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Hatefully Yours

Page 4

by Callahan, Kelli


  “I know I should have told you when we were in high school.” I shook my head. “This is why I didn’t—how you reacted—how you’re reacting right now.”

  “I warned you, didn’t I? I knew you would just end up breaking her damn heart.” Boone growled under his breath. “You couldn’t even make it through one fucking night without sending her home in tears.”

  “I fucked up, but I want to fix it…” I exhaled sharply. “Come on, man. I just need to talk to her.”

  “How do you think this plays out, Trent?” He took a step forward. “Let’s say you walk into that house and convince her that you’re not an asshole. Then what? You’re going back to New York. She’s leaving Cabot Beach at the end of the summer. Are you going to fly across the country to see her?”

  “I don’t know, Boone!” I felt my frustration starting to grow. “I just know how I feel…”

  “Maybe it’s time you started thinking about how someone else feels.” Boone scoffed. “That’s always been your problem—you don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

  “That’s not fair.” My jaw tightened up.

  “Life isn’t fair.” Boone shrugged. “Get over it.”

  I realized that I wasn’t getting past Boone without throwing a punch, and while we weren’t as close as we once were, I couldn’t hit him because he was trying to do what was best for his sister. Underneath the exterior of an overprotective brother was the guy that I spent my childhood with. I still considered him my best friend, even if he wouldn’t call me that again. The truth was—I did remember my confession. I just tried to play it off the next day because I realized how much it upset him.

  I hated to admit that he was right. I couldn’t undo the damage I did, and even if I could, things would be extremely complicated. Brooke had four years of college ahead of her. I was almost done, and then I had to find a job—I had no idea where that would take me. I waited too long to make my move, and then I fucked it up because I wasn’t man enough to resist the temptation that was in front of me. I was a jerk—a fucking asshole—and I deserved to leave Cabot Beach for the last time with a smoldering crater in my chest.

  Fuck it. She deserves better…

  * * *

  One month later

  I didn’t keep in contact with my father after our last big fight, so it was a huge surprise when I received something in the mail from him. He must have known that I went to live with my mother. Maybe she told him, I had no idea. She was usually so strung out on the medication that the doctor prescribed to her that she couldn’t tell which way was up and which way was down. I stared at the envelope for a couple of minutes before I tore it open, and inside, I found a handwritten note, along with another envelope.

  “What the hell?” I stared at the note which was written in my father’s chicken scratch handwriting.

  Trent, someone left this in the mailbox. I thought you might want it. -Dad

  The envelope had my name on the front of it, and once I opened it, I realized that it was from Brooke. My heart sank into my stomach when I read the first line, and every line that followed was worse than the one before it.

  Dear Trent,

  The worst thing you ever did was give me hope. I was the fifteen-year-old girl crushing on her brother’s best friend. There was no way that a guy like you would ever be interested in a girl like me. You spent so much time at my house that summer. Sometimes, I would fantasize you were there just for me. But obviously, that was only a fantasy in my teenage mind.

  Something changed that night by the pool—I could see it in your eyes. I was scared that my mind was playing tricks on me. I wish you would have kept your thoughts to yourself. Then it would have made this pain a little more bearable. The betrayal hurt a thousand times more because you allowed me to hope.

  You broke me, but I won’t stay broken long. I’m going to finish this letter and cry my last tear. Then I will move on and never look back. The naive girl I used to be will always love you, but the woman I’m going to become will forget you ever existed. You could die tomorrow, and I wouldn’t shed a single tear. One day, I might even spit on your grave…

  Hatefully Yours,

  Brooke

  Chapter Six

  Brooke

  Five years later

  “What is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” An older guy with salt-and-pepper hair sat down beside me at the bar.

  “I was kind of hoping someone would buy me a drink.” I turned to him and smiled.

  He’s not the hottest guy in the room, but he’s the first one that has bothered to approach me, and I’m getting pretty thirsty…

  “Well then it looks like you’re on my tab tonight.” He winked at me. “Order whatever you want.”

  “Thank you.” I turned to the bartender as he approached. “I’ll have a martini—dry.”

  “Yes ma’am.” The bartender nodded.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.” The older man settled into his seat. “Actually, I know I haven’t. I would have noticed…”

  “You’re right.” I nodded. “I just moved here. New job…”

  “Ah, it’s your first night.” He smiled and patted my hand. “No problem. It’s always nice to see a fresh face.”

  It’s a little early to start touching me, but I’ll let that one pass.

  “You must come here fairly often if you know every face in the room.” I reached for my martini and took a sip as soon as the bartender put the glass down.

  “Only when I want to meet someone new.” He lifted a glass of what appeared to be whiskey and took a sip. “What’s your name anyway? I’m Ben.”

  “Brooke.” I smiled and put my glass down on the bar.

  “Ben and Brooke.” His smile got a little wider. “I like the sound of that.”

  “There is a certain ring to it.” I nodded and picked up my glass.

