“Really? Tell me one time that you haven’t.” I hadn’t gone after her mystery partner in crime, but I wasn’t writing that off as a battle lost yet. When I couldn’t come up with any other response, she pulled away. “One time, Edward.”
This was ridiculous. Of course I didn’t always win. Because I couldn’t think of any instance that I hadn’t didn’t mean that it had never happened. It simply meant I wasn’t holding a grudge about it.
I circled around behind my desk and looked at her, still staring at me waiting for an answer. “You’re wearing the wrong dress,” I said, suddenly. “And I haven’t even hinted at a punishment.”
“That’s not going to cut it. I need to be given wins about things that matter.”
“You’re working now.” I unbuttoned my jacket and sat down, relieved that I’d been able to come up with something meaningful.
Except, once again she shook her head. “Not because I asked to. You decided I’d work. You oversee my clientele and how much time I put into it.”
“I haven’t gone after your father.”
“You’re going after his brother. I’m not sure that isn’t the same thing.”
I ran my fingers over my forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Fine. You want to win sometimes. I hear you. I’ll make an effort in the future to be more conscientious of not dominating every aspect of our lives.”
“Nope. That’s not enough. I want some things now. I deserve some things now, especially after the bullshit you pulled, going behind my back like this with John.”
“I should have known you already had something in mind. Go ahead. Let me hear it.”
I gestured for her to take a seat, but instead of sitting in the chair in front of me, she came around to my side and perched on the corner of my desk.
I swiveled my chair to better face her. I wasn’t sure I liked her there, sitting over me like that. It felt like the balance of power had shifted, and that made me uneasy.
“First,” she began, and I definitely didn’t like that there was a “first,” suggesting that a list was about to follow. “I want you to pull the sale of the stables and offer them back to John. He was behind on his mortgage, I know. Go back and work out something he can manage.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can’t? Or you won’t?”
I considered. “To be honest, a bit of both.”
“I understand that you have some deep need to do these things you do, Edward, that seeking vengeance fulfills something in you that nothing else can. Well, you got your vengeance in this situation. Vengeance that I consider to be completely out of line, but it’s done. Now you can move on. Which means you shouldn’t have any lingering emotional attachment to getting the stables back to John.”
It wasn’t that simple. As though I could trick my brain into not realizing that a settled matter was being unsettled.
But there was merit to her argument. I’d played it out. I should feel satisfied. It should be enough to be able to move past it.
If it wasn’t enough, what would be? Would I still be unfulfilled after Ron?
I ignored that thought and concentrated on the practicalities. “Look, business doesn’t work like that. I bought out the Holcombs’ existing bank note, but I never planned to continue to carry it. That hasn’t been budgeted for.”
“Then I’ll pay you what he’s behind. I have money.”
“It’s a good chunk of money.”
“Then I’ll sell some of my Werner shares. They are in my name now.”
My jaw tightened. “You definitely won’t do that.”
“You’ll get John back his stables, or I will do that.” She folded her arms across her chest with stubborn determination.
It ignited something primal in me. Something that made me want to roar and take her down. Make her surrender. Make her yield.
She was right—I did always have to win.
Old tactics aren’t going to work.
She had me. Much as it hurt to do so, I had to give her this. Zugzwang was the term for it in chess, when a player was forced to make a move that put him at a disadvantage. I was extremely good at putting others in that position. I didn’t like it so much being on the other side.
I leaned back in my chair and lifted my ankle to rest on my opposite knee. “Look at you, getting better at chess all the time. I’ll speak to my loan officer and work out something by the end of the week.”
“Thank you.”
The satisfied gleam in her eyes made my chest warm. Losing didn’t have to be so bad, I supposed. “Feel better?”
“Yes, but that wasn’t really a victory. That was righting a wrong. Even though everything will work out for John in the end, I’m sure you caused him a lot of stress in the meantime. Not to mention public scandal.”
So that was how she’d caught on. Her mother must have included his woes in her latest round of gossip.
“It still feels like a loss to me.”
She shrugged and stood. “That’s the recipe for a perfect compromise. Neither party walks away feeling satisfied.”
“If that’s what marriage is supposed to be, I’m glad I’ve been doing it wrong.”
“I’m sure you are. Not so fun when you have to be a team player, is it?” Finally, she circled around and sat in the chair in front of me.
“What else? I know you have something more.” I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be as easy of a loss to take.
“I do.” She straightened her back, as if gathering courage. “I want a baby.”
“Absolutely not.” There were other ways she could win. I’d give her the moon. I’d give her a million different things. This would not be one of them.
She didn’t cower, though, as she usually did when the subject was broached, and I cut it off. “No, you don’t get to decide, and that’s it. This isn’t a dictatorship. You have set the foundations for every part of this relationship, and, in the end, I have bent to your will, each and every time, whether I wanted to or not. Now I’m putting my foot down. I’m telling you what I need, and what I need is a baby.”
