Make it Reighn (A Threads Inc. Saga Book 1)

by R. J. Castille

  In the distance, soft music drifted across the space toward us and the lighting inside the restaurant was low. Since the windows were so large, letting in as much natural light as possible, there wasn’t much need for it. Nodding at him curtly as I lowered myself into the chair he offered me, I smoothed my skirt down and looked out the window again. A small flock of seagulls flew just above the water, skimming the surface periodically in search of a small tidbit before raising back up to join their group. I looked at Reighn when he sat down across from me, his attentions trained on me rather than the spectacular view of the restaurant.

  “This is quite a place, Reighn. I wonder if the food is as good as the view,” we both laughed as he raised his hand up toward the ceiling and snapped his fingers loudly. In response, a well-dressed waiter approached us without haste. He handed me a menu and followed suit with Reighn, who proceeded to open it and scan the various dishes that were available. I almost choked when I too opened my menu and saw the prices of each dish. Everything on the menu was A La Carte and cost a pretty penny. Even the simple side salad was over twenty dollars. That place was definitely too rich for my blood, but could see how someone with money, such as Mr. Abrams, it was a non-issue. I doubted the food could be that much better than anywhere else. Patrons were paying for the ambiance, the atmosphere and the location, not necessarily some killer food.

  “Can I start you off with something to drink this afternoon?” I had nearly forgotten the waiter. He stood expectantly, pad in his hand with a pen poised above the surface and ready to write down anything we requested. “May I suggest our house white wine? It is from the vineyards north of Santa Barbara and has a refreshing, crisp palate.” I saw Reighn nodding out of the corner of my eye as I briefly let my eyes travel the beverage options on the last page of the menu.

  “I have to go back to work but thank you. I will have your tropical iced tea, please,” Reighn’s shoulders dropped slightly in disappointment as the waiter nodded at me before looking in his direction.

  “Come on, one little glass of wine isn’t going to kill you. You won’t be stumbling drunk from a tiny taste,” I glanced in Reighn’s direction, a smile graced his lips as he attempted to convince me that I could consume one glass and still be perfectly capable of performing my duties once I returned to the office.

  “Fine, I will have one glass of the house wine but also would like that tropical iced tea,” Reighn looked satisfied and indicated he would like the same before turning his attention back to the menu. There were so many choices, it wasn’t even funny. I had no idea what to order since everything on the menu sounded so delicious. Salmon perhaps, or white fish with creamy mushroom sauce? I had no clue and time was ticking away. It would soon be time for me to go back to work, although something told me I was in for more than a standard hour lunch break.

  I perused the menu for quite some time before settling on a cobb salad with extra blue cheese, dressing on the side. Reighn ordered the salmon with mixed vegetables and rice and a side salad with extra onion. The waiter disappeared from sight quickly, ducking behind a wall on the far side of the room. When he appeared again, he held a small, round tray with our drinks poised on top, along with a basket of fresh-baked bread. He set our drinks down carefully in front of us and centered the bread in between Reighn and I before taking his leave again.

  Once he was gone, Reighn opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the shrill ringing of his cell phone. He rolled his eyes and sighed out loud as he pulled it out of his front pocket and looked at the screen. Whoever was calling elicited another eye roll before he pressed the screen to answer, holding his finger up in a silent gesture asking me to give him a moment. He held the phone up to his ear and greeted his caller with a disdainful tone to his voice. The nice, soft Reighn who was doing his best to win me over had disappeared that quickly and was replaced by an alternate personality. As he listened to what the caller was saying, occasionally grunting or commenting back, he became more and more agitated.

  “Haven’t I given you enough already?” he practically was shouting into the phone, a one-sided conversation that I probably should not be witnessing. For all I knew, it was some baby mama somewhere demanding more and more from him, causing him to forget that I was sitting right in front of him. “The condo, the car, your monthly allowance. It’s never enough! Maybe you should get out there and take of yourself a little, maybe…” his eyes met mine for a brief second, slamming him back down to reality. He stood abruptly and turned his back on me, stalking off to the other side of the room where he could finish his conversation with a little more privacy.

