The room spins as she spits her answer. She needs an easy way out?
Why don’t you go back to New York? That was pretty easy the last time when things got difficult between us.
I exhale, lifting my eyebrows. “Because I have to protect my company from being fired without notice. That clause will give me time to amend any mistake before losing the contract.” I swallow, working to keep my voice flat. Fighting the fucking rage.
“I offer to give you an eighteen-month term,” she fires back, ironically, she uses a cold voice. “You'll send us a weekly report, and we can end the contract at any time. If you worry we'll fire you, don’t. As long as you do the job as promised, we have no reason to terminate it.”
“Not everything is black and white. There’s a gray underlining, Hazel,” I chastise, my chest is on fire. “How do I know that you won’t terminate us without giving us a chance to fix what we wronged? In the real world, you try to work things out before you part ways.”
She blinks twice. “My plan isn’t to end the deal. I trust that your company is as good as your customers raved when we called them.”
“I need leverage,” I demand. “Something tangible that tells me you won’t leave me hanging if I fuck up.”
“Are we still talking about the contract?” Her clipped tone is a punch to my gut. Those big eyes flare, erasing the sweetness in her face. “Because I feel like this isn’t about work, but us.”
I take a deep breath, calming myself.
“It’s not like you have explained or apologized for what happened between us, Elliot.” She scrunches her nose.
“My point exactly. You never allowed me to do that.” I squeeze my lips together, taking several breaths. “Because if you had done that, we could’ve saved what we had.”
“Why does it matter now?” She presses her hands onto the desk, rising from her seat. “You moved on long ago. You’re happily married.”
“Married?” My head jerks back. “Why would you assume I’m married?”
She raises her left hand, showing me her bare ring finger.
I stare at mine, smiling at the ring. Standing up, show my hand, waiting for her to recognize it.
Her eyes widen as she draws a sharp breath. “Why are you still wearing it?”
As I’m about to argue, my phone buzzes several times.
Kyle: I need you in Napa. The pipes in the main house burst.
I rub the back of my neck, then walk toward the desk and take the contract I already signed. “The renovation is straightforward. We’ll start as soon as you wire the fifty percent. Call me if you want to sign the other one. You know my terms.”
“Why are you wearing the ring?” She insists, staring at my hand.
“We can talk about it later, I have an emergency.”
“Elliot,” she uses her demanding tone. “Are you married?”
“It’s always been you, Hazel.”
“I don’t understand!”
My phone buzzes again, then it rings. I check the screen, and it’s Kyle. I need you here. Now.
“I have to go.” I pick up my things. “Email me when you decide what we are doing with the contract. Eighteen months and I need a thirty-day notice to terminate it.”
“You can’t just leave, I need an explanation.”
She does, and today of all days I don’t have time to stay and discuss anything. “Because I said forever.” My voice comes out rough, my muscles tighten as the urgency to leave mixes with her question.
This fucking day can’t get any worse.
“That’s not enough!” I hear her coming right behind me.
The elevator doors are open, I step inside, tapping the level of the parking lot. When I turn, I see her glaring at me. Her nostrils flaring as her blazing eyes stare at me. Scott is right behind her, watching me. His narrowed gaze on me. He’s close enough to protect her, but he’s giving her space to be her own person. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to fuck up—again—so he can swipe her away from me.
I press the arrows keeping the elevator open. “I have an emergency. I swear I’d stay if this weren't important.”
“You can’t wait a few minutes just to give me an explanation. At least, I deserve that much,” Hazel barks.
Here we go again. Hazel requests my attention while everything else is getting in the way. She used to be my priority. But after Dad died, I pushed her away. My mother lost her shit. My siblings needed me. I tried to be who she wanted, but I failed her.
“I offered an explanation years ago,” I recall the time she caught me at the strip club, and ignored all my calls. “You waited this long, I’m sure you can wait for a few days.”
“This is why I don’t understand you? You just said fucking forever. But as usual, you don’t stick to that.” Her shoulders slump, the pain in her eyes breaks my fucking heart.
“Even after everything I did for you, you left me anyway.”
“Everything you did for me?” Her eyes flare with anger. “How about what I did for you?”
“You did nothing,” I throw the words back at her face. “While I broke my back for my family and I did everything you wanted. Actually, didn’t you move away to find a better life?”
“That’s not fair.” Her face turns red in anger, her hands curl into fists. “I moved because of us. You needed help. I needed college. I was working my ass for you and your family. Why am I even discussing this with you? I refused to listen to you because you lied. You used me while you had a different life. Did you think about it while you cheated?” She tosses her hands up in the air.
“I never used you.”
“You took the money I sent, didn’t you?”
Staring at her, I try to understand the words she throws like lethal shots that aim to my chest.
“I worked forty hours a week while going to school, so your family could pay the backed-up mortgage,” she says, her voice firm. “Who do you think paid for your mother’s therapies? I had to learn how to become indispensable to my grandfather so I could continue working while I was at school.”
“What are you saying?”
“That you don’t understand what real love or forever means,” she concludes.
