, it’s important to me. Success or failure could determine his mood for the next week. Maybe more.
I go and find my phone: the one I vowed not to use until Jeremy swore the restrictions were off. Oh, the irony behind that line of reasoning!
I turn it on. It boots up lightning fast. I wait to see if there are texts, or messages from Jeremy. There are none.
I send him one of my own, keeping it purposefully cryptic:
Fey and Robin are dealt with. I will wait for you return.
As I start putting my phone away, it buzzes with a new text.
Good. I trust you. I am glad that you sorted things out.
Aren’t you busy? I text back. How is the acquisition going?
We’ve hit an impasse. Break now. Tell more soon.
Okay, I say. Good luck.
I make my own luck.
I smirk. That is typical Jeremy.
I consider leaving things at that. But, there’s one other thing that’s been digging at me all day. Since I have Jeremy free…
Hugh came to visit me this morning.
Silence. Jeremy does not reply
I wait for a minute, then two. When the time between texts stretches out even more, I start to worry.
Shit! Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that now. He has enough to deal with at the moment, more than enough on his plate…
My phone starts to ring. It’s Jeremy’s number.
“Hello?” I pick up.
“What did you just say?” he demands. “About Hugh?”
“Forget it,” I say quickly, my pulse racing. Jeremy sounds livid. Absolutely furious. “I’ll tell you about what happened after you’re done.”
“Lilly, I just walked out of some of the most intense negotiations of my life to make this phone call. You will not tell me later. You will tell me now.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling all sorts of guilt—and worry—over interrupting him this way. If things go poorly when he returns to the bargaining table, will he pin the blame on me?
Or am I giving myself way too much credit for the sort of influence I have over his life?
“It was quick,” I say. “Nothing happened. Nobody else saw. He knocked on my door and asked to enter. I said no. He tried to insist. I pushed him away.”
“Did he give you any trouble?” Jeremy asks. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“All he said was that he wanted to talk. I refused.”
“And that’s it?”
“And that’s it,” I confirm. “Oh! He tried to give me an envelope.”
More silence. I start to fidget as it stretches.
“Jeremy?” I ask. “Are you still there?”
“Did you take it?” he demands. “Did you take the envelope from him, Lilly?”
“What? No! Why would I?”
“Are you certain,” he persists, “that you are not lying to me?”
“No, Jeremy. I wouldn’t! Not ever. Why would I lie?” My confidence starts to return, fueled by the false accusation of his words. “In fact, I volunteered this information to you, Jeremy. Nobody said I had to share.”
Jeremy makes a displeased, angry growling noise in his throat. Part of me is glad that he’s not here in person; another part wishes he were. That way I could judge his reaction much better.
“Lilly,” Jeremy says slowly. “Listen to me very carefully. My father was a powerful man. I crippled him. But his mind is still sharp. He could be very dangerous to you. To us.
“You will not withhold information about him from me. Not ever. I did not grant him permission to go and visit you. He did it behind my back. I don’t know what he’s aiming at. But we have to be careful. Did he mention Rose?”
“Rose?” I bunch my eyebrows up in confusion. “No, why would he mention Rose?”
“The truth. Now, Lilly!”
“No!” I emphasize. “He did not. I’m not lying to you Jeremy. Dammit! Stop accusing me of it.”
“I have to be sure.” He pauses. “I’ve got to get back. Already I’ve devoted more time than I intended to you. I will speak to Hugh and see what he has to say. If his story matches yours, that is one thing. If it does not…” He trails off, leaving the threat dangling in the air. “There will be unpleasant consequences.”
He hangs up.
I stare at the phone in my hands. Unpleasant consequences? For whom? For Hugh, or…
I swallow.
For me?
Chapter Seven
Jeremy’s parting comment has
me in a panic. I thought we were past that stage of our lives. The uncertainty of what he means is wreaking havoc with my mind.
I need to see him. That’s all, I tell myself as I try to find some way of keeping calm. I need to see him, in person, and all this will be solved.
But do I want to see him, given what such an encounter might bring?
