by Nina Crespo
“Why didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t cause a scene.”
“The way he did, showing up at your party unannounced or backing out on your wedding? You should be angry.”
“Maybe I should…maybe I shouldn’t.”
He sat up. “Hold on. Are you saying you don’t have a right to be upset?”
“What’s the point? It doesn’t change the fact that he left because he wasn’t happy with me.” Anguish covered her face. “I should have realized something was wrong. I should have known.”
Brad had walked out on her, and she believed it was her fault? Hell no. He grabbed Alexa by the shoulders. “Stop judging yourself. Brad should have been man enough to tell you he wasn’t ready to get married. Walking out on you was a punk-ass way of handling it.” Anger coursed through Rafe. He reminded himself not to tighten his grip. “You have every damn reason to make a scene.”
“I wanted to kick and scream.” She visibly swallowed. “But what good would that serve?”
“It serves you. Starting now.” He got up and hauled Alexa to her feet. There was a time for prim and proper, and this wasn’t one of them. She needed to let herself get royally pissed at Brad. At the world, if she wanted.
She gave him a bewildered look as he pulled her to the heavy bag in the corner of the room. “What are you doing?”
Rafe took off his shirt and tossed it aside. “Have you ever boxed or taken martial arts?”
“I went to a self-defense class once with Nat and Cori. Does that count?”
“That’s a start.” He pointed to the bag. “Hit it, but not hard. I want to see how you throw a punch.”
She balled up her hand and tapped it.
“Not bad, but we need to work on your form.” He took a fighting stance. “Point your left shoulder forward. Position your legs a bit wider. Now raise your hands like this.”
Alexa copied him.
“Exactly. Now watch me.” He snapped out a front punch. “See how I’m hitting with the flat part of my fist and not my knuckles?”
“Like this?” Concentration swept away sadness from her face as she threw a punch.
“Close.” Rafe stood behind her and adjusted her hips. Hitting the bag would help ease her mind. He’d started boxing in Miami to relieve his aggression after losing Eden. Little by little, the volatility raging inside of him had eased.
He ran through other types of punches and combinations. Her movements became cleaner. She was ready for the next step.
Rafe retrieved black fighting wraps from a recessed corner shelf in his closet. He wound the stretchy, bandage-like cloth through her fingers and around the knuckles of her right hand. “Is it too tight?”
“I don’t think so. Is this really necessary?”
“I want you to make real contact this time and not scrape your skin.” He wrapped her other hand. When he finished, he faced her toward the bag. “Go for it.”
She tapped again, but the bag barely swayed.
“Hit it harder.”
Alexa doled out a few one-two punches.
She’d been through a lot today, but coddling her wouldn’t help. He grabbed her. “You think you can’t say what you really want? You can. Here. Now. Let your punches do the talking. Stop acting weak.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “I’m not weak.”
“Prove it.”
“Fine.” She wrenched herself from his hold. “You want me to hit the stupid thing. Here.” She smacked the heavy bag, and the chains above it jostled. “What about that?” She did it again. “Is that good enough? No? How about this? And this?” One punch followed another as she pummeled the bag. Her breathing grew labored. Her eyes grew bright, but no tears escaped. She kicked out and lost her footing.
He embraced her from behind and went down with her to the floor.
Rage and anguish came out with a scream so primal, it reverberated through her back and into his chest. She pounded the ground. “Why? Why did he fucking do it? Why?”
“I don’t know.” He held her close. “But I do know that whatever you’re going through, you’ll come out stronger.”
She heaved a deep breath. “What if I can’t?”
“You can. You will. You’ll figure out how.” He didn’t know her well, but he’d bet on her surviving, and in the process, kicking Brad’s ass.
“I’m tired of thinking about him…about her.” Alexa pressed kisses to his neck. “I don’t want to talk about it. I need you.” She moved back and dragged off her T-shirt.
Alexa still held unspent rage inside of her, and she needed to let it out, but her ardent kisses, and the way she tugged apart the rivet of his jeans, held a message that had less to do with sexual desire and more with experiencing something other than emotional pain. He understood. He’d been there.
Rafe laid Alexa on the floor. He slipped his hand into her bikinis, and she arched up. As he massaged her clit, he consumed her needy sighs and moans with his mouth. He’d give her what she wanted. Escape.
Chapter Seventeen
Alexa sat closer to the edge of the couch cushion. She adjusted the position of her laptop on Rafe’s coffee table. Her face became clearer in the window of the video conference app dominating the screen. Gold earrings, makeup, and a cream blouse gave her a professional appearance. The gray curtains in the background enhanced the image. No one would guess the rest of her outfit consisted of green geometric patterned yoga pants and fuzzy blue socks. It wasn’t fashionable, but she didn’t care. In the past, she’d never telecommuted, but after working from Rafe’s studio for the last few days, she could understand the appeal.
The three managers on her team, along with her second-in-command, Beth, waited for her to begin.
She smiled. “Good morning everyone. Today’s agenda is straightforward. For the first half hour to forty-five minutes, we’ll review the quarterly financial reports. Then we’ll take a ten-minute break and finish with updates.”