  I sat alone in the room, staring out the window at the ocean and sipping my wine, probably a little too quickly as I started to feel a little fuzzy. As I waited for Reighn to return, his caller still holding him hostage, the waiter returned with a large tray. He set each plate down in front of who had ordered it and asked if I needed anything else. I shook my head, thanking him again and he disappeared again. Looking back over at Reighn, I watched as he finally pulled the cell phone from his ear and pressed the screen, disconnecting the call. He stomped back in my direction and sat down across from me, huffing loudly as he did so. I waited for him to speak but instead, he picked up his fork and knife and started to dig in.

  “Well?” Reighn looked up at me, confusion creasing his brow. When he realized what I was asking, his features softened, and he looked back down at his meal, poking the vegetables around the plate with his fork.

  “Oh, that? Sorry about that. That was my mother,” he squirmed a little in his seat, his voice wavering slightly as he continued, “she just has the worst timing calling me in the middle of our first date. Please, let’s eat and maybe I can fill you in later. It’s is a long fucking story,” he raised his eyebrows inquisitively, waiting for me to agree with him. I nodded slowly and finally turned my attention to my lunch. Inside my head, I doubted the whole thing. People don’t usually talk to their mother like that, do they? My inner monologue was busy planting the seeds of doubt as I put a forkful of salad into my mouth.

  We finished our meal, engaging in idle chit-chat until we had finished eating and it was time to head back to the office. I was pushing my timeline, we had a mere fifteen minutes to get back to Downtown Los Angeles, and there was no way in hell I believed the freeway would behave enough for us to make it. Reighn assured me it was a non-issue. During his meeting with Regina Schultz the other day, he had apparently told her that he was trying to take me out for lunch and if I ever agreed, wanted to take me to The Landing. She allegedly agreed and, he told me, was quite pleased with the notion. I had my doubts but relaxed a little bit knowing that Reighn Abrams did have some influence at the top level. As we wove our way back to the office, I looked at him and tilted my head slightly to the side.

  “Well?” I said it again. It was comical the way that he jumped a little every time I did that, like I was physically jolting his memory that he had something to tell me. He looked up at me, his eyes far away as he relented to my request and filled me in on the details I wanted to hear.

  “My mother is nothing but a big, fat freeloader,” he started off slowly, picking his way carefully through the conversation, “ever since I became famous and had “plenty of money to go around,” she just keeps upping the ante. I bought her a beautiful condo in Redondo Beach, a brand-new Mercedes and even give her a monthly allowance. You would think that five-thousand dollars a month would be enough for a single woman with no bills to speak of but no! She called me to ask me for more! Can you believe that?” Reighn became increasingly agitated as he spoke. He clearly harbored resentment for his mother deep inside him, a poisonous emotion that now seeped from his every pore.

  “I can say that you are quite noble to continue to support her despite all that, Reighn,” I was impressed again. I had no idea that Mr. Reighn Abrams would ever be kind enough to give that much to someone else. Of course, it was his mother and taking care of your parents was somethin
g that was expected to some degree, but to go that extra mile and give her everything she needed to keep living. That was definitely moving.

  “I guess,” he still appeared to be quite upset but continued to let me have a glimpse of the real Reighn Abrams. He didn’t seem to realize that he was exposing his weaknesses to me, but it made him more real, human even. At least in my eyes anyways.

  Chapter 12

  Reighn

  I had planned our first date to the T and she ruined it. My mother calling me in the middle of what I was hoping would be the perfect lunch date definitely threw off my groove. The icing on the cake was when she asked me to give her an additional two thousand for the month to cover some “unexpected expenses.” What fucking expenses? I pay for everything and she still wanted more. Considering where I came from, she barely made enough for us to survive, let alone shower me with everything I could ever want, my mother had a lot of nerve.