  It was my first night in New York where I didn’t have a lot of stuff to do, so I was looking to cut loose a little bit. I didn’t know if I would actually go home with Ben at the end of the night or lure him back to my apartment, but it wasn’t out of the question. Anything that lasted longer than one night, or a few passionate weekends definitely was. Relationships were complicated, and I had just escaped one that was unhealthy for me in every way possible. New York was a fresh start, and it was going to be a while before I was ready to trust someone with my heart again. That didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun—and Ben seemed like the kind of experienced man that would spoil me while we had it.

  That would be nice. It’s been a while since I got to sit back and enjoy the ride.

  “You’re very pretty, Brooke.” Ben motioned to my drink. “Do you want another one?”

  “Thank you.” I felt myself blush. “I would like one more—at least.”

  Ben and I talked for a little bit. He was an executive at a company I had never heard of. There were a few things I liked about him. He was charming. He might not have been the most attractive guy in the room, but he seemed nice. I could tell that he had a pretty impressive physique under his suit. He carried himself with a certain degree of confidence that usually pushed the right buttons. I didn’t care if he was older than me. It wasn’t like I wanted to settle down and raise a family with him. I just wanted to ruin a set of sheets and wake up with a smile on my face—if I had trouble walking the next morning, then that was even better.

  “One more?” Ben motioned to my glass as I made short work of my second drink. “Or can we get out of here?”

  “Where are we going?” I grinned. “Your place?”

  “Uh, no.” He shook his head quickly. “I’ll get a room at The Grand.”

  “That works too.” I nodded.

  Mini-bar? Room service? Sure, sign me up.

  I could see the lust in Ben’s eyes. I doubted he was looking for anything permanent. He put his hand on my thigh and teased the edge of my dress. The bartender must not have realized that we were about to trade alcoh
ol for a completely different kind of intoxication because he put a drink down in front of me before I had a chance to tell him that I didn’t want another one. I took a sip, just so I wouldn’t have to waste it, and Ben leaned closer to whisper something in my ear. It was dirty—and made my body tingle with anticipation. We were definitely going to have a lot of fun at The Grand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ben’s phone light up—and then my heart stopped beating in my chest for a second because a woman’s face popped up along with two words—The Wife.

  “Hold on…” I pushed Ben away and stared at his phone.

  “Don’t worry about that.” He flipped his phone over.

  “You’re married?” My eyes drifted to his left hand, where I saw the faintest outline on his finger—where a wedding band would have been.

  “Yes, but she doesn’t care.” He shook his head quickly and put his hand on my thigh again.

  “I care.” I pushed his hand away. “I think it’s time for me to say goodnight.”

  “What’s wrong?” He glared at me as I started to stand up. “I’m going to pay you—obviously.”

  “What!?” I blinked in confusion. “Pay me?”

  “Isn’t that what you’re here for?” His face twisted into a baffled expression. “A girl like you in a place like this?”

  “No!” I felt anger flooding through my veins. “I’m not a prostitute!”

  “Well then don’t dress like one.” He scoffed and reached for his drink.

  “Screw you!” I grabbed my martini and decided that he needed to wear it more than I needed to drink it. “Asshole!”

  “You fucking bitch!” He jumped up from his seat and raised his hand like he was going to hit me.

  A bouncer intervened before Ben could deliver a backhand that would have probably put me on the floor. I thought the bouncer was going to throw Ben out of the bar, but instead—I was asked to leave. Ben let a few obscenities fly as I was escorted towards the door. Whore—bitch—and the c-word that made my skin crawl. It was a good thing that the bouncer had decided to escort me out because I would have probably tried to claw Ben’s fucking eyes out if there wasn’t a guy big enough to carry me through the door with one hand between us. I didn’t understand how I was in the wrong, but it was clear that my evening was over.

  Once the adrenaline wore off, I began to feel rather humiliated by the whole experience—especially when some of the other patrons walked outside. They looked at me like I was some kind of freak. I stared them down and considered saying something, but I bit my tongue. A few minutes later, my Uber pulled up to the curb, and I was on my way back to my apartment. I felt like I needed a drink more than I did when I got to the bar in the first place, but there was no way that I was going to another bar. I would just have to settle for a glass of water and an early bedtime—maybe a few Tylenol if my head didn’t stop hurting before I got home.

  Especially if my new roommates make as much noise as they did last night.

  * * *

  When I was in high school, I used to think that I would always be close to the friends I made there. I heard people say that we would lose touch, move on, and live entirely different lives—but that seemed impossible until it actually happened. I watched them live their lives via social media, but it was rare for me to do more than hit like on a photo they posted. I made new friends during my college years, but I was already beginning to drift away from them too. They were becoming images on the screen, next to the people I left behind in my hometown.

  The pieces of the past simply fall away, and life moves on, whether you’re ready for it or not.

  It was hard to remember the teenage girl that got her heart broken by Trent Rigsby. I stayed true to my word. I moved on from the heartbreak, and I left Cabot Beach with a clear conscious after I shed my last tear. Keely attempted to reach out to me a few times over the years. First it was a voicemail, then an email to the account that I barely even checked, and one night she even sent me a friend request on Facebook. I never acknowledged her attempts. She was a part of my past that fell away, just like the guy that she decided was more important than our friendship.

