Sordid: A Novel

by Ava Harrison

  “Up,” he orders before picking me up, walking us across the room and then throwing me on the bed. I quickly strip off my clothes as he puts on a condom and then crawls up my body, bracing himself on top of me. He settles in the crook of my hips. Until I feel him tease at my entrance. Slowly, painfully slow, he slides in, joining us, burrowing himself deep inside me. I rock under him as he thrusts inside me.

  So deep, my breath hitches in my chest.

  He strokes my jaw, lifting my chin so our gazes can meet. His greens eyes bore into me, saying unspoken words I can only dream to hear one day. They tell me how much he cares. How much I mean to him. How much he wants me.

  He shows me with each inch of his body, with each thrust of his hips. First slow, then deep. Soon he picks up his pace.

  A deep, primal cry starts to form in my mouth, but he silences me with his kiss.

  Deep and passionate.

  Our hips buck together.

  He pulls me closer until there’s no space between our bodies. He begins to move faster than before. Lifting my hips, I match his rhythm.

  Fast. Hard. Desperate. Primal.

  A storm starts to brew inside me.

  One thrust.

  Two.

  On the third, I come apart. We both do.

  His body jerks within me, and an audible breath escapes his clenched jaw. In heavy breaths and pants, moans and gasps, we both succumb. We hold each other, our breaths coming out in tandem.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I finally ask.

  “Talk about?”

  “Today. With your brother. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not exactly. I’m over it. Most of his grievances against me are valid. It’s not really him who has me worked up. It’s Chelsea.”

  I stiffen at her name.

  “I know about you and Chelsea, but I know there’s more, Grant. Will you tell me?”

  “Are you sure you want to know?” His eyes seem to turn darker.

  “Honestly? I’m not sure. But I feel like I need to know.”

  He nods. “I need to tell someone. Sometimes I feel like I’ll explode.”

  “Have you ever thought about seeing a professional?” I ask.

  “A shrink? No.”

  “Well, then, allow me to be your shrink for the day.”

  “I’ll try, but I don’t even know where to start.”

  “The beginning?” I say and he lets out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’ve just never told this to anyone. I’ve never trusted anyone to keep this secret, but I trust you.”

  “Tell me.”

  “My wife . . .” he says and then clears his throat. “I know I told you pieces of it, but the rest . . . it’s bad. In the beginning, right when her true colors showed, I guess I kept hoping she’d change. Isabella changed everything for me. She’s my everything, but she’s also my one weakness. That fact is easily exploited.”

  “I don’t understand why you don’t just leave. Why not take Isabella and leave?”

  “Chelsea won’t let me. That’s the thing with her. When she wants something, she gets it. No matter what. For whatever twisted fucking reason, she wants to be married to me. If I left, I’d lose my daughter. That she promised.”

  “How can she keep your daughter from you? I guess I just don’t get it.”

  “Because she’s not mine,” he yells.

  I jump and my jaw drops at his confession. “She’s not yours?”

  Grant regards me with sad eyes. Eyes that have been through more pain than I can ever fathom.

  “I stay because if I don’t, I’ll lose her. I stay and I do everything I can to protect my daughter. Biologically she isn’t mine, but I’ve raised her. She’s mine and I won’t let Chelsea take her from me.”

  “How do you know for sure she isn’t yours?”

  “I had a DNA test done when I first suspected. It wasn’t going to change anything for me, but I needed to know how deep Chelsea’s betrayals and lies went.” Sadness fills me to the depth of my soul. The pain he must go through is unimaginable. Once again I’m met with the similarities between my sisters and me. Again I see the people I care about being ripped apart by a selfish woman.

  “Does Isabella know?” I ask.

  He shakes his head before whispering “No.”

  “You have to tell her.”

  “I can’t.” He looks so defeated. I want to pull him into my arms and tell him it will all be okay, but I know that keeping this secret from his daughter will hurt her in the future. I know what Lynn went through when she found out her father wasn’t her father, and Isabella has a right to know.

  “I know this is hard to hear, but one day you have to tell her. When I was in high school, we found out my father had an affair, which resulted in me having another sister. My family lost years because we never knew the truth.”

  “This is different. There is no father. Chelsea won’t tell, ever. Keeping him a secret is too valuable to her. If I tell, I could lose my daughter.” His words sink in and I nod in agreement. There’s nothing more I can say right now, maybe in the future things will be different. Maybe then he will listen and be open to it. But for right now, I’ll just be here for him.

  “I’m sorry, Grant.”

  “I have no choice right now. I stay for one reason and one reason only. Isabella. I’ve thought about walking away a million times, but I’d sacrifice my own happiness to make sure my daughter is safe. Chelsea isn’t a good mother.”

  “You’re a good father. Isabella is lucky to have you.”

  “I’m not as good as she deserves. I work long hours and a nanny practically raises her.”

  I balk at his comment.

  “Stop. Most parents work. You’re doing what needs to be done to provide for Isabella.”

  “I need to be there more for her, Bridget, and I’m not.” He huffs.

