He nods woodenly and then winces, and I think he must have a hell of a headache from the fight and the blow he took to the head.
In the hallway, I close the door behind me, separating us from my family, not that anything’s secret now.
“Violet, I—”
“No, Ross,” I whisper, the anger building within me. I want to rage at the world, bemoan the unfairness of it all, go back and wipe the last little while from existence. I’d do anything to have Papa healthy beside me once again.
The guilt gnaws at me. Oh, there’s enough to go around, but most of it lies on my shoulders. But Ross is the one standing here with me while everyone else either hates me, is disgusted with me, or is just avoiding me.
So Ross is the target, and he’s going to catch the full blast of everything I’ve got.
“What the fuck just happened?” I ask, stepping up to him. “How did Colin even get in? Why didn’t you stop him before he ruined everything? What if Papa doesn’t make it?”
The questions I’ve been asking myself blurt from my lips. I’ve been replaying the scene in my head on a loop, changing small details and trying to figure out how that would’ve affected the outcome. If anything could have prevented Papa from being here like this.
Ross tries to put his arms around me, to hug me to him, but I shake him off. “No. Don’t you get it? It’s over . . . our lie, our relationship, our . . . everything. Everyone knows it’s all fake. It’s all fake, and because of us, Papa’s here! You and I, we did this!”
I fall apart, ugly, snotty tears making my puffy face slick with sadness and fear again.
“We didn’t mean to,” Ross says lamely, trying to find some sort of justification for what we’ve done.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter now. Just leave. Please.”
Ross looks like he’s about ready to cry now, his throat working. “Vi—”
“Leave,” I whisper. “This fairy tale’s over.”
Ross looks like he wants to argue but instead, after a moment, nods, leaving me alone in the suddenly empty hallway.
I’m alone.
All alone.
The tile seems so comforting, and I sag to it, finally able to sob the way my heart demands.
Chapter 25
Ross—Sunday—1 Day After the Wedding
Sunday’s supposed to be a day of rest.
This specific Sunday should have been a day of celebration. Violet and I were going to wake up late after a long night of making love, enjoy a leisurely brunch somewhere around two or three in the afternoon, then get on a private plane to fly off on our honeymoon, maybe joining the Mile-High Club in the process.
That was the plan. A start of a new life and an opportunity to tell Violet that things have changed. That even though it’s been only two weeks, this isn’t fake anymore. Not to me.
I planned to tell her that I’ve developed feeling for her, ones that run deeper than I’d ever imagined. I planned to tell her that I love her and want to spend not just some short blip of time with her, but I truly want to be with her forever. I planned to tell her everything.
What’s that saying about the best-laid plans?
Something about them so often going awry. Well, they have done that, for sure. In a big ball of spectacularly destructive flames from which there might be no recovering.
Now, those future plans lie in utter ruins.
Papa is desperately ill. Violet sent me away, her family glaring at me only marginally harder than they frowned at her. My mother crying as she asked where she went wrong that I would do something like this to a nice girl like Violet. Courtney’s eyes full of hurt as she said, “I asked you straight out and you lied to my face.” And my father. I’d almost feared he was going to end up in the hospital next to Papa with the way the vein in his forehead was throbbing. Red-faced and furious, he’d told me that he had to go clean up my mess, like I was nothing but an unruly child.
“That was another call,” Kaede says as he gets off the phone. He’s been doing damage control with me all day. “Another of the shareholder groups says they’re going to dump all of their stock. You know, it was a lot easier to pull this shit back in the days before online trading. Someone has the world’s biggest fuckup of a wedding on Saturday, you still had all day Sunday to calm down before markets opened on Monday. Damn shame how the world’s speeding up.”
I know Kaede’s trying to keep things light, trying to keep my spirits up, but it’s not working very well. I’m not going to jump on his ass over it. He’s still being professional.
I’m just not in the mood.
Reaching up, I start to run my hand over my stubble when I wince and pull back, both my bruised face and my wrist reminding me of yesterday’s debacle. I guess I wasn’t quite prepared for how hard Colin Radcliffe’s skull could be.
The cut over my eye hurts more, simply because of how I got it. I don’t think Violet even realizes that she’s the one who sliced me open as I gathered her in my arms, forcing her away from Papa so the EMTs could help him. The pain in her eyes and the anguish in her cry hurt more than her ring ripping my skin, and I refused the doctor’s desire to stitch it closed. I want it to scar, want the reminder of the day that started with such happiness and that, because of my misguided actions, ended so terribly.
“Have you heard from Abi?” I ask Kaede. After Violet threw me out, the staff said it’d be better if I didn’t return, that it’d cause the family stress. But Abi sent a text late last night that she was with Violet, supporting her because her family is treating her like a pariah. It’d pained me so much to know that Vi’s hurting, but I can’t do anything to help other than stay away. I have to be thankful that Abi is there, though.
“Nothing new,” Kaede says, his voice reflective of the situation. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?”
“Just . . . just . . .” I start before my mind just blanks out. There’s nothing left, nothing inside me. I just don’t care.
“I can think of something you can do, Kaede,” Courtney says, coming in. “Start drafting up an apology letter for Ross.”