  Every time I tried to deny her, she would hold my father’s death over my head, convincing me that it was somehow my fault. I should had made him let me drive. Somehow, I should have wrestled him to the ground and took the keys from him so that he could not get behind the wheel of his pick-up truck. For years she blamed me, and I would never live that down, no matter how much I gave her. Never mind the fact that I had nearly lost my life as well. Had it not been for the fact that I was smart enough to put on my seatbelt, I would have probably joined my father at the pearly gates and she would have been left with no one.

  Yes, she worked her ass off to take care of me, two, sometimes three jobs at a time, but that only caused me to have a little respect for her. After my dad was gone, I watched as a stream of random men came in and out of our lives, and in and out of her bed before disappearing from my life forever. On some occasions, I felt that the guy was the one, someone I could look up to and would perhaps fill that fatherly role that I had been missing. I was disappointed every single time, as was my mother. Her bed had a revolving door that never resulted in anything but heartache and pain for her, yet she continued to offer it up to the next guy that talked a little sweet to her and made her feel good about herself. Typical guy, using a woman’s situation in which they were vulnerable and desperate to get what they wanted out of them. I guess I really did learn from the best in that sense.

  When I hit the big time, she only got worse. Demanding more and more of me, using the memory of my father as leverage. It offended me that she did that, since I was the one left fatherless and without male guidance, but she did it anyway and once I had money, it was on and cracking. She wasn’t one of those mothers who expressed how proud they were of you or did anything to speak of to boost my self esteem as I grew up. Nope, she was that parent, who did nothing but cut you down and use your emotions toward them as a parent and someone who is supposed to be honored, to get what they want. My mother was a master manipulator and I unfortunately for most of the women in my life, had learned that skill as well.

  As we drove along the coast toward the freeway that would channel us back to Threads, Inc., Jessica sat next me silently listening to what I had to say. She was hanging on every word like it would magically reveal something to her about me. I suppose it did and I should have shut my mouth long before I got too far into the story, but there was something about her that made it easy to talk to her. Her spirit, I suppose, or perhaps it was the sparkling energy I felt whenever she was near me. I babbled on, revealing everything about my sorted past and she drank it all in, fascinated for some reason by my painful memories. Inside my mind, I knew she would appreciate knowing more about that, since our past experience mold and shape us into who we are and who we will become, and again, the way she looked at me as I spoke, empathy and sadness mixed with curiosity, gave me a sense of security, that I could trust her. I just kept on talking.

  By the time we reached Downtown, Jessica Goldstein knew practically everything there was to know. My father’s death, how my mother completely lost control of her life, and how I ended up one of the most famous models of the current fashion industry. She thought it was funny how Salley Chase found me working at the mall and laughed a little when I told her that part. Even her laugh was soothing, music to my ears. I felt that I had finally chipped through the barrier she had erected since the time we met and that made me feel so much better.

  I escorted her back up to her office, ignoring Sandra’s stare as we walked in and came to rest in front of Jessica’s desk. Sandra had played an instrumental role in affording me the opportunity to even go on the date with Jessica in the first place, so I suppose I owed her one. I made a mental note to hook her up with something fabulous later to express my appreciation. Other than the disruptive phone call from my mother, the date had gone extremely well, at least I thought so.

  Jessica gave me a brief hug, her arm wrapped timidly around the back of my neck before she quickly withdrew and walked around the front of her desk. I would definitely take that, it was a start. I turned to take my leave, nodding at Sandra as I passed in front of her desk, and made my way toward the exit. Before I left, I looked back over my shoulder to discover that Jessica was staring back at me, a genuine smile spread her lips wide. That was the most wonderful sight I had seen in quite some time as I floated out the door.

