Man in Love

by Laurelin Paige

  “And what happens if your father drags it out? What if he offers a second term of funding? What will he do to bribe you next?”

  “He won’t. I won’t. It won’t matter.” He put his hand on my hip, but I stepped out of his hold.

  “You say that, but trust me, I know how these things go. It’s always something else. Always another reason to stay under his thumb. He’ll never let you be your own man.”

  “No,” he said adamantly. “It won’t be like that.”

  “See, I know that you can’t promise that because I’ve had a lot of relationships like that. I’m an experienced string-along girl, Scott, ready to believe the next line. Easily convinced this time will be different.”

  “Are you saying I’m stringing you along?”

  “Maybe not purposefully…”

  “Stop. Listen to me.” He gave me a stern look. “These are all excuses. Yes, it will be hard. Yes, there will be parts of it that are truly miserable, but we’ll have each other.”

  “In secret.”

  “In secret,” he admitted.

  It should have been so easy to accept that. The terms were straightforward enough. It was more of a commitment than any other guy I’d been with had ever given me. This was a step up for a girl like me.

  Except...

  “I’m not like that anymore. You made me not like that. You made me know that I’m better than that. I don’t deserve to be a secret. And you asking me to be one now is like…” I tried to think of an example, settling on the first one that came to mind. “It’s like Pretty Woman. When Richard Gere asks Julia Roberts to be his glorified whore after convincing her she wasn’t just a whore.”

  “I am not asking you to be my whore.”

  “I’m not saying that you are. I’m saying you can’t convince me I’m worth more and then ask me to accept less. You can’t tell me to expect to get and then ask me to settle. I expect all of you. I’m worth all of you.”

  “You are,” he said, closing the space between us in a rush, wrapping me in his arms. “You are. And I want to give you all of me. And I want all of you. I’ll call my father, okay? I’ll call the whole thing off, and we can be together.”

  For half a second, I felt relieved.

  But the relief was instantly replaced with something hard and hollow. “You and I both know that would turn the beautiful thing we have into something selfish and ugly.”

  “Tess…” His grip tightened around me. “It feels like you’re breaking up with me.”

  I couldn’t have said the words myself. But now that he had said them first... “I don’t want to.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I can’t.” The tears were back, slipping down my cheeks like a slow rainfall. “I can’t stay with you like this.”

  “No. No. Don’t say that.”

  I couldn’t say it again. My throat was too tight.

  But it didn’t mean I could stay, though a strong part of me was begging to do just that. For the night, at least. For the week. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Try it out and see.

  And then get more invested? More hurt? More heartbroken?

  Shaking my head, I reached around my back to pull his hands off my waist. Pulling away from him felt like resisting against an intense magnetic field. Like I was fighting against the laws of nature. Like it was wrong.

  I wouldn’t be able to leave if he didn’t let me go.

  “Please…” I whimpered.

  “Don’t,” he said again. But his grip released. “This is not how this ends. I don’t accept this. I’ll find another solution.”

  “I hope you do,” I said, backing away slowly. One step. Another. “Call me when. Okay?” I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. I spun around and hurried down the hall, toward the door.

  “Tess. Tess!” It was a wounded sound. Sharp and shrill and unignorable.

  He was right there when I turned, and I buried myself in him. One more touch. One more embrace. One more brush of my lips against his.

  When I broke away this time, it felt like I’d lost a part of me. “God, it really hurts.”

  “Don’t do this.”

  But my hand was on the doorknob. As though I were outside myself, I watched it turn, watched it open just enough to let me out. “I have to go.”

  And then I was gone.

  Sixteen

  Scott

  “You look like shit,” Kendra said when I met her in the lobby of my great-aunt’s Upper East Side apartment building.

  Peering from behind the dark lenses of my aviators, I frowned at her, which pretty much meant I kept the same expression I’d been wearing on my face all week and pointed it in her direction. “Thank you. Much appreciated.”

  She bit back a smile. “Anytime.”

  Wordlessly, we checked in with the doorman and climbed into the elevator, my head throbbing with every step I took. I probably shouldn’t have drunk as much as I had the night before. Or the night before that. Or the night before that. I was a walking picture of hashtag regrets.

  The copious amounts of alcohol definitely contributed to my ragged appearance, but the excessive drinking wasn’t the only bad behavior I’d engaged in over the six days since I’d last seen Tess. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I’d managed to make it to the office, only to lock myself behind my door and ignore all the work on my desk. Instead, I’d been making phone calls. Hours upon hours of phone calls, reaching out to every high-powered business contact I had, trying to find a suitable company to sponsor the DRF in SIC’s place. Surprisingly, a few of them nibbled, but not a one was willing to contribute anything near the dollar amount that I’d gotten my father to agree to.

  By Friday, I’d been too despondent to even try.

  That was the day I broke down and ended up in front of Tessa’s door. I’d called first—I’d been calling all week. Texting too. She hadn’t answered any of my attempts at communication, which should have been a goddamned hint, but I was miserable and missing her, so to Jersey City I went. When neither her nor Teyana answered the door, I made myself at home in her hallway. That lasted all of seventeen hours before the landlord had me kicked out.