It was strange how her request pulled at something in me, deep and buried. Some lizard part of my brain that was programmed to spread his seed, ignited. Wanted to stand on the desk and pound my chest and ravage her again with the intent to impregnate her right that minute.
Fortunately, I was a civilized man, and the more civilized parts of my brain could overrule the caveman with saner rationale. I’d already had my children. I’d been a mediocre father at best. There was no wisdom in putting another child through that, and frankly, I had no desire to battle with the constant pressure associated with parenting.
The answer had to be no.
“I don’t need a baby, Celia. In fact, I very much need to not have a baby. I understand your desire to have a win, but it can’t be at the cost of my needs.”
Her lips turned downward. “That’s funny. You don’t seem to consider my needs when you make any of your decisions.”
I put my leg down and leaned forward. “That’s practically all I consider anymore. All the time. What’s best for you in every situation. You still may not see it, but going after John Holcomb was for you.”
I’d never been like this with Marion. Everything was always about me. I was the self-centered star of the universe. With Celia, even my need to ruin the man who had destroyed my father was outweighed by the need to destroy the man who had destroyed her. She might not have expected me to change when she married me, but I had, maybe not for the better, but for her.
And she didn’t see it. “I know you think it was for me, that you’ve convinced yourself it was, but when you outright ignore my wishes, you are not actually acting in my best interest. I am a fully capable human being. I may like being pampered and cared for, and I may kind of love it when you make decisions for me, but I am not incompetent. When I feel strongly enough to make a stand, that should matter.”
She was passionate, but the a
nger from earlier had dissipated. It made it easier to listen, and, because I knew she was really making an effort, I tried harder to hear her.
“I am well aware of your capabilities,” I said, recognizing she needed me to acknowledge her competence. “You are very intelligent and quick-witted and resourceful, as well as independent. I don’t desire to take care of you because I don’t think you can’t take care of yourself. It’s because I long to take that burden from you.”
“And I love that about you.”
“Capable as you are, however, sometimes your scope of vision is limited.”
“And, sometimes, so is yours!” she exclaimed, with evident frustration. “You know what a loss I felt when I had my miscarriage. You know how it was devastating enough to send me to dark places, how it made me do bad things. It seems fairly obvious that having a baby would do the exact opposite. It would bring me to good places and good things. You say that you love me and that you want to care and provide for me above all else. If giving me this one thing that I truly want isn’t part of that, then it’s kind of hard to believe that you really feel the way you say you do.”
“You know how I feel.” My tone was as raw as my insides. “You know.”
“And now you know how I feel.”
We sat in silence for several heavy seconds, our gazes locked. I wasn’t a man who gave in. I wasn’t a man who resigned. I wasn’t a man who didn’t win.
And that’s who she claimed she needed me to be now. Someone who I wasn’t.
I took in a deep breath and let it out. “Is this going to be a deal-breaker if I refuse?”
I could hear my heart thumping in my chest, could feel the milliseconds crawl in her pause as if they were hours.
“It might be,” she said after what felt like an eternity.
My chest tightened, like it were being squeezed together with a vice-grip. I’d never understood the saying about losing a battle to win the war in quite the way I did at this moment. Fucking zugzwang.
“Come here.” I opened my arms, needing them to no longer be empty. Needing them filled with her.
She sank into my lap and clutched onto me as though she felt the same.
I buried my head in her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo before kissing her temple. “I don’t want to lose you, bird.”
“Then don’t.”
Anxiety about the prospect of her leaving morphed into concern about the thing she needed in order to stay. “I can’t be the father I was before. I was distracted and unavailable.”
“You won’t be.”
Fuck, was I really considering this? Was I really agreeing?
Concern rose to borderline panic. My mind fought to order it, to give the crazy idea structure.
I pulled back so I could see her. “I need to make sure that I’m able to focus this time. I need to wrap up these...outstanding debts, so to say. Ron, specifically. It may be another year or so. Can you wait that long?”
She searched my face, bringing her hand to cup my cheek. “Are you saying yes, then?”
It was hard to get a deep breath, but I tried. “If you can wait.”
“I want you to be able to focus on us, too, and I know how important finishing up these plans are to you. You’ve been working toward this for a long time, and I wouldn’t dream of interfering with that. So, yes. I can wait. Not forever, but a year or so isn’t that bad. Gives us more time to be ready.”
“All right.” It still felt hard to breathe. “All right,” I said again. For her. I could do this for her.
I kissed her, sealing the deal.
But as sweet as her lips were, my mind couldn’t stop spinning. A hundred possible addendums fought for my attention. Only one made its way through the fog.
“One more thing,” I said, breaking away suddenly. This was important. “Besides Ron, I need to go after A.”
Her body went stiff as she pulled back. “No. I said no, Edward, and I meant it. I still mean it.”
“He deserves to pay retribution even more than John Holcomb. You can’t let that go.”
“Actually, I can.”
“I can’t,” I said, more firmly. “You said you understood my need to do this.”
