Isaac’s jaw tenses, his back stiffens, and I know he’s preparing to go in to battle on my behalf.
I place my hand on his chest. “Don’t waste your energy. He’s not worth it.” My eyes sparkle with mirth, and I blame the beer on my next outburst. “Besides, I have my own pet names for him.” I talk to Isaac, but my eyes are locked on Charlie’s as the words leave my mouth. “Sometimes, he’s Nimrod, per the ancient definition. Other times, he’s pencil dick.” I mock smile at Charlie, annoyed when his lips curve up at the corners. The guy must have a stone heart because nothing ever penetrates that hard shell.
He smirks. “So, you think I’m a tyrannical leader with a long, thin dick which is interesting because you may well be right on the first, but we both know the second is a big, fat lie.”
I spot the evil glint in his eye as he eyeballs my ex, and I clamp my hand down over his mouth before he can spill the beans on our night together. Not that it really matters. Isaac and I had broken up by then, and despite what he just said to me, we’re not getting back together.
Still, I spent three years of my life with Isaac, and there was a time I thought he was the one.
What he thinks of me matters.
“Charles.” A willowy blonde sidles up to Charlie, circling her slender arm around his back, while peering up at him with a confused expression on her face.
A flash of annoyance ghosts over Charlie’s face, but it’s so fleeting I’m not sure my drunken mind didn’t conjure it up.
“Darling.” Charlie smiles adoringly at the woman as he envelops her in his arms. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I just bumped into the help, and I felt obligated to say hello.”
My hackles are instantly raised. It’s one thing for him to insult me in the confines of his office and quite another to insult me with an audience.
“Consider your obligation fulfilled, Charles.” I enunciate the word on purpose, knowing he’ll hate it because I’ve watched him bristle time and time again when some of the older members of staff call him that.
I guess it reminds him of his father.
At any other time, I would never stoop so low, but my claws are out, and it’s every man, and woman, for themselves. “I’m contractually bound to deal with you during the work week, but I’m under no legal compulsion to stomach your disgusting company outside of the office, so do us both a favor and fuck the hell off.”
Heat rolls off Charlie in deadly waves, knocking me off kilter. He tightens his grip on his date as he drills me with a look that promises a world of pain for daring to challenge him in public.
Well, fuck him.
He can’t dictate to me what I do and say outside working hours.
“Careful, Bumbling.” His dark voice slashes at my alcohol-fueled confidence, making large dents in it. “I’ll think you’ll find, if you read the small print of your contract, that you represent the business at all times and any conduct unbecoming of a company employee can result in disciplinary action.”
The blonde smirks, clearly enjoying the show, and I scowl at her as Isaac opens his mouth, to defend me, no doubt. I send him a subtle headshake, and he clamps his lips shut.
“Insubordination of the president of the company, irrespective of where or when it takes place, is strictly forbidden. Check the disciplinary rules if you don’t believe me.” He swipes his finger along the screen of his cell, thrusting it at me.
I refuse to take it or this bullshit charade. “Just go away, Charlie.”
His green eyes turn darker. “Apologize and I’ll let this pass.”
I crank out a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” I turn to Isaac. “Are you ready to leave?”
“I was ready the instant this asshole stuck his nose into our business,” he replies, taking my elbow and steering me away.
But Charlie grabs hold of my other arm, drawing me back. “Think of how badly you need this job, Demi,” he whispers in my ear, and I hate the shudder that ripples through my body as his warm breath swirls around me. “Who’ll pay the medical bills if you’re out of work?”
My fists clench into balls at his veiled threat. He’s never indicated he knew anything about my personal life, but I should’ve known he’d pry into my affairs. It’s not exactly a secret around the office, because most people I work with knew my dad, but Charlie has never once brought him up to me.
“Do. Not. Bring. My father. Into this.” I grind my teeth down as anger radiates through ever cell in my body.
“Drop to your knees, kiss my feet, and we’ll call it even.”
I don’t need to think about it. Not even for one second. Hell will freeze before I kiss that asshole’s feet or bow down to him in any way. “Get fucked, Charlie.”
He barks out a dry laugh. “Oh, I fully intend to.” He shoots a wickedly carnal look at the blonde hanging off his arm, and most every woman in the vicinity swoons because they’ve all clearly got shit for brains.
“Darling. I need you now,” she says, rubbing her lithe body up against his as she palms his crotch, uncaring who sees.
“Let’s go,” Isaac hisses, taking my hand in his large, warm palm.
“Enjoy my sloppy seconds,” Charlie says, projecting his voice so everyone around us can hear. “She’s not even that good of a lay, but if you’re that desperate, go for it.”
My hand is raised before I’ve even processed the motion, and I slap him firmly across one cheek, my entire body thrumming with anger. “How dare you.” I push myself all up in his face, watching out of the corner of my eye as Bo and Leo materialize from the dance floor, holding Isaac back, attempting to talk him out of going postal on Charlie’s ass.
Charlie’s eyes are cold and devoid of emotion as he takes hold of the blonde’s hand while staring at me. “Thank you, Bumbling, for finally giving me what I’ve wanted since that night.”