  So then I spent the next day and a half parked in my car outside her building. Another reason I was looking so haggard.

  Add to it that I was feeling immense guilt for bringing Kendra to Ida’s birthday party when I’d told Tess I wouldn’t. I hadn’t planned to come at all until my father had called and demanded I show up with my fiancée on my arm.

  Tess was right. It would never end with my father. It would be one thing and then another thing and then another. I would always be under his thumb.

  “Why am I doing this again?”

  I’d meant the muttering for myself, but since she was standing right next to me, Kendra answered. “Because we want the DRF to be funded.”

  The elevator opened on Ida’s floor. As soon as we got out, I turned to her. “Tess said you sat on this foundation for more than a year. If you care so much about it now, why didn’t you pitch it before? And don’t say because you were worried about our relationship because that doesn’t explain why you didn’t pitch it elsewhere.”

  “I did pitch it elsewhere. I pitched it everywhere.”

  She likely couldn’t see my brow furrow since I had yet to take off my sunglasses. “Tess didn’t seem—”

  “I didn’t tell Tess,” she said, answering before I could fully ask. “And before you ask why, none of your business. We can play lovebirds as much as we need to in order to make this go through, but I get to keep my secrets.”

  I was definitely curious, but fair enough. If I was going to press her on anything, her personal shit wasn’t at the top of my list. “Uh, I stopped by her apartment a few times, and she was never there. Any idea…?”

  “Yeah, I heard you broke up,” she said.

  “Temporarily.”

  “Is she aware that it’s temporary?”

  She’d better be aware.

  But I
wasn’t going to dig into the whole thing with Kendra. “Do I get to play the none-of-your-business card too?”

  “Cute.” Her feigned smile disappeared. “She asked for the week off to visit her mother upstate.”

  “Ah. Good. I wondered.” I felt better knowing she was somewhere safe and with someone supportive. “Did Teyana go with her? She was never home either.”

  Kendra fiddled with the strand of pearls around her neck. “She wasn’t? Weird. Tey and I don’t really, um, you know. So I couldn’t tell you.”

  What was weird was how Kendra’s eyes shifted everywhere at the question, though maybe that was just due to feeling uncomfortable about the fallout in her friendship with Teyana. Tess hadn’t told me a whole lot about it but enough to know things between them were awkward.

  “Anyway,” she said. “Are we going to keep standing in the hall, or are we going to go do this thing?”

  “Hold on. One more thing.” I pulled the flask out from inside my jacket pocket and took a swig before offering it to her. She considered briefly, then declined, so I tucked it back where it came from. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  The scene inside Ida’s apartment was as tedious as I’d imagined it would be. Several generations of the Sebastian family were scattered throughout her three-thousand-square-foot penthouse—siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles—and I was in the mood to be around exactly none of them.

  Of course, the two people I least wanted to see were the two who found me within five minutes of our arrival.

  “Kendra, you look lovely,” my mother said, her scrutinizing gaze taking in every inch of my bride-to-be before turning her attention to me.

  She immediately frowned. “Lose the sunglasses, Scott.”

  “It’s family, Mom. No one cares.”

  “He’s hungover,” my father said, guessing correctly.

  “You’re thirty-five, Scott. Too old to be acting like a college frat boy.”

  “I’m thirty-five, Mom. Too old to be lectured by my mother about how to behave.”

  She pursed her lips, and I sensed her debating about whether or not to continue with her scolding. Finally, she turned to her husband. “He’s yours. I’ll take Kendra around for introductions.”

  Kendra gave me a helpless look as my mother towed her off, but if she was hoping I’d save her, she obviously hadn’t learned yet that there was no rescue from Margo Sebastian.

  She’d figure it out soon enough.

  Being left with just my father made things easier. He’d bartered enough of my life from me. Like hell he was getting any more.

  “I showed up with my fiancée,” I said before he could start in on me. “That’s all you get.” I started to walk away but turned back to add, “And not sure you can call it hungover when I’m pretty sure I’m still drunk.”

  Or would be soon enough. In front of him, I took another swig from my flask. Then with a smirk, I set off to find a quiet spot in the apartment so I could sulk.

  Finding privacy at a Sebastian gathering was never easy. Fortunately, we’d arrived just in time for the cake to be served, and everyone swarmed toward the dining area to sing to the ninety-year-old birthday girl. I took the opportunity to commandeer the billiard table in the back room, shutting the room’s french doors behind me in hopes it would deter anyone from joining me.

  I managed to sink a handful of balls before I heard the doors push open. I didn’t bother looking to see who it was. They closed again before the newcomer addressed me. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  I glanced up to find Brett rolling up one shirt sleeve. “I don’t want any cake. You can give my slice to Cousin Berta, if she’s asking for it.”

  He rolled up his other sleeve. “Not what I’m here for.”

  I didn’t really care, but since I was sure he was going to tell me anyway, I stood and looked at him expectantly. “Then what are you here for?”

  “I’m here to give you what you deserve. I just can’t decide if that’s a punch to the gut or a punch to the face. After what you did to Tess, you probably deserve both.”