Well. It’s infinitely preferable to the alternative: the meeting with him, Robin, and Fey. That could have been disastrous. Now the danger’s averted, and I can get back to…
To what? To work? To my life?
My life is whatever Jeremy decides it is. The position he has given me within Stonehart Industries is little more than a sham. I’m sure of it. Either that or a test. A test of…
A rush of adrenaline hits me and I sit straight up.
A test?
Could Jeremy have given me the position so I’d be a guinea pig? A subject to try out his virtual reality tech on? The computerized illusion he’s created…The performance he coordinated with Hugh, and Simon…Was that his ultimate goal for me? Was that the real purpose of my being at Stonehart Industries?
Jesus Christ! It might have been. And I’ve been blind to it until now?
I put a hand to my forehead.
Think, Lilly! I chide myself. Remember the man you’re dealing with!
Jeremy—whether I think of him as Jeremy or Stonehart—is the same person who imprisoned me. He’s the same person who waited nearly two decades for me to grow, to capture me and get revenge for what my father did to his mother.
And even if he claims that things have changed now, even if he professes very deep feelings for me—and even if I’ve started to believe in them—he is still a master of lies, of deceit, of direct manipulation. He is a case study for delayed gratification. How long has he lurked in the shadows, watching me, keeping tabs on me, as I grew from a child to woman to adult?
An uncomfortable shiver crawls up my spine. These are unpleasant thoughts. They are ones that I’ve avoided in recent weeks. Why? Because I’m scared of them?
No. Because I know where they lead. They lead to resent and hatred.
And despite all that’s been done to me, I don’t want to hate Jeremy. Not now. In fact, I can almost muster up a feeling of…pity…for the man.
I shake my head. No, pity is no good either. Pity weakens me much more than hate. I don’t want to hate Jeremy for my own selfish reasons. Mostly, because I don’t want to start loathing, again, what my life has become.
Hatred will foster a poisonous atmosphere. It will weigh me down, more than any internal force. I think I’ve been put in some rough situations now? Throw hatred into the mix and those would be unbearable. I would not be able to enjoy any of the things that Jeremy offers.
And truly…he offers a lot. So what if the path that brought us together was dark, twisted, and malicious? So what if his reasons for seeking me out were so wrong? What matters is what we have between the two of us now, and what will happen in the future.
But always, I circle back to my ultimate need for revenge. I promised myself I would take Jeremy Stonehart down. I don’t make empty promises. Nor do I forget. I will remember all that he’s done to me, for our entire time together.
Maybe we’re much more alike than I first envisioned. I have my secrets. He has his. I have my goals, my intentions. Jeremy has his. We both claim honesty. We both claim that we show each other the truth.
In both cases, that’s a big fucking lie.
The worst part—or maybe the best—is that both of us know it. We continue to deceive each other, each in our own way, and make no apologies for it. Not internally, at least.
And maybe that…maybe that very aspect of our relationship…is what makes us so compatible.
I lean back in the chair. A crooked smile flitters across my face. Jeremy and I are compatible, aren’t we? Somehow, through some menacing twist of fate, the abductee has fallen for her abductor.
It’s not Stockholm Syndrome. Not anymore. Not when I have the freedom to leave and choose not to. I’ve had ample opportunity to run away or go to the police. I have all the video records of what he’s done to me. I have more than enough real, solid evidence to lock Jeremy up for good.
It is not the word of a gold digger versus the word of a powerful business mogul anymore.
But I obviously don’t want that. I obvious don’t want Jeremy gone. If I did, it would have happened by now.
No…I roll my head to the side and look out the window. I don’t want Jeremy gone. I find him fascinating. He is the most interesting person I have ever met. There are so many sides to him, so many conflicting personalities, all contained within one shell. The common factor uniting all of them is…
Me.
I am at the heart of it all. It is not pompous or presumptuous to think so. No matter who Jeremy is, no matter what his mindset might be, his personal life revolves around me. He has made it so. It is the reality he crafted for himself, just like he crafted Stonehart Industries.
He told me that he is a man who does because he can. Those words stuck with me. They give one of the most important insights into his mind.