“Apology letter?” I ask, shaking myself back to the situation at hand. “Who else wants an apology? I feel like all I’ve done is say ‘I’m sorry.’”
“Actually, Dad wants another apology, preferably a real one and not just lip service this time, but that’s a totally different matter,” Courtney says, her voice still heavy with the hurt she obviously feels over this whole matter. “We all want one. But this is a corporate one, and it’s my idea to save your undeserving ass.”
“Undeserving . . .”
“Yes, undeserving!” Courtney fumes at my murmured word. “Dammit, Ross, you’d have been better off keeping on doing what you were doing before. Ross Andrews, the manwhore of the city.” She sneers the words, and though we all know they’re not true, it is the foundation of what the media was publishing all too often. “At least then, we could write it off as immature ways to let loose from the stresses of your corporate responsibilities. This is a lot fucking worse. There are even people saying Dad was complicit in this scam to make it look like you were finally going to follow corporate policies instead of flitting about with a pastor’s wife. Who knows where this is headed if we don’t get out in front of it!”
“The company will survive,” I murmur, not really caring. All I can focus on is Violet and Stefano and what I’ve done to them. Compared to that, dollar signs mean nothing.
Courtney crosses her arms, looking at me carefully before hooking her thumb at Kaede, who pulls a fade, closing the door behind him. Courtney sits down and sighs. “On a more personal note, Colin Radcliffe’s lawyer called. I handled it, but the long and short of it is, he’s going to sue you. And his dad’s pressuring the cops to arrest you for assault because you threw the first punch.”
“Don’t care.”
Courtney rubs at her forehead, staring at me, but I’m done with this conversation. “I can see that. Actually, I wish Dad coul
d see what I see right now. Maybe then he wouldn’t be verging on an explosion.” She mimes his head blowing up from his temples. “I know you’ve been through this with Mom and Dad, but can you tell me what the hell you were thinking?”
I bury my head in my hands, my elbows on my desk. “Court, it was supposed to be for convenience. Dad was putting all of this pressure on me to settle down, and for some stupid reason, I thought a steady plus-one would be enough to get him off my back. But Violet needed more, for Papa. She needed the whole fairy tale wedding thing. It was his dying wish to walk her down the aisle and see her happily married.” A humorless huff escapes. “Fucked that up, didn’t I?”
Courtney’s mouth falls open, her eyes scanning me, analyzing me. I can’t take any more. I spin in my chair, giving her my back and facing the wall of windows. Her voice is soft, gentle as she asks, “When did it become real to you, Ross?”
I can hear that she’s not the corporate up and comer right now but just my little sister who’s worried about me. I don’t bother trying to deny it because I would shout it from mountaintops if I thought it would help anything. “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly, looking over my shoulder at her. “Too late to prevent what happened, I guess.”
She nods. “You guess right. The important thing now is, what are you going to do? Does Violet know?” Her eyes widen. “Does she feel the same way you do?” She brings up so many good questions, ones I have no answers to.
I turn back to the windows, staring over the city but not seeing anything, my vision blurred by images, memories of Violet. “I don’t know what to do. Violet doesn’t know how I feel. I was going to tell her, but it seemed like too much of a risk before the wedding. I wanted to give her what she wanted and thought we’d have time afterward. I thought I’d have time to make her love me too.”
I can hear Courtney tapping on her phone, and I turn to look at her incredulously. Angrily, I demand, “I’m pouring my heart out over here and you’re working? You really are Dad’s daughter, aren’t you?”
She literally snaps her fingers at me, and despite myself, I freeze in shock at the rudeness. She gets up, walking around my desk to stand at my side, looming over me. “I am my father’s daughter, which means that when new information presents itself, I make adjustments accordingly. For the good of all involved. He’s not the monster you seem to think he is. I told you that he was pressuring you for your own good. Surely, you can see that in the last two weeks, even if it started as some scheme, you’ve changed in positive ways. You’re finally growing up and putting someone else’s wants and needs over your own, and that’s all Dad wanted for you. A future, a family. He didn’t want some fake convenience woman on your arm for a hot minute for appearances. He wants you to have what he has, a family he loves and takes pride in.”
Her words are sharp barbs, poisoned for maximum pain, because she’s right. So many times, I’ve butted heads with my father, thinking him old-fashioned or feeling like he was forcing me in directions I didn’t want to go. But maybe it’s because he was happy with that path, and since it’s all he knows, he’s guided me that way too.
“Maybe,” I concede.
“Progress,” she proclaims with the barest hint of a smile, but I’m unable to return it, which makes her lips fall again. “Look, I just want you to know that I love you, and whatever you’ve done, that doesn’t change. Especially knowing what I know now. You’re my big brother, and though I’m just your annoying little sister, I love you.”
“Thank you,” I mouth before finding my voice and repeating myself. “Thank you.”
Courtney holds her arms out in invitation, and I find the strength to stand up and hug her tightly. She hugs me back, and in her arms, I find the ability to release. The tears start slowly, and I never devolve into full on sobbing, but with each hot tear, Courtney hugs me tighter. For the first time in our lives, she’s the one supporting me and I’m the one needing strength and comfort.