“I said I understand that you have the need, not that I understand the need itself. And I will support you as best as I can with it, but this man has nothing to do with you. He has nothing to do with us. And there has to be a limit somewhere, Edward. I will support you, but I won’t enable you, and going after A is going too far.”
How long had I yearned for someone to give me these boundaries? It had seemed like forever since Roman had died. Since someone cared enough, was strong enough to insist that I needed to stop.
But I was like a heroin addict who needed one last fix before going to rehab. “He would be the limit. That would be the end. Ron, the men associated with him, and A.” She moved as though she wanted out of my arms, but I only tightened my grip. “And then you get your baby, bird.”
Her expression remained steadfast. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Charlotte’s voice came through the intercom.
“Mr. Fasbender, sorry to interrupt you, but you have yet another unannounced visitor.”
She enunciated the “unannounced visitor,” an obvious jab at Celia’s surprise visit.
As disruptive as her arrival had been, I didn’t appreciate Charlotte having an opinion about when Celia showed up. “Tell whoever it is to make an appointment, like everyone who isn’t my wife is supposed to do.”
“That’s just it, sir,” she said, and already dread was filling in my stomach. “She isn’t everyone else. It’s Marion.”
Fifteen
Celia
My mouth went dry, and even though I was still sitting securely in Edward’s arms, the room started to sway. I’d expected to meet Marion the next day, at Genny’s graduation. I hadn’t expected to come face to face with her here, in Edward’s office, without the formalities of the event to hide behind.
And, especially, after the conversation we’d just had and the tense way it had ended, I wasn’t ready for this.
I wasn’t ready for this at all.
Edward looked just as taken aback, but his surprise was only momentary. Then his features smoothed, and his expression turned stoic. “Give us a few minutes,” he told Charlotte, before clicking off the intercom.
He stood, taking me with him, then set me aside as though I were something inanimate that had been on his lap rather than his wife. He turned to glance in the mirror behind his desk, and adjusted his dress shirt and tie before running his hand over his mouth and beard, removing the bit of gloss I’d left on his lips.
“Edward…” There were so many things I wanted to say, wanted to ask. What is she doing here? Were you expecting her? Why are you primping for your ex-wife?
The most pressing issue at the moment, however, was my own appearance. We’d fucked and we’d fought, and I was doubtful I looked anything what I’d like to look like when meeting the woman who my husband might very well still be in love with.
“I can’t…” I searched the room, as if somehow a secret escape door would pop up.
His forehead pinched, and he stared at me, stared through me, as though he’d forgotten I was there. Then he shook his head, and his eyes cleared. “You can clean up in my en-suite.”
It was what I needed, but it wasn’t reassuring. Reassuring would have been, You look perfect, just the way you are. Reassuring would have been, I’ll get rid of her. Reassuring would have been, You’re the one I want, only you.
Instead, he’d sent me on my way, then instantly turned his attention from me to his phone. He picked up the receiver and dialed three numbers, obviously an inter-office call. “I need you to do something,” he said to whoever was on the other line. “Come to my office and interrupt me in ten minutes. Remind me that someone’s waiting for me in the conference room.”
He didn’t want to spend time with her any more than I did.
&
nbsp; That, at least, made me feel better enough to grab my purse and make my way across to the bathroom that was tucked into a nook at the opposite end of the office. Once inside, I shut the door and pressed my back to it, trying to catch my breath.
This wasn’t a big deal, I told myself.
They’d been divorced for ten years. Even if Edward had still had feelings for her when she’d left, he had to have gotten over her by now. There was no way he could have been harboring a broken heart all that time.
Right?
Whatever the answer, it didn’t change the situation. Forcing myself to focus, I went to the sink and fixed my face and hair as best I could in the mirror there. I applied my lipstick then threw it in my bag, my eyes pausing on the stack of washcloths on the counter. I’d just been fucked and should probably clean between my legs.
But I was jealous and petty and the notion that Marion might be able to smell sex on me was pretty damn satisfying. So I skipped that bit of freshening, took a deep breath, then put on my best fake smile.
Showtime.
I opened the door and immediately froze when I heard voices. I’d expected Edward to wait for me to invite Marion in, for some reason, but he hadn’t.
“...thought we might do best to see each other privately before tomorrow,” Marion said, her slight French accent giving her away.
“I’m not sure why you thought that was necessary.”
“We’ve seen each other so few times since the divorce.” Her voice was tentative and demure. “And after the last time…”
“That was a mistake,” Edward said sharply, and my stomach dropped.
What had happened? What was a mistake?
“Which is exactly why I thought we should talk. I’m sorry if I assumed incorrectly, sir.”
I had to brace my hand against the wall to steady myself. I’d known she was submissive, that she’d been submissive to Edward, but he’d told me so little about their relationship and I hadn’t been able to picture what it must have been like.
Now, I could envision more than I wanted to. Enough to make me sick with envy. I hadn’t even officially met her yet, and I already knew she was so much better for him than I ever could be.
Revenge Page 17