He leans down close to my face, and Isaac shouts and squirms as the guys struggle to hold him at bay. “Your ass on a platter.” His lips curl into a sneer. “Don’t bother showing up on Monday. You can collect your termination papers from the human resources department.” He storms off, towing the blonde, teetering on high heels, behind him.
“Fuck.” I slap a hand against my forehead. “What the hell have I done?”
“He can’t fire you,” Bo says, when we’re back at the apartment he shares with Xena and Leo.
“Eh, not to be the harbinger of doom, but he probably can,” Leo says, handing me a vodka shot.
“Babe. We’re supposed to be cheering her up,” Xena protests, warning Leo to back down with her eyes.
“Leo is right.” The asshole was too. Now that I’m sober-ish, I’m seeing things in a different light. “It is against company policy to do or say anything which might bring the company into disrepute. I’m pretty sure slapping the president, the current majority shareholder of the business, in public, falls into that category.”
“From what you’ve said, he’s been verbally abusive to you since he took over that role. Maybe, if you lodge a countercomplaint against him, it will go away,” Isaac says, rubbing my arm in a gesture I used to find comforting.
I wiggle my arm out from under him, pretending I don’t see his puzzled, hurt expression. “I’m pretty sure it’s too late for that. If I bring it up now, it’ll look like I’m trying to fabricate an argument not to fire me.” I knock back my vodka shot, relishing the sharp taste as it glides down my throat. “I should’ve just bitten my tongue. God knows, I’ve had enough practice around him.”
“He can’t get away with this,” Isaac huffs, indignant on my behalf. “He’s a fucking bully, and there are laws against that.” He runs his hands through his sandy-blond hair in a clear show of agitation.
“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise,” Xena says, topping up my shot glass. “He’s made your life hell.”
“And you’ve almost a year’s experience under your belt now,” Bo adds. “That will look great on your résumé. I’m sure you’ll pick up work elsewhere.”
Maybe, I’ll apply for a job at Manning Motors.
That’d be sure to piss Charlie off.
I shrug. “Maybe.” Who knows, perhaps my friends are right and it’s the best thing to happen, so why do I feel so ill at the thought of leaving?
The others discreetly disappear, giving Isaac and me some time alone to talk. Xena has offered him her couch for the night, because I’ve already got dibs on the guest bedroom.
“I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all that shit on your own,” Isaac says, handing me a cup of chamomile tea.
I pull the blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over my bare legs and feet. “It hasn’t been so bad. The job is actually more interesting than I thought it’d be.”
“But it’s not accounting.”
“No.” I blow on the top of the cup, taking a tentative sip of the hot tea. “But it probably would’ve led to a job in the finance department.”
“How’s your dad?” he asks, purposely switching the subject.
“He’s just been diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, baby.” He scoots closer, attempting to pull me into his arms, but I shuck him off.
“Don’t, Isaac. And I’m not your baby anymore.”
“You’re pissed.”
I turn to face him.
He’s biting on his lower lip and running his hands through his hair. “I know I went a bit crazy these past few months, but you left me, and I was distraught.” He leans forward, stabbing me with a sincere look. “None of the girls I was with meant anything.” He reaches for my hand, but I shake my head, and he pulls back. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
“You’ve a funny way of showing it,” I say, in between sipping my tea.
The truth is, I was a little hurt when my ex-roommate and best friend told me about Isaac’s new manwhore rep around campus but not nearly as hurt as I should’ve been. It became obvious, very quickly, that what Isaac and I shared was over long before I broke things off. Something I did because trying to maintain a long-distance relationship, as well as working full-time, and caring for my disabled father, would never have worked out.
Even though it killed me back then, I knew ending things was the best thing for both of us.
And I haven’t regretted my decision, because the truth is, I haven’t missed him.
Not in the way I should.
“You didn’t reach out to me, at all, after I left UMaine. Not even to inquire after Dad.” That disappointed me above everything, because Isaac and I were great friends before we became more, and I thought he might at least have checked in on me from time to time.
“I wanted to, but you hurt me.”
I stare at him incredulously, wondering where the sweet, considerate guy I fell for has disappeared to.
I guess I’m not the only one who’s changed.
“Isaac. My dad had a stroke. He almost died. He was paralyzed and kicked out of his job. It’s not like I made a conscious choice to break up with you, but it was the only decision that made sense.” I shake my head in disgust. “And from what I’ve heard, it seems like you didn’t have much difficulty moving on.”
He, at least, has the decency to look ashamed.
Silence engulfs us for a few minutes.
“Did you really hook up with that jerk?” he asks, and I’m tempted to hit him. After everything I just said, that’s what he wants to say to me?
“It was one time. When I had temporary brain failure,” I quip, because that’s the only way I can reconcile the epic mistake in my head.
“Have you dated?” he asks, continuing to pry.
Man, he really is clueless. “I barely have time to breathe most days, let alone date, Isaac.”
“I’m sorry I abandoned you. That was insensitive and hurtful of me.” He moves in closer. “But I’m here now. I want to be here for you if you’ll let me make it up to you.” Sincerity oozes from his pores, and I know he means it, but he’s got blinders on.