  “You’re a good man, Grant. Give yourself a break. You’re running a multimillion-dollar hotel chain. You’re providing for Isabella’s future. Nobody questions that you’re a good father.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “Office talk. I hear it all. People genuinely think you’re a good person. Scary, but good.”

  “Scary?”

  “Totally frightening.”

  He chuckles.

  “You’re something else, Bridget Miller.” He smiles.

  I watch as his smiles fades and his eyes drill into mine. I’m almost afraid of what’s coming next.

  “That night, when I saw you standing there, you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I had a shitty day, and I was so angry, but somehow this stranger in front of me made it all disappear. All the bad of my marriage, my family issues, that fucking day just melted away when I saw you.”

  I’m speechless. That’s not at all where I thought the conversation was going. He looked so serious, so brooding. To know that is what he thought when he first saw me is flooring.

  “Grant, I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “When I kissed you, I didn’t want to stop. I knew you could be my ruin. I had to get away. I should’ve stayed away.”

  “I came to you, Grant. I might not have known it that first day, but I did all the same. I have to believe everything happens for a reason. Maybe I was meant to come into your life to help you through this time.”

  Grant scoffs. “It’s just the universe fucking with my life a little more. It keeps dangling you in front of me. The fucking forbidden fruit.” His eyes pierce mine. “I want to give you so much more than I can right now. I can’t promise you forever and it’s killing me.”

  His words sting, but they aren’t new to me. I know this, and although I don’t truly want to accept it, I have no other choice. I’ll take any sliver Grant Lancaster throws my way, because despite myself, I’ve fallen for him.

  “Then promise me right now,” I say.

  Right now he’s having a hard time seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Che
lsea has his balls in a vise, twisting and turning every other day. Eventually, she’ll tire of her own games. Women like that never stay happy long. After a while, all this won’t be enough to keep her. I know her kind. Grant can’t see it now, but I can. One day he’ll be free of her, and when that time comes I’ll have my shot. He’s worth waiting for.

  I walk over to him and kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Let’s get that Chinese. I’m starving.”

  “Anything for my girl.” He gives me an all-American smile and I melt.

  It’s all worth it. He’s worth it.

  “What’s this?” Bridget asks as we lie entwined in each other’s arms. Her finger trails a circle over a small scar on my chest.

  “Nothing,” I hiss, moving her hand away from my skin. Instantly, I regret the move. I didn’t mean to snap at her. I’m just not used to anyone touching me, let alone touching a place that holds a memory like that one. Softly, her fingers touch my hand and give a little squeeze. I lift my head and look at her blue eyes filled with nothing but concern for me.

  “Please,” she whispers. “Please tell me about this scar. It obviously hurts you, but if you tell me maybe you will find some sort of peace in the memory.”

  I realize I want to tell her. I finally want to open up to another person and why can’t I?

  “I was a kid when I got it. I don’t remember much, but what I do remember is I’d fallen and gotten stuck and Spencer saved me.” My back is stiff as I remember my older brother saving me. He was always saving me.

  “Saved you how?” Her voice rises.

  “When he recounts the story, he says I fell from a tree and got stuck on a branch overlooking the lake at one of our family homes. The branch was about to crack and if I’d fallen, I would’ve drowned because I couldn’t swim.”

  Bridget gasps. “Oh my God. That’s scary. Spencer must’ve been quick on his feet to save you.”

  “He was. Spencer was always looking out for me.”

  Her face softens. “Please reach out to Spencer,” she pleads. “You clearly miss him, Grant.”

  “Too much time has passed. What would I even say at this point?”

  “Be honest. Tell him you made a mistake and ask for forgiveness.”

  “Why should I apologize? My father kicked me out. My brother stole my rightful position. It’s them who should be apologizing.”

  “Listen to yourself. Do you really believe the words you’re saying? It wasn’t long ago that you confided in me you made the mistake of marrying Chelsea. So, which is it?”

  “I’m done talking about this,” I snap.

  “Don’t let your pride get in the way of a future with your family. You’ll never regret saying you’re sorry, but you’ll regret not saying it.”

  She’s right. I know she is, but hell if I’ll say it out loud. Pride is something I have in spades. It very well could be my downfall, but I’m not ready to admit that to anyone. Not even Bridget.

  “I’m not apologizing.”

  “It’s a shame. After everything that’s happened between us, you still feel the need to lie to me. You and I both know your family did what they needed to protect the family. It might’ve been harsh and you may not like it, but think about what Chelsea would have if your dad had given in.”

  The thought makes me ill. If Chelsea had her way, she would’ve sunk The Lancaster years ago and taken every last dime.

  “All I’m saying is think about it. I could tell in those few minutes in your office that your brother misses you as much as you miss him—despite whatever shit Chelsea’s talked you into over the years. He’ll forgive you.”

  It’s me who won’t forgive myself.

  “What do we have here?” Bridget asks, eyes sparkling when I step into the elevator, Isabella behind me clinging to my leg. Hiding from the world. When she sees Bridget her eyes light up.

  “Hello.” Isabella claps, remembering Bridget.

  “Hi, Isabella. You came to work with Daddy?”

  “My mommy too,” she whispers.