  At least he’s never tried to reach out to me. My letter must have gotten the point across—I barely even remember what I wrote, but I remember the way I felt…

  After college, I thought about returning to Cabot Beach, but there really wasn’t anything left for me in the town I grew up in. I loved my parents, but I needed to find my own direction in the world. I had a marketing degree, and always dreamed of living in the city, so I started applying for jobs. Six months later, I coasted into The Big Apple on fumes with barely enough money in my bank account to find a place to live if I landed the job I was interviewing for. Luck must have been on my side for once because I was offered a very nice position at a company that seemed to be exactly what I was looking for.

  “Good morning.” The woman at the front desk looked up at me. “Welcome to Remington Global. Do you have an appointment?”

  “Oh, I’m actually here to start my first day of work.” I shifted my purse on my shoulder and smiled.

  “Ah, they didn’t tell you where to go—as usual.” She pointed over her shoulder. “The employees come in through the back entrance. Go to the security desk, and they’ll show you where you need to go.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded and walked in the direction she pointed.

  The next couple of hours were a blur. I had a lot of paperwork to sign, a benefits meeting to go over everything that my job was going to offer on top of my paycheck, and a quick orientation to watch some videos on company policies. I hoped I would be able to remember the ones that mattered. I wasn’t the only new hire. There were five of us—brand new associates that were joining the Remington Global marketing team.

  “Any idea what we’re going to be working on?” A guy named Eddie looked around the room once we were officially done with orientation.

  “No idea.” A woman named Melanie shrugged and started to pick at her fingernail. “They said something about produce I think—or was it a new product.”

  “Mel, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t produce.” The woman to Melanie’s left, who introduced herself as Isabella, rolled her eyes.

  “I doubt we will be working on it alone—whatever it is.” I leaned forward in my chair. “We’re probably joining a much larger team.”

  The four of us engaged in conversation and started throwing ideas around. The fifth member of our crew, a guy named Gabe, didn’t say much. He seemed to be sizing us up like we were competition instead of teammates. Remington Global was a pretty big marketing company, so we literally could have been working on anything—except produce. I was almost positive Mel got that wrong. I got the impression that she wasn’t taking the job very seriously. She seemed more interested in her phone than what we were discussing.

  “Okay, everyone.” Evelyn, who was in charge of orientation, walked back into the room. “I’m going to let you grab lunch, and after you get back, you’ll get to meet your boss.”

  “Awesome!” Eddie smiled. “Anyone know any good places to eat around here?”

  “I don’t.” I shook my head back and forth.

  “Oh, I know!” Mel tapped the screen on her phone. “There’s a sandwich shop nearby. It’s called Famous Sid’s. It’s supposed to be one of the best places to eat in New York!”

  “That settles it.” Isabella nodded. “Sandwiches it is…”

  The sandwich shop was pretty busy, but we were able to get lunch and make it back to Remington Global before our break was over. I was excited to meet our boss and find out what we would be working on. I didn’t care if they sent me to the basement to mop the floor—if they even had a basement. I was just happy to have a job. Sure, I wanted to put my degree to good use and possibly even turn the opportunity into a career, but that wasn’t my top priority. My top priority was earning a few paychecks so that I could pay rent. I was lucky enough to find two girls my age looking for a roommate, and we seemed
to get along, but they weren’t running a charity. I still had to pull my own weight and pay my fair share of everything.

  “Good morning—I mean afternoon.” A man with neatly trimmed wavy black hair and a huge smile on his face stepped into the room. “My name is Fulton, and guess what? I’m your new boss! Well, technically your boss reports to me, but it’s the same thing.”

  Wow, he’s quite energetic…

  “Hello, I’m Melanie Smith!” The woman to my left was the first to speak. “Everyone calls me Mel.”

  “I’ll go around the room and get introductions in a moment. I’m waiting for one more member of the team.” Fulton glanced at his watch. “He should be here shortly.”

  While we waited, Fulton explained that we wouldn’t be reporting directly to him. Remington Global had a pretty extensive hierarchy system, and it was unlikely that we would meet anyone on the top floor of the building other than Fulton—except in passing. We would be reporting to a new Emerging Leader at the company. I was surprised to find out that we weren’t going to be joining a larger team—we were basically an overflow team that would be taking assignments that the other teams couldn’t handle. Fulton was quick to explain that the work we would be doing was important, and if we did a good job, a quick promotion wasn’t out of the question. He was looking for superstars.

  Maybe Gabe had the right idea. Everyone in this room is on the same team, but they are technically my competition.

  “Ah, there he is.” Fulton turned towards the door. “This is who you will be reporting to. Everyone, I’d like you to meet Trenton Rigsby.”

  “What?” I felt all of the emotion drain out of my body.

  Trent? No! This has to be a bad dream…

  Chapter Seven

  Trent

  I was nervous as soon as I walked into the building. I had been working at Remington Global for several years, and my hard work finally paid off the day that I was selected to be an Emerging Leader. My responsibilities changed overnight. I felt like I had done a pretty good job with everything that my boss, Fulton, threw at me—but there was one final test, and it was the most important one of all.

 

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