Ask Me Something (The Something Series Book 2)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  The tears in both their eyes showed me how they felt about not having known any of it.

  “Also, you should know that my birth mother died.” I sipped my tea feeling marginally better after telling them everything.

  The look that they shared made it obvious they’d already heard the news. More secrets, and yet at this point, it didn’t matter. How hypocritical for me to ask that they confide in me when I’d spent years hiding the shame of my anxiety attacks from the world.

  My father cleared his voice and got up to pace the floor. “I’m sorry, Sasha. If we’d known that attorney had a way of contacting you, we would’ve told you sooner that he’d informed us as well. We didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

  I wasn’t even angry at this omission. Considering the way I handled stress, was it any wonder people kept things from me? Sighing, I confided what had happened three years ago with paying for failed rehab and not returning the calls recently.

  “Maybe if I’d called him back and had given them money for rehab, she would be getting better instead of—” Another sob broke free as the guilt slammed into me. As much as I’d tried to tell myself she didn’t deserve my money, time, or love, the thought of her dying alone left me devastated.

  My big bear of a dad held me like he had when I’d been sixteen and had fallen apart the first time.

  Finally, when my eyes had gone dry, my father spoke softly. “She was in a state-run rehab when she passed. She was getting help, but it was too late. It was her heart from years of drug abuse. And you should know, your mother and I, we paid for a private burial. It’s not much, but there’s a headstone in a local cemetery outside of Raleigh.”

  I pulled back and searched their faces. “Why did you do that?”

  My mom sat beside me and stroked my hair. “We did it in case you ever wanted to go there. Your birth mother had a troubled life that none of us could have ever saved her from, but without her, we wouldn’t have you. She deserved that much from us.”

  I hugged her tight. Where on this earth could I have ever found better people? “Thank you.” I sat back and wiped my eyes, slowly getting back to even ground.

  My mom hesitated but then got up and walked into the kitchen. She came back with an envelope in her hand. “Her attorney, he gave us this to give to you. When you’re ready.”

  “I’ll take it with me, read it when I am. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this lost. I’m not sure where to go from here.”

  My father patted my knee. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I saw a survivor. There’s nothing you can’t conquer if you put your mind to it. You’ve been doing it your whole life. So you take one day at a time.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not strong, Daddy. Look at me.”

  “You know, you keep telling yourself that, and you may even start to believe it. Do you think people who are strong get there because they’ve never had to handle adversity?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “I’d argue the toughest people got there the hard way. You, baby girl, have always pushed yourself. You could’ve chosen a lot easier path, but you didn’t. And no matter what happened today with Brian, I could tell when that boy came here for our party that he loves you. It was written all of his face when he looked at you.”

  I smiled at the fact that he called Brian a boy. In my Daddy’s eyes, we were both still kids. I took a deep breath. “He thinks he does.”

  “And why do you say it like he couldn’t possibly?”

  “Because he didn’t know about any of this.” I motioned to myself. Here I was, a thirty-two-year-old woman, sitting on the couch and crying my eyes out in front of my parents.

  “Seems like he does now,” my mother whispered.

  “I fire hosed him with it all, and I know he feels bad—” My sentence was interrupted.

  “Do you think he loves you because he feels sorry for you?” my dad asked, indignant at the very thought.

  I cracked a smile at his disapproving tone. “No, but he saw only what I wanted him to over the last eight years. Now he sees all of it. I can’t stand to have him look at me like I’m broken. He deserves better than a crack-addict’s daughter who has an anxiety disorder and the inability to handle stress.”

  I was unprepared for my mother’s anger when she shot up from her seat.

  “You listen here, Sasha Jayne Brooks. You’re not some crack-addict’s daughter, you hear me? You’re my daughter and that of your father. We raised you, and you’re as much a part of us as if I’d given birth to you. I don’t ever want to hear you demean yourself like that again. You should be damn proud of yourself, because I know we sure are.”

  My brows shot up in shock. In thirty-two years, I’d never heard my mother swear. A giggle escaped my lips. “Did you just curse momma?”

  My dad laughed, and then my mom cracked a smile. “Damn straight I did. Should tell you how passionate I feel about the subject.”

  For once, coming home had been the best decision.

  ***

  While the moonlight still shone in the windows of my childhood bedroom early Sunday morning, I got up and took a walk on the beach. It was deserted at this early hour and it gave me peace. Sitting down in my favorite spot, I waited until dawn started to color the sky before I took the folded envelope out of my pocket.

  There was no letter like I’d expected, but instead was a photograph that had seen better days. It showed a beautiful teenage girl with a baby tucked into her arms, smiling tiredly into the camera. On the back it simply said.

  “I always loved you Sasha.”

  The tears flowed freely and I wiped my nose on my sleeve. I’d always assumed I’d been given up because my birth mother hadn’t loved me. But I’d never considered the kind of unselfish love it took to give your child up in order to give them a better life. My parents as I’d always known them provided me the life my birth mother never could have.

  Looking up, I saw my sister approaching. She was the last person I’d have expected. She settled beside me, putting her arm around me.