It’s a short storm, a summer squall of the agony I’m in, but it helps. When I’m done, Courtney wipes her thumb under my eyes like Mom used to before standing on her tiptoes to kiss my forehead, again, just like Mom.
“Thanks. I think. Though let’s never discuss this again,” I say awkwardly. I sigh and straighten my spine, falling back into my comfortable role. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Work with Kaede on the damage control letter. I’m going to talk with Dad.”
“You sure?” Courtney asks.
I nod, adjusting my tie a little. “Yeah. The sooner, the better. No use in prolonging this and letting others control my destiny. I did that for too long.”
I leave Courtney and Kaede and head upstairs to my father’s office. He’s here too, of course. Most of the senior management’s dealing with the PR fallout of yesterday’s insanity. They all want to be here, both for the good of the company and because everyone loves to see the prince taken down a notch. I can feel their watchful eyes—curious, amused, shocked, angry.
But yet, they work to minimize the impact, even if the majority of the responsibility is sitting on my shoulders, and everyone is waiting for Dad to decide what he’s going to do.
But professionally, I still don’t care. Yeah, I don’t want Kaede, or Courtney, or anyone in the company to be hurt or lose their jobs because of this, but as for me?
I don’t care. This corporation’s in good hands with Dad in charge, and if the future of this place doesn’t involve me . . . I can live with that. I don’t want it to come to that, but it’s not the most important thing in my life right now.
Violet is. She’s all I care about.
Dad’s sitting behind his desk when I walk in, his face still thundery. “Dad?”
“I assume Courtney found you?” Dad says, his voice so tight that I’m afraid he’ll snap a tooth if he bites his words off any harder.
“She did. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said. But sorry won’t cut it this time. Do you even realize what you’ve done?” he growls, slamming his hand to his desk as he rises to his feet, pacing about the room.
“I’ve got board members yelling about stock prices, which have dropped by eighteen percent in the last twenty-four hours. That’s people’s lives, Ross! Their life savings shot because of your shenanigans. The shareholders are bitching about morality clauses, demanding my own son’s dismissal from the company I started from nothing. I’ve got lawyers calling, police calling, and the media . . .” He shakes his head. “The fucking media! Showing that sniveling shit Radcliffe on the news first thing this morning. And it’s trending on social media too. Congrats, you’ve gone viral,” he says sarcastically.
“Dad—” I say, trying to get a word in edgewise, but he’s on a roll.
“What is it your mother calls them? Culture vultures? They smell blood in the water and they’re hunting like sharks, hunting you, Son. And what am I to do about it?”
“Nothing,” I say sharply. “Let me fix this. I’m the one who fucked up. Let me fix it. At least I can drown myself in work and be useful for something.”
Dads laughs tersely. “You? Fix this? This whole thing is your mess, as always.”
I grit my teeth. “It’s never my mess! It’s you believing those parasites and the tales they make up over your own son. So what if I wasn’t ready to settle down and get married? It wasn’t your place to force me to do it, regardless of why you did it and whether your reasons were well-intentioned or not.” It’s the smallest give that I have, based on what Courtney told me about Dad’s thinking process and what he wants for my future.
“I didn’t force you to lie to everyone. You did that all on your own, didn’t you?” he booms.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that it was Abi’s idea, just to show him that I’m not the only one who thinks he’s gone too far. But I can’t. I won’t throw my sister under the bus that way.
But Dad heard the video and knows that conversation was b
etween Violet and Abi. I can see the moment he remembers that.
“And you got your sister involved in this too!”
Fine, if that’s how we’re doing this, then so be it.
“You know as well as I do that no one mixes Abi up in anything she doesn’t want to get mixed up in. She’s as hard-headed as you are.” It’s not a compliment, but he smiles slightly as if it is. “She knew you were pressuring me, she knew Violet needed this, and she put one and one together.”
“Except she came up with three, and we’re all paying the price.”
“No one is paying the price more than Violet,” I remind him, which sobers us both from the war of words we’re engaging in.
It’s a dash of cold water on both of our tempers. “We are never going to see eye to eye on this, so what do you want me to do? How do we move forward from where we are now?”
He sits down in his chair, his face stoic as he returns to the all-business mode he’s known for. “The company is putting out a press release, you will write an apology letter, the lawyers will do what we pay them to do, and the company will ride this out.”
“And us?” I say.
He sighs, turning in his chair to look out the window, so similar to what I did to Courtney just moments ago. “You should go visit your mother.”
I know a dismissal when I hear one. I swallow thickly and turn on my heel, leaving Dad to deal with the company he loves, to repair the image he cares about. He wants me to settle down, have a family, be the two-dot-oh version of him, but right now, I feel like his family is the last thing Dad cares about.
A tiny voice in the back of my head tries to remind me of all the times Dad was there for me, teaching me about the company I begrudge him for loving, throwing spirals in the yard when I was just a pee-wee football player, and showing me how to love by treating Mom well. But I can’t, not now when we’ve been ripped apart at the seams that used to hold us together.
My Big Fat Fake Wedding Page 30