  Bridget looks up at me with wide eyes. “Is Isabella joining us today?”

  “She’s my right-hand man for the day,” I say, and Isabella lets go of my leg and steps out to face me.

  “But I’m not a man,” she pouts.

  “You’re right, you’re not. You’re my right-hand girl. Better?” I smile.

  A tiny dimple forms in her cheek and my world shifts on its axis. When Isabella smiles, all is right in the world. She’s been the one constant over the years. As many times as I’ve cared for her scrapes and cuts, she’s mended me twice as much. My heart would be made of stone if not for her. With all the disappointment, resentment, and anger, she’s been the one thing that’s grounded me.

  All the anger I have from the events of the morning fade away in her happiness. The elevator chimes, indicating we’ve arrived at my penthouse office. All three of us file out. Isabella runs forward, leaving Bridget and me to follow behind.

  “I didn’t realize Isabella was coming today,” she whispers.

  “Neither did I,” I hiss, barely able to control my anger. I step past her, but her hand grips mine.

  “What happened?”

  “What didn’t?”

  “That bad?” she asks.

  “Worse.” I groan. I don’t even know where to start, and with Isabella in the office, I don’t have much time before she’s asking for something. “Let’s just say the nanny won’t work out and my wife is going away on a trip yet again.”

  “Oh, shit. What can I do to help?”

  “Are you completely against babysitting?” I ask with a wince.

  “I can do that. You have a few important calls today. I’ll keep her occupied.”

  All the tension in my body leaves at her words. I’ve seen the way she’s cared for Isabella in a time of need. She has this under control and for the first time today I feel relief. What have I done to deserve this woman in my life?

  Nothing.

  The truth of that stings. What I wouldn’t give to unabashedly pull her into my arms right now without a single care in the fucking world as to who sees us. My actions in the past make that impossible, now and perhaps forever. I get to live in hell while my wife tours the countryside with yet another fucking fling, leaving me to care for our daughter.

  She touches her hand to my cheek and I melt into her.

  “Go. Work. I’ve got this.” Bridget’s voice pulls me from my dark thoughts.

  She has a way of making tough situations inconsequential. I have no worries that Isabella will be well taken care of and now I can focus on work. I’ve got a mountain of it sitting in front of me, so I push aside the events of the morning and get to work.

  When the shadows change in my office, I realize hours have passed, along with several phone calls with investors. It’s been a productive day, thanks to Bridget. In fact, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of either Bridget or Isabella since I left them this morning.

  I clean up my email, straighten some documents on my desk, and then go in search of the two best women in my life. Rounding the corner, I stop short when I hear giggles.

  “Ready?” Bridget asks Isabella.

  Bridget has Isabella sitting atop her desk Indian style with a plate of food in front of her. Pretending to have a tea party. A few of Isabella’s stuffed animals are sitting next to her on the desk and they are both feeding the dolls. After Bridget makes a big show of how much the panda bear is eating, she offers the fork to Isabella, who takes it and places it in her mouth. She chews and swallows, and Bridget rewards her with a large smile.

  “Do you think Panda wants more?”

  Isabella nods enthusiastically and the routine continues like that for some time. I stand watching how effortlessly Bridget keeps her happy. The two are quite a pair and it does funny things to me. The fact Bridget knows Isabella isn’t my biological daughter but treats her as though she’s the most important little girl in the world means everything to me.

  Isa
bella spies me gawking and calls me out. “Daddy, look!”

  “Hi, princess. Did you eat all your lunch?”

  “She did,” Bridget says proudly. “We’ve been having a great time.”

  “Do you want to come sit in Daddy’s office for a bit?” I throw the offer out, hoping to give Bridget a few minutes break to do whatever she may need.

  “Nope. I’ll stay here,” she says, beaming at Bridget.

  “We have plans, Mr. Lancaster. Go do your work and leave us ladies be,” Bridget teases.

  “Yes. We’ve got plans, Daddy.”

  I smile one last time before nodding my understanding and heading back to my office. I’ll start the second part of the day knowing full well my daughter is in good hands. Isabella loves Bridget and I can’t blame her. Bridget is everything.

  Seeing Bridget with Isabella yesterday was almost too much. I wasn’t expecting to feel such strong emotions watching them together. It made me want her more and that’s not something I can want without complication.

  My door opens slowly and Bridget creeps in and then closes the door. Something is wrong. She won’t look at me as she walks over to place something on my desk, but I notice that her chin quivers.

  “Bridget.” Her head lifts up and I can see unshed tears in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s always about Chelsea,” she whispers.

  “Where is this even coming from?” I ask, not understanding what’s going on.

  “All everyone can talk about is her. No matter where I am. It’s always how smart she is, how beautiful. She’s like a saint”—a tear drips down her cheek—“and she has you. Does she have to have everything?”

  “I don’t know where this came from. Can you calm down.” I stand from my desk and walk over until I’m standing in front of her.

  “How could you even want me? I’m not nearly as beautiful or as smart—”

  “Okay. Stop. Stop right there.” I take a step closer. So close I can feel her breast heave against my chest. I bend my knees to be eye level with her.