  I broke the silence after a couple of minutes. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  “We came over to the house to meet for church, and Dad told me about your birth mom passing. I figured you’d be here. I’m really sorry by the way.”

  “Thanks, but how did you know it was here in this spot?” I was hidden away from anyone driving by and I hadn’t parked a car.

  She sighed. “After you’d found out about being adopted, I used to follow you, back in the day, when you’d come here. You would sit for hours, sometimes staring, sometimes crying. I’ve always regretted that I didn’t try to comfort you.”

  I swallowed hard at that image. “You were only twelve, Addison, hardly able to know what to do. And I didn’t know how to let anyone in at the time. Hell, I’m still working on it.” But it seemed I was getting better by the minute.

  “I was always so in awe of you,” she whispered.

  “You mean until that day.”

  She shook her head. “No, even more so after, actually. You were so strong and so independent. I was always intimidated by it.”

  I raised an incredulous brow. “I was barely holding it together.”

  She sighed. “I wish I would’ve known.”

  We sat there in silence as the sun came up.

  Finally, I spoke. It was the first time I’d ever confided in my sister. “Brian had a nickname for me. It was Sasha-B-Fierce. That image came crashing down yesterday in the form of a panic attack.”

  She regarded me for a moment before answering. “The fall always seems further when viewed with your own eyes than it actually is. After I had Kassandra, I suffered from postpartum depression. I was much harder on myself than everyone else combined.”

  I looked at her, stunned.

  She drew a shaky breath before continuing. “Here I was with an amazing husband and three beautiful children already. I should’ve been a pro. Instead, I could barely get out of bed and woul
d cry for no reason. Mom and Dad knew and, of course, Ryan, but I was humiliated. I’d worked so hard to be the perfect mother and show I could do it all, and yet I couldn’t seem to function.”

  I could hardly believe she’d been through this, and I’d been clueless. She always seemed to have it together. “What did you do?”

  “Well, I started out telling Ryan he needed to leave me, because he was better off without someone like me. He of course told me to shut up and that he couldn’t afford the child support even if he wanted to.”

  I grinned. “I can see him saying that.”

  She laughed. “I got counseling. When I told my therapist he’d said that, she was appalled, but after meeting him, she realized it’s his personality. And it’s what I’d needed, a little laughter, instead of sympathy all of the time. I still go to a group thing once a week and meet with other women who are going through it now. Ironically, helping others is how I got through the feeling of inadequacy. Once you realize everyone struggles, you stop beating yourself up so much. I guess what I’m attempting to say is trying to be perfect is exhausting. Trying to keep up the perception when you know you’re not is even worse. It’s like you’re lying to yourself every day in the hopes that no one will catch on. I don’t want my kids to grow up having this unrealistic expectation of themselves or others. I want them to know it’s okay to make mistakes and have problems. The best way I could do that is to be honest with my own.”

  I’d never thought about it from that perspective, and wondered if that was why Juliette hadn’t wanted to confide in me. Had I alienated people from confiding in me because I’d always gone out of my way to project this image that I didn’t struggle? Clearly the answer was yes considering this was the first time Addison had ever admitted something in her life was less than perfect.

  Ironic that admitting our faults was making me feel closer to my sister than I ever had. “I’m sorry. I wish I would’ve known, but in saying that realize I’ve never given you a reason to confide in me like this.”

  “I wish I would’ve known about you, too. But now that we do, we could be there for one another.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’d like that. I love you Addison.”

  Her shocked eyes met mine. Sadly I wasn’t sure I’d ever said those words to her.

  “I love you too Sasha.”

  We returned to the house and enjoyed a family brunch. There were no snipes, no passive-aggressive comments, and I realized the vulnerable Sasha I’d worked so hard to hide turned out to be more likeable than the defensive version. After my sister and family left, I went upstairs to pack, intending to return to New York tonight.

  My dad knocked lightly and came in the already-open door. He took a seat on my bed. “What’s the plan?”

  I shrugged. “Back to work. As far as Brian and the personal stuff—I’m petrified and don’t know what to do.” I’d had a lot of self-reflection upon coming home and was beginning to get past the humiliation of what had happened, but how could I be certain Brian loved the real me?

  “Darlin’, you’re the quarterback in the red zone on fourth down with inches to go. Do you want the ball, or will you settle for the field goal?”

  I grinned. “I want the ball.”

  “You always have. But what you need to remember is that you’ve got an entire team behind you, blocking, cheering, what have you. There’s nothing wrong with relying on those who love you to support you, Sasha Jayne. No one can do everything alone.”

  “You’re right.” I already felt lighter having confided in my family.

  “Good. And remember, nothing says if you don’t like the play, that you can’t revise and call an audible. You’re in control, baby girl, and don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”

  How could I possibly argue with a man who could spin a football metaphor into a life lesson?

  ***

  Waiting in the airport for the last flight, I winced when Josh’s number came up on my cell phone. I wondered immediately if Brian had confided the personal details of our relationship to him, but then realized, it didn’t bother me if he had.