“I forgive you, Isaac, and I appreciate you saying that, and coming to see me, but what we have is in the past, and it’s time you forgot about me. I will always cherish the time we shared, but we’re not right for one another.”
His chest heaves as he stares at me. “Is it him?”
My jaw trails to the floor. “Are you serious right now? Did you not see what went down earlier?”
“I saw exactly what went down earlier,” he retorts, in a clipped tone, standing up and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. “I don’t think I’m the one who has issues seeing things clearly.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “He’s not good enough for you, Demi. And I’ve seen his type before. He’ll only use you up and then toss you aside. You’re worth way more than that.”
Yes, I am.
I watch him walk out of Xena’s apartment and out of my life for good.
I also know I’m better than my behavior tonight. But the million-dollar question is, what am I going to do about this new mess I find myself in?
CHAPTER 5
Charlie
I wake Sunday morning with a monster hangover, thanks to the half bottle of JD I poured down my throat when I got home. I roll over in my bed, groaning as I stretch my arm out, feeling along the top of my bedside table for my cell. Finding it, I turn over and prop myself up with some pillows against the headboard.
I stay in bed as I scroll through my inbox. Most are work emails, and I’ve a couple of missed calls from some guys I know from Parkhurst. I ignore the angry texts from Emilia, deleting and blocking her number so I don’t have to deal with her shit ever again.
She was not impressed when I dropped her home and refused to come in. I had zero interest in screwing her after what went down at the club. Instead, I jerked off in the shower to thoughts of Demi’s rage-filled eyes, coming violently against the tile wall.
After I call Lil, I pull on some sweats and pad downstairs in my bare feet. Ghosts of the past follow me as I traipse into the kitchen, and I remember noisy mornings, filled with conversation and laughter, Mom’s homemade honey and apple muffins, and Dad’s freshly squeezed orange juice.
I plant my hands on the edge of the sink, staring absently out the window at the massive gardens spanning the rear of the vast property, wondering how it all went so wrong.
I squeeze my eyes shut, warding off further memories, and the painful ache in my chest serves as a constant reminder of everything I’ve lost.
After a few minutes, I force my tired body to move, switching the Keurig on and pouring a bowl of granola. The only sound in the room is a crunching noise as I shovel spoonsful of cereal in my mouth.
There are a lot of things I hate about my life now, but the constant silence is the thing I hate most. My desolation is reflected in the hollow echo bouncing off the walls, and I can’t stand it any longer.
Jumping up, I storm into the laundry room, grabbing my sneakers. I lace them tight and exit the house via the rear side door, jogging to the running track that skims the perimeter of the woodland at the far side of our garden.
I only have my depressive thoughts for company as I attempt to outrun my demons, and I push my body hard while I’m silently screaming inside.
I arrive back at the house sometime later, dripping in sweat and breathless, but at least, I feel more alive, and the brisk morning air has chased some of the cobwebs from my throbbing head.
I grab a quick shower, pop a couple of pain pills, and head down to my home office to complete an assignment due this week. I pass by the locked door of my father’s study with the usual lump in my throat. Neither Mom nor I could stomach going in there after he died, so we locked it up and threw away the key.
After I complete the assignment, I pull up the app on my cell, checking on Demi’s whereabouts. She’s only a half mile from home, and I’m tempted to get in my car, drive over there, and tell her to forget about last night, but I manage to talk myself out of it.
&n
bsp; Her leaving the office is the best option for both of us, because nothing good can come from this obsession.
Abby was the last woman I fixated on, and everyone knows how badly that turned out.
She might not believe it, but Demi leaving Barron Banking and Financial Investment Services is the best way of keeping her safe.
Knox calls me bright and early on Monday morning to confirm he’s allocated a man to follow Uncle George and he’s personally going to investigate him. I tell him to keep me updated and end the call, climbing into the back seat of my chauffeur-driven car and instructing the driver to take me to the office instead of campus. I want to be there when Demi arrives, so I can see what she does. I also want to work my way through the mountain of unopened mail, so I’ve purposely chosen not to drive myself today.
Arthur Fleming, the CEO, is the only other person present on the executive floor when I arrive. The office doesn’t officially open for another couple hours, so it’s not unusual it’s this quiet.
“No classes today?” he inquires when I enter the small kitchenette.
“I need to catch up on a few things here that were more urgent,” I say, and it’s not really a lie.
“Have you met with Simon Reed yet?” He takes his coffee and leans back against the counter, determined to make small talk.
“The meeting is set for next week.” I fix my coffee, giving him my back.
It’s not that I don’t like the guy.
I like him well enough.
But there’s a natural competitive rivalry between us.
Technically, Arthur’s on borrowed time, because the agreement Dad made with him was that I will take the CEO role, the pole position within the firm, once I graduate with my degree and provided I’ve successfully passed all stages of the training plan he left in place for me.
When Dad first died, I assumed I would be installed as CEO immediately. But Dad had covered all his bases, leaving clear instructions that if he died before I graduated Rydeville University, I was to continue my education and work part-time in the company as president, the second-most senior role and a position that gives me access to every facet of the company while I learn the ropes.
Charlie Page 5