My phone buzzes again.
“Just leave, McFee.”
She turns around and Scott Everhart is waiting for her with open arms. Not literally, they don’t hug. But he’s right in front of her, listening to her talk. Her body is rigid, her hands are moving fast. He focuses on her, looking at her the way I used to when she’d come hurt after seeing her parents leave without an explanation.
“Bee,” I call out to her, but the doors close. I bang the metal walls with my fist. Fuck, I had to hit her right where I know it hurts her most. How can I convince her she’s my life when I always put everyone else before her?
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
I’m shaken, my stomach hardens, and I let a loud exhale once I climb into my truck. Waterfront might be the best company we’ve landed but being around Hazel kills me. I’m furious with her, and with that fucking asshole who seems to be everywhere. But most of all, I am enraged with myself.
And what the fuck was she talking about doing everything for my family?
I press my fingers on my eyes as I wait for my pulse to slow down. Then, I call Kyle who I bet knows more about Hazel’s altruism toward my family.
“Yell-ow,” he answers the phone.
“We need to talk.”
“How about you drive your ass to Napa?” His voice booms on the other side of the phone.
“Where did you get all that money to help my family?” I control my tone.
“I haven’t sent a penny to you or your family,” he responds. “I need you here.”
I scrub my face. “After Hazel left for New York, you kept handing me money until…”
Why didn’t I put everything together?
The day she caught me, Kyle stopped helping me financially. The funds his grandfather had left him were gone. I got upset be
cause I believed he had blown it in drugs.
“If you needed more money, why didn’t you tell me?” she said while on the phone. Her voice trembled with rage and hurt. “You had received plenty. Why on earth wasn’t it enough? I tried to be enough.”
I scratch my temple, as every piece falls into place. I had hated Hazel for her reaction, but her attitude was justifiable. The money Kyle had sent was plenty to pay Devon’s tuition and support my family. He claimed my family needed it more than anyone else.
“It’s a good deed,” Kyle argued. “My grandfather would be happy to know that his hard work was helping others.”
It helped. Thanks to that money and my jobs, I could start my business. A wave of guilt crashes against my chest. I’m drowning in a pool of regret.
“There was never a trust fund, it was Hazel all along,” I mutter as the ripples of shame and regret travel through my body.
“Well, there wasn't a secret trust from my late grandfather,” he confesses. “Hazel asked me not to say anything. You would’ve rejected her help like you did when she first offered.”
His words sting my pride. How could I be so blind and selfish with her?
“But it was my obligation to take care of her.”
“That, my friend, isn’t my department,” he remains quiet for a few seconds.
“Dude, the house is flooding,” he reminds me.
“I’m on my way.”
“Good,” he exhales. “I have some advice for you. Be grateful. All that money I gave you came from Hazel. Nothing was mine.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” I grumble. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Why do you think she was livid when she caught you?” He retorts. “I wished I had been sober back then.”
I try to breathe, but my chest tightens more and more as the minutes pass. Hazel had more right to be upset than I wanted to admit. Without everything she sent, we wouldn’t have survived. I punch the wheel. How could I’ve been so careless with the woman I love?
“Get your ass here. We’ll figure out what to do about her later.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that's what makes you strong.” ― Sarah Dessen
Hazel
That was intense, I think, as I make an inventory of myself. My heart remains whole, though it’s beating at the speed of light. My legs tremble, but I’m still standing.
The memories of the night I saw him at the strip club are like two hands squeezing my throat, choking me. Our entire relationship plays like one of those movies that promise to be uplifting, and in the end, there’s only despair. After a few deep breaths, I control the surge of adrenaline that rushed through my body. I finally confronted him. Yet, he left without saying much.
“That was…”
“Too much?” I ask Scott.
“No, I’m proud of you. Usually, you bottle things up,” his voice is cautious.
“I couldn’t stay quiet. How dare he throws the word forever like confetti in the middle of the fourth of July.”
“Does he know the meaning of forever?” I toss my hands up in the air shaking my head. “I don’t think many people take love as serious as they should.”
Glancing at Scott, I notice he’s watching me intently. I wonder what he’s thinking, but mostly, I want to know if he has ever felt such deep love. “Have you ever felt or witnessed that kind of love?”
“What kind?” Scott’s eyes open wide as if my question has hit him on the head and he’s disoriented.
“The forever kind.”
Scott smiles at me and nods. “My parents.” He swallows harshly.
Those aquamarine eyes look toward the ceiling. I touch his cheek, smoothing it while trying to soothe his pain. It’s been years since they died, but he misses them just as much as he did back then.
“Theirs was bigger than the forever kind. They weren’t perfect, but their love was infinite. You could feel it. They loved us the same way.” His eyes find mine. “Sometimes, I sense it. It’s still around us.”
“Infinite…” I repeat, savoring the word.
The intensity of his eyes makes me look down to my feet. It makes me feel vulnerable, naked.
Can he see what’s going on inside my head?