The whole world is open to him. It is not the false illusion that I maintained in college, when we were told, time and time again, that the world is our oyster. That we could accomplish anything we wanted, should we just have the courage to reach out and grab it.
Pfft. I scoff. What a crockpot full of lies. The world is nothing but closed doors and miles and miles of red tape for a fresh college graduate—out of the Ivy League or not. You’re unproven when you’re young. Inexperienced. You prove it just by virtue of believing the whole ‘oyster’ line.
But Jeremy is the embodiment of those words. He has the power. He has the wealth. He has the influence to do anything he’s ever wanted. And he chooses to spend all his time focusing on me.
It’s astounding—mind-numbing even—that I could mean so much to him. I’ve thought about his declaration of love, his confession of true feelings for me. Whereas I rejected it at first, probably out of a sense of self-preservation, I do not doubt the veracity of those feelings and more. They didn’t make sense to me, at first. I did not allow them to make sense.
They do now. He’s not an idiot; nor is he naïve. He knows he’s given me all the tools necessary to destroy him. I’m sure he has some contingency measures in place in case I do try—his hold over my father, for example, or his influence over my mother. But, if I were to try it, I’d be able to match him blow for blow.
He’s given me all those tools…and then left me to them. He did not restrict what I could or could not do. In that way, at least, we seem like just a regular couple.
That simple knowledge was probably enough for me to start to take his claim of love at face value. It took a while, but I think I’m finally there.
It’s worth more, somehow, than the removal of the collar. Or even the burning of the contract. Those were physical things, physical actions to convince me of his word. Were either of the two still present…well, things would be vastly different, obviously. But they would also hang over our heads. Mine and Jeremy’s both. Now, we’re both free of those shackles, and free to see where the future takes us—with no doubts…and even fewer explanations.
Except…of course there are expectations, always. Expectations for my behavior. Certain rules I still must follow.
I understand them, implicitly. What’s more, I understand the need for them. I’m starting to get a glimpse of who Jeremy Stonehart is. Who he is when he is unguarded. Who he is when he is around me. Who he is, and who he can become, with my growing influence.
I no longer doubt I can change him. He’s let me in enough for that. Somehow, I’ve gained enough power over his life.
Of course, so much about him is still shrouded in mystery. I don’t even know what company he’s trying to acquire tonight, for crying out loud!
But that type of knowledge is not particularly important to me. I mean yes, I a
m curious about what he thinks could be so crucial to Stonehart Industries that he called the proceedings ‘the most’ important negotiations of his life. But that is not at the essence of what I want to know. That tells me less about Jeremy Stonehart, as a man, than it does about Jeremy Stonehart, billionaire business tycoon.
And it’s the man I want to know about. I could learn about his business dealings by picking up the latest issue of Forbes. Anybody could. That is not what is critical to me.
Critical things are: What did he mean when he was talking about the psychological scars I’ve suffered, that he had the same done to him? What did he mean, when he told me, so long ago, that he got revenge on his father—only for me to find out now that he keeps the man on his board.
And, especially: what did Hugh mean when he implied that it was he who had helped Jeremy with my abduction? Moreover, why did Jeremy ask me if Hugh had mentioned Rose?
Those are the questions that are important to my life. Those are the people who are important in my life. Not Robin, and—as much as I hate to admit it—not Fey.
I’m on an island all by myself. But it is an island I willingly swam to. Out in the open water, when I could have asked for help, when I could have screamed and begged for attention from the passing ships, I chose to turn my nose up and go at it on my own.
It’s what I chose, I reflect as I look around the empty, lonesome room. It’s what I chose.
Chapter Eight
Jeremy surprises me by sneaking into the room.
I’d dozed off in the armchair without realizing it as I was contemplating my life. With all the lights off, the situation was eerily similar to the transgression that earned me my last stay in the dark.
“Lilly,” he says softly, touching my cheek. “Lilly, it’s done.”
“Hmm?” I mutter, still half asleep. The instincts that would have had me on guard following an unexpected arrival are now nonexistent. In fact, I turn my head into his hand, loving the feel of his fingers against my skin, inviting him to keep going.
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 78