Just after noon, she logged out of the meeting. The managers had marching orders for monitoring their budgets. Beth would make sure all their contracts, including the one for the nutritional supplement company in Connecticut, were on track. Other than confirming Beth as her replacement and making sure the plans for the gala were complete, she was done. Free to focus on her upcoming job in Seattle instead of any exciting developments unfolding at NorthStar. Gloominess swept in. She didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself. She had to tidy up. Rafe was a neat freak. If she didn’t put things away, he would.
When he’d first started picking up after her, she’d reasoned that with the two of them living there, the space could easily become disorganized. The more she observed him, though, the more it seemed as if keeping things clean and tidy was a bit of a compulsion.
Rafe came through the front door, carrying a white sack. He glanced at her and the laptop and started tiptoeing inside.
“You’re good. I’m done.” She met him in the foyer.
He kissed her. “I brought food.”
“Thanks.” Alexa moved to a high-backed chair at the kitchen island and sat down. She took two sub sandwiches and two bags of potato chips from the sack. “Which do you want—turkey or roast beef?”
“Doesn’t matter to me. Pick the one you want.” Rafe took a pitcher from the fridge and poured a glass of water. “Want some?”
“Please.” Alexa unwrapped a sandwich and took a bite. Mayo with dill melded nicely with turkey, lettuce, and tomato.
He brought her a glass of water, and leaned a hip against the island. “Meeting go well?”
“Yes.”
“You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She focused on opening the bag of chips. The seal wouldn’t break. “Beth is ready to take over. Everything is on track. I’m out of the way and not a distraction for the staff.”
“You don’t honestly believe that distraction bit, do you?”
“If I was still in the office, the gossip mill would be having a field day, now t
hat Brad is back at NorthStar. His staff is just as loyal to him as mine is to me. We don’t need the employees taking sides.” She pulled harder on the chip bag. It wouldn’t budge. “I’m leaving in two weeks, anyway. The transition will be easier if I bow out now. Putting the company first is what my father expects me to do.”
“Is it?” Rafe took the chips from her. He pried the package open with ease. “You won’t know what your father is thinking if you don’t talk to him.”
Her cell remained at the office with Jen, who monitored her calls, passing on anything pertinent. Text messages were automatically linked to her tablet and laptop. She’d ignored the ones from her parents and Brad, but she did instruct her assistant to let them know she’d call them soon.
Alexa accepted the bag. “My father loves me. Of course, he won’t say it.”
“Stop fooling yourself.” Rafe wrapped an arm around her shoulders and embraced her from behind. “You’re the type who needs facts and definite resolution to situations.”
“How do you figure that?”
“You tracked me down after my performance and demanded a kiss.”
“I didn’t demand.”
He laughed. “Sounded like one at the time. What about you calling me on my bullshit when I invited you to pick up your earring? You insisted on knowing where we were headed.” He brushed his lips along her temple. “Trust me. You’ll feel better if you talk this through with your dad.”
“I guess.” She fed him a chip. “I just need a minute. I’ll phone him first thing next week.”
“I’m holding you to that but call your mom now. She left a message on my phone.”
“What? I told Jen not to give anyone your number.”
“She didn’t. When I came by your office the day of your going away party, the receptionist in the lobby kept staring at me, as if she recognized me. I suspect the word got around about who I was, and it made it back to your mom. She called the club. Our administrative person gave her my number.”
Her mother was pestering him? “I’m sorry about all of this. Me practically moving in. You having to deal with my problems. You didn’t sign up for this. I’m sure Nat or Cori will let me stay with them.”
“Do you want to be here with me?”
“Yes, but y—”
Rafe spun her chair around. “I’m fine with you being here.” He pressed his cell into her hand. “Talk to your mom and put her mind at ease. I’ll pick my phone up this evening when I get back. The staff knows I won’t be available for a few hours, but if someone calls, tell them to reach out to Shannon. I need to change.”
“Where are you going?”
He went to the closet. “To fulfill my end of a trade. The guy who repaired the tiles in the lobby needs manpower for a job this afternoon.”
On top of all that, he was still working tonight? Outside of being with her, club business—especially the plans for adding a kitchen to Escapade West—dominated his life. He needed a structured schedule and regular days off. She held back her comments and munched a few more chips.
Rafe came out wearing tan work boots, faded jeans, and a worn, white T-shirt with a red and blue Washington Wizards basketball logo on it. He tipped up her chin. “Call your mom. You’re her only child.”
“I’m a grown woman with a life of my own.”
“From her point of view, I doubt your life will ever completely be your own. Invite her over, if you want. She’s just worried about you and wants to know you’re okay. That’s what moms are supposed to do, isn’t it? Cut her some slack.”
His lips on hers cut off Alexa’s forthcoming objection. Salt from the chips they’d eaten flavored the kiss. “See you later.” Then he turned and left.
Alexa sank down on the couch with Rafe’s phone in her hand. She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about Rafe, or about how she felt now that Brad was back in town. Or discuss how her mother was undoubtedly still struggling with her move to Seattle.