  Ah. Yes. I’d seemed to have forgotten their little friendship.

  “Which thing I did to Tess, exactly, are you wanting to punish me for?” I was pretty sure my list of bad deeds was longer than his.

  He looked at me like I was stupid to not know. “For stringing her along while you’re engaged to someone else, you asshole.”

  “Technically, I wasn’t engaged when she and I started dating.”

  “I don’t fucking care about semantics.”

  I studied him, wondering if he’d have the nerve to actually hit me. “Tell you what.” I nodded to the billiards table. “I’ll play you for it. I win, I’ll give you two shots, anywhere you want to strike me.”

  “If you win?” he asked suspiciously. “Then what do I get if I win?”

  “If you win, I’ll pay someone to beat me up in your place. You won’t even have to get your hands dirty.”

  “Sounds like a win-win to me.”

  “Sounds like a win-win to me too.” Actually, since I wasn’t confident that Brett would put his all into punching me if he actually got the chance, I was considering throwing the game.

  Because he was right—I deserved it. I deserved to be beaten to a bloody pulp. I deserved to be black and blue.

  And honestly, feeling as shitty as I did, it wasn’t like I could possibly feel any worse.

  “Lag for the opening shot?” he asked, grabbing a stick from the cue rack.

  “Nah. You can have it.” While he racked the balls, I took off my jacket, making sure to pull out my flask before rolling up my own shirt sleeves. “Pub pool rules?”

  “Works for me.”

  Taking a long swig, I watched as he took the opening break shot, in which he pocketed both a striped and solid ball.

  “Colors,” he called, then set up his next shot. He was just about to strike it when the doors pushed open again.

  Never any privacy at a Sebastian gathering.

  “There you are,” Grandpa Irving said, looking at me.

  Nothing like feeling popular when I most wanted to be ignored. “Here I am,” I sighed.

  “The question is, where is she?”

  “If you mean Kendra, I don’t really know, Grandpa, and honestly, I don’t really care.” I tipped the flask back again. It was starting to feel light. Too light.

  Grandpa shut the doors behind him and came toward me, an accusing look in his eyes that made me pretty sure he wasn’t after my alcohol. “I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about Tess.”

  Brett stood up, abandoning his shot. “He knows about Tess?”

  I ignored my cousin’s question. “She’s not here. She broke up with me, if you must know.”

  “Good for her,” Brett said, his commentary quite unnecessary in my opinion.

  At the same time, the elder man said, “As she should!”

  Grandpa’s opinion stung a bit more. Not that he wasn’t wrong.

  “Couldn’t agree more.” I swallowed back most of the remaining whiskey. Hopefully, Great-Aunt Ida had a decent liquor collection I could dip into because the mimosas and bloody marys the caterers were serving were not going to do it.

  Grandpa swiped the flask out of my hand. “And that’s what you want?”

  “Of course, it’s not what I want. I told you how I feel about her. But it’s what it is because she doesn’t deserve to be treated like a...what were your words? A sidepiece.”

  “When I said that, you were talking about getting out of your engagement, not the other way around. What the hell are you doing showing up with the Kendra girl? Announcing you’re marrying her to the press? You said that wasn’t going to happen.”

  “It’s…” My eyes shifted to Brett, and I hesitated, not wanting to say too much with someone in the room who could potentially blow my ruse to my father. “It’s complicated. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  He threw my near-empty flask to the ground. “Co
mplicated my ass. Didn’t you hear anything I said when I told you about sacrifice?”

  “I did sacrifice,” I said, ripping off my sunglasses so I could look him in the eye. “That’s why I’m not here with Tess, Grandpa, because you said if I loved her I would sacrifice, and so that’s exactly what I did. I gave her up so she could have the thing that was most important to her.”

  “I think you’re wrong about that, buddy, because I’m pretty damn sure the thing most important to her is you.”

  “Her foundation. The sponsorship she wanted. Remember?” It was silly how much it hurt to acknowledge out loud that I hadn’t been at the top of her list, even though we’d both been there when she’d said it.

  Grandpa looked puzzled. “Your father used it as a bargaining chip?”

  “Wouldn’t sign unless I married the ‘right’ girl. So here I am.”

  “Wait.” Brett took a step in our direction, reminding me of his presence. “Your dad said you had to marry Kendra if you wanted the DRF to go through?”

  My eyes darted toward him but landed back on Grandpa who asked, “That was your version of sacrifice?”

  Seriously? I was fucking torn to shreds inside, and he was minimizing what I’d done to get like that? “Pretty big sacrifice, if you ask me,” I said, slipping my sunglasses in my breast pocket with one hand, the other still clutching the cue stick.

  He nodded toward the latter. “Can I have that?”

  “Uh, sure.” I handed him the stick.

  Only to have the end of it slammed forcefully on my foot. “Ow!” Immediately, he slammed it down again. “Fuck, Grandpa. What the hell?” For an old man, he had a good deal of strength.

  “That’s not what I meant when I told you to sacrifice, you idiot.”

  “Then what did you mean? Give up the sponsorship she wants instead? Because that doesn’t seem like a great way to prove I love her.”