  The second I made it back to my limousine that patiently waited for me outside the building, I texted her. I wanted to lock in our second date sooner rather than later. Sandra had informed me that Jessica was a big fan of theatre which gave me a fantastic idea. If I could get her to join me in the evening, I would take Jessica to the see the Lion King. A little birdie told me it was one of her favorites and it happened to be playing at the Pantages for the next several months. Texting her the details, I hit the send button and held my breath, waiting for her to reply. For several minutes, she did not, and I began to feel the sting of disappointment before my phone lit up and I heard the cheerful ding of an incoming message. Smiling, I pressed the screen and opened her reply. The good news was, she was willing to go with me again. The bad news was, she was busy until the following weekend. Two weeks sounded like an eternity but would have to do.

  I typed my reply, confirming that I would make arrangements for next Saturday night, and sent her my message. I could not wipe the shit-eating grin off of my face. Jessica Goldstein was playing right into my hands. For some reason I was not that driven to get into her pants anymore, although that had been my initial motivation, I wanted to get to know her and that was a strange feeling. Never in my life, well, at least since early in High School, had I wanted to actually know a woman. I used them for what I felt they were for, a quick fuck and then it was goodbye. The tide was changing, and I could feel it deep inside me, like a warm energy that grew there and was fed by my need to have her in my life. That also was a first for me and for some reason, was a welcome feeling.

  Ordering the driver to take me by my mother’s condo, I leaned far back in my chair, satisfied that I had finally reached a level of success with Jessica Goldstein I had not thought possible. I smiled, despite knowing that I was headed to the dragon’s lair otherwise known as my mother’s place. Nothing in the world could take me down of the high I was feeling, not even Rita Abrams. Humming to myself, I stared out the window as we passed miles of houses, shops and office buildings before they started peter off and we neared the coast. Redondo Beach was a beautiful place and had a number of activities for older folks to enjoy so I had determined it was the perfect place to put my mother. Somehow, I thought the bright sunshine and close proximity to the ocean would be enough to snap her out of her old ways, would make her happy once again, but I had been wrong after all. It seemed my mother was destined for misery no matter what I did.

  When the limo pulled up in front of her two-story condo, I was already regretting my decision. I did not visit my mother intentionally, only when things were out of control and it was one of those days. Despite the fact that I was still floating on cloud nine from my first successful date wit
h Jessica, I was feeling the weight of the burden that is my mother drag me back down below. I sighed out loud as I looked at the place, following the sidewalk to the door with my eyes. Bright tufts of flowers lined the sidewalk on either side just outside the path and small patches of bright, green grass followed. There wasn’t much to the yard really, it was apparent that it was there for the ambiance and nothing more, keeping costs of the community down to a minimum yet still presenting a pleasing façade. Reluctantly, I pulled the door handle and got slowly out of the car.

  The doorbell chimed from somewhere inside, echoing through the hallways of my mother’s condo. When Rita Abrams answered the door, she wore a scowl like I had never seen before. If looks could kill. My mind lamented silently as I looked on, waiting for her to invite me inside. After some time of her glaring at me on her doorstep, she stepped aside and allowed me to enter her home.

  It was cool inside, the air conditioner which cost extra several hundred dollars a month was cranked on, blowing cold air into the confined space of the living quarters. I shuddered as a shiver ran down my spine. Following close behind me, I heard my mother’s footsteps on the dark, hard-wood flooring. She shuffled along at my heels until the hallway opened up into the living room and I came to a stop. On our way past the thermostat, I made a mental note that she had the temperature set at sixty-eight degrees. Good god, no wonder it was so cold inside. That was lower than healthcare industry standards for a room temperature, which was usually seventy-two.

  When I came to a stop abruptly, my mother had not realized it and ran right into my back. She uttered sounds of disgust as she straightened herself back up and I turned slowly to meet her gaze. Her eyes burned with unrequited anger, as they always seemed to do. I looked on, not saying a word until she was visibly calmer, and I felt I was safe to say something without getting my head bitten off.