It’s like I’m in the middle of spring cleaning. But instead of cleaning my memories and emotions, I’m hoarding new ones and creating a bigger mess. While I should throw away what doesn’t work, I grab the words infinite and love, and place them on top of a shelf. Maybe while I’m cleaning, I’ll search for just that.
My infinite love.
I imagine infinite love is made out of a unique material neither time nor distance would destroy. But is it possible to love so much that you make an imprint in the world? I think about what Elliot and I shared. What kind was it? It didn’t last. The prints of us washed away with every year that passed. Or maybe I’m not looking at them the way I used to.
We promised to love each other, forever, and now…
“The day you turn eighteen, I’ll marry you.” He took my hand, kissing it. “If you were eighteen, I’d ask you to marry me today.”
“And I would say yes—if I was eighteen.” I kissed his cheek and then his lips. “That’s the plan, spending the rest of my life with you—as Hazel Beesley-McFee. Living by the sea, with lots of children and all the love.”
All the love, forever with the one person who understands me and loves me as much as I love him. I couldn’t imagine life without him—without his heart.
“Ms. Beesley, Mr. Beesley is on line two,” Zoey walks toward me.
“Thank you, Zoey.”
I swallow hard, walking back to my office. My face flushes as I recall the scene I just made in front of my staff. No one is looking at me, now, but… I’m sure everyone heard it.
“God, Gramps would kill me if he knew what just happened.” I shake my head in horror.
“As your mentor, I have to say, that was highly unprofessional,” Scott says dryly.
“Because going to my office to have a testosterone throw-down was professional,” I retort, throwing him a mischievous smirk.
“Was I supposed to stay put while he was yelling at you?” His jaw tenses. “From the sound of it, things were getting out of hand.”
“I had everything under control.” I glare at him, my stomach grumbles. “I lost my cool because…I don’t know.”
He rolls his eyes, checks his watch. “He came close to lunchtime with a stupid request. We should tell him that our number one rule is, ‘we don’t disturb the hangry monster before her meal times.’” Scott pulls a granola bar out of nowhere.
“Where did you get this?” I smile at him trying to reach for it.
He lifts his arm, looking down at me. “It’s a magic trick I’ve perfected throughout the years. If you want it, what do we say?”
“Please, Scotty.” I use an innocent, yet, sultry voice. “Give me all of it.”
His eyes darken, his hand lowers, and I take it. He’s so easy to distract.
The wrapper with the picture of a surfing dude reminds me of Elliot. What’s the story behind the ring? He can’t just say that it was forever. Did he think about forever when he was screwing other women?
“Why would he still wear the wedding band?” I inquire, staring at my snack. Turning it around as if it had the answer. “Would you wear it after everything that happened? It’s been years since the divorce.”
Scott doesn’t answer. As I focus my attention on him, I realize he’s studying me. His lips pressing against each other. His breathing is shallow. Yep, I got to him. For a second I forget about Elliot, and remember how good it feels to be with Scott. But the picture shatters because he’s not the guy for me. The one who would offer me an endless supply of kisses, an unlimited supply of I love yous and a lifetime of memories and adventures.
“Right, I asked the wrong person. You don’t do the forever thing.” I let out a breath, slumping my sho
ulders. He’s so frustrating. “Which I can’t understand when you had such loving parents.”
For some unexplained reason and filled now with rage, I continue, “You claim to have witnessed the love of two people that was so big you can describe it as infinite, and you don’t dare to take a chance. Wouldn’t you want to experience that?”
We stare at each other for a few beats. My heart waits for a sign, for a gesture. Scott doesn’t move, I doubt he’s even breathing. I wonder what would’ve happened if his parents were still alive. Would he’d be happily married? From what they tell me, Christopher Everhart adored his wife and worshiped her every day. Is that why I wanted to switch what we had? Expecting he’d give me a magical life like the one his mother had…or like the one my sister lives with his youngest brother, Hunter.
“Why do you still have his last name?” His voice is rough, laced with a hint of jealousy.
“What?” I toss my head back laughing at his question.
“I wasn’t thinking about last names when I approached Hunter asking him to help me with the divorce. My goal was for it to be over so I could begin to heal.” I shrug, sighing.
“That was a long time ago. I was young and drowning in pain. It’s a matter of asking Hunt about the process. But a ring…a ring is removable. He took it off while he was with other women. Why is he keeping it now?”
He exhales loudly. Every muscle in his face and back are tense. “I’d wear the ring because I’m still in love with my ex-wife. But if I had a wife, I’d have cherished her and wouldn’t be fucking around with other women. I’d worship her every day.”
“You would?” My breath hitches as his eyes look at me with that tenderness that melts my insides.
Scott breaks the link that connects his soul to mine. He tilts his head toward my desk. “Your grandfather is waiting for you.”
He marches toward the door but stops, and without turning around, he says, “Once you’re done, let’s go to lunch and then to the animal shelter.”
“Tonight, we can bake chocolate chip cookies,” I offer.
He halts, glancing my way. “Mom’s recipe?”
“Is there any other kind?” I laugh, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
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