Alexa set the phone down on the coffee table and grabbed her laptop. NorthStar’s publicist had sent the rough draft of the video about her father for the gala. She pressed play, and the short clip started with the early days, when NorthStar had been a small operation. Back then, her father had done everything from driving a big rig to supervising the loading of freight.
As the video progressed, it showed him in a suit and tie, shaking hands with clients, and he and her mother cutting the ribbons, opening NorthStar’s operation facilities throughout the northeast. It ended with an older picture of him sitting at his desk talking on the phone, perfectly content to have her, his mini-coworker, on his lap as she lined up pencils on the calendar blotter in front of her.
A lump formed in her throat. She wasn’t abandoning her family legacy. Leaving NorthStar for more responsibility and a place out of her comfort zone was the right move, wasn’t it? It was also best for her father and NorthStar for her to go. She wasn’t running from her past or avoiding anything. Doubt picked at her reasoning. She shifted her attention to the reports pertaining to the new contract Beth had emailed for her to look over.
Shadows fell as the day turned into early evening. She turned on the overhead lights and kept making notes. Hours later, pounding on the door startled her.
“Rafe. Alexa.” Shannon’s voice filtered in. “Are you in there?”
Alexa answered the door. “He’s not here. I’m afraid I don’t know when he’s coming back.”
“I’m not looking for him. I’m here for you.” Grimness shadowed Shannon’s expression. “Your father’s been trying to reach you. Your mother was taken to the hospital.”
Chapter Eighteen
After what seemed like the slowest drive ever, Alexa barged into her parents’ home in Reston. Her heart slammed in her chest. When she’d reached her dad, he’d said her mother had gotten dizzy during a meeting at the tennis club and had been taken to the emergency room. The doctors had wanted to keep her overnight, but she’d insisted on going home.
Just as Alexa started to rush across the large wood-floored entryway to the stairs, her father descended from the second floor. His face was slightly haggard. He’d ditched his suit jacket and loosened his tie.
Alexa met him at the bottom step. “How is she? What happened?”
“She’ll be okay. Dr. Marston, our personal physician, just left. Your mom got dizzy and felt short of breath.”
“Do they know what caused it? Should she even be home?”
The sting from the edges of her keys digging into her palm alerted Alexa to just how tightly she clutched them. She shoved them into the front pocket of her jeans. “Why did they let her out?”
“The hospital ran a battery of tests. Nothing showed up to raise concern.”
“But wh—?”
Her father cut her off with a raised hand. “Dr. Marston feels your mother has just been overdoing it. You know how she gets when she’s busy. Between the committees she’s recently joined at church and meetings at the tennis club, she hasn’t been eating or sleeping, just worrying about everything and everyone.”
Including her—she should have called her mother sooner. Rafe’s cell phone weighed in the back pocket of Alexa’s jeans while guilt and concern burrowed in her chest. What if something more serious had happened, and her mother wasn’t all right? “When…when can I see her?”
“Now’s a good time.” Her father pulled her into a tight hug. “Don’t worry. If it was serious, your mother wouldn’t be home.”
“I want to help. What can I do?” She held him tighter.
He gave her a squeeze. “Just seeing you will help. Go on up. I need to make some calls and let her friends know she’s okay.”
Her father kissed her on the cheek before he walked through the entryway leading to the living room.
As Alexa started to climb the stairs, Rafe’s phone chimed. Shit. In the rush from his apartment, she’d grabbed his phone by accident, forgetting it wasn’t hers. She needed to get it back to him. Alexa tapped ignore on the
phone’s screen. But first, she needed to see her mom.
She jogged up the landing. The doors to the two guest rooms halfway down the hall on the right were open. Her old bedroom was down the left. Once she’d moved out after graduating from college, her mother had turned it into an office slash sitting room for herself. Alexa walked down the hall in front of her and into the master bedroom.
The round crystal ceiling light was slightly dimmed.
Her mom sat with pillows propped up behind her against the thick, wide wood headboard of the king-sized bed. Her mauve satin nightgown added a splash of color to the snow-white comforter and sheets. With her skin scrubbed clean of makeup and her hair in a ponytail, she looked like a youthful forty-year-old instead of a woman in her mid-fifties.
“Hey, Mom.” Alexa went to the bed and straight into her mother’s open arms. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now.” Her mom gave her a squeeze and let her go. “I don’t know why everyone’s so excited.”
“You almost passed out.” Alexa sat on the bed.
“No. I got a little lightheaded, that’s all.”
“You have to start getting more sleep, stop worrying about everything, and not miss meals.”
“Yeah, so Dr. Marston and the doctors at the hospital said.” Her mother raised and lowered her hands in a dismissive gesture. “I’m fine. I wish everyone would stop lecturing me.”
“If the roles were reversed, you’d lecture me for days on this.”
“Would you listen?”
“If I ended up in the emergency room, yes, I would.” Rafe’s phone buzzed in a text. Alexa, it’s Rafe.
She rapidly typed an answer. Sorry—bringing your phone back soon.
Not worried about the phone. How’s your mom?
TTYL. What happened was too much to put into a text. She’d call later.
Her mother glanced at the cell. “Do you need to call that person back?”
“No. It can wait.”
Her mom raised her brow. “It can wait? Or he can wait?”