  “Sasha Brooks here.”

  “Sasha, it’s Josh. I hope I’m not calling too late.” Was it my imagination or did he sound off?

  “No, I’m at the airport waiting on my flight back up to New York. Everything okay?”

  “Actually, no. I’m in a predicament. Brian had a conflict come up for tomorrow morning’s NASCAR pitch, and I need someone to step in.”

  “That pitch is huge. What could possibly conflict with it?”

  He exhaled. “NASCAR is big, but this is bigger. Will you do it?”

  Clearly, he wasn’t going to tell me the reason.

  “Yes, of course. I, uh, need the pitch deck and any notes. I’m at the airport now. Raleigh is a three-hour drive, but I’d prefer to fly, so I can use the time to prepare.”

  “I can have my plane there within the hour. I’m forwarding all of the information as we speak. The two other members presenting with you have been advised of the change. I’ll send you their details and you can plan to meet with them in the morning. I owe you.”

  It might be inappropriate on a professional level to ask, but I had to. “Tell me the conflict isn’t a meeting with Tryon Pharmaceuticals on my behalf.”

  “Not directly, no. Good luck tomorrow, Sasha.”

  After hanging up the phone, I texted Brian.

  “What’s going on tomorrow that you’re not able to do the NASCAR pitch?”

  By the time the company’s private plane flew me to Raleigh, North Carolina, and I arrived at my hotel, it was around midnight. In that time I’d studied everything I could about the NASCAR pitch. The good news is that, having grown up in the South, I’d had the damn sport—or in my opinion, non-sport because unless I could see an ass in tight pants and there was a ball, it didn’t qualify—shoved down my throat. My father was a fan, with racing a close second to football. It didn’t take long for me to brush up on the key drivers, standings, and races. It was going to be an all-nighter, but I would absolutely be ready. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight anyhow, knowing Brian still hadn’t responded to my text message.

  I met my team of two others before the pitch at the local diner first thing in the morning, and we went over our cues. At least I knew both of them, and they were grateful I was stepping in last minute.

  Ninety minutes later, we were in the corporate offices, and I was tossing up my pancake breakfast right on cue in the ladies’ room. I put my lack of sleep, Brian’s non-response, and all anxiety out of my head. It was game time, or was it start-your-engine time? Maybe it was a good omen I was thinking in NASCAR terms.

  ***

  I left for New York directly after the presentation and arrived in the early afternoon. I was tempted to call Josh but knew if he’d wanted to answer the question as to why Brian had missed the pitch, he would’ve told me already. Or Brian himself would have. Unfortunately, he still hadn’t responded.

  My eyes were heavy, but I managed to go into the office and work a couple of hours before Nancy buzzed in. “Ms. Brooks, I have Mr. Singer here to see you.”

  “Uh, of course, send him in.” Josh had never once come to my office unannounced.

  Nancy gave me a look that reflected her surprise as well while she showed him in.

  I stood up to greet him. “I could’ve saved you the trouble and come to your office.”

  “You’re operating on no sleep after giving a killer pitch. The least I could do was to come over here.”

  “How do you know it was killer?”

  “The client called. They were very pleased and we got the account. Plus Brian received an email today from one of the managers you presented with, saying how you slayed it. Do you know that there isn’t one other vice president who could’ve pulled that off this morning like you did? Especially operating on no sleep with only ten hours of lead time.”

  “Thank you.” It was high praise indeed coming fr
om Josh.

  “No, it’s you I should be thanking.”

  “You’re welcome. Are you going to tell me why Brian missed it?”

  He sighed. “I promised him I wouldn’t speak to you about it.” He handed me a paper over my desk. “But I didn’t say anything about showing you.”

  I scanned it briefly, and my heart sank. It was Brian’s resignation. “Because of me?”

  Josh looked like he wanted to say something. “The only thing I can tell you is there was a meeting with Michael Dobson, the Chairman for Tryon, this morning. He was appalled that Vanessa had removed you. As of now, you’re back on the account, and all decisions going forward need to be approved by him. Vanessa is no longer an employee of Tryon Pharmaceuticals.”

  “Holy crap. She was fired?”

  “Yes, she was.”

  “But how did Brian’s resignation come into play?”

  “Michael said to convey his apology to you because, unfortunately, he’s leaving on a two-week vacation to Australia this afternoon and can’t do so in person. We were lucky enough to get the meeting with him this morning.”

  Why was he speaking so cryptically? Then I finally saw it. “Oh shit. Brian took the meeting with Dobson this morning instead of doing the NASCAR pitch?”

  Josh nodded.

  I stood up and paced. “I’m going to kill him. He could’ve waited, or I would’ve dealt with being off the account. Why did he need to be there? Wait, you didn’t demand his resignation, did you?”

  He looked insulted. “Of course not.”

  “I know you made a promise, but you’re going to have to spell it out for me Josh.”

  He hesitated, and then decided to spill it. “Brian was upset that Vanessa took you off the account on Friday. I told him to wait until Monday for me to address it with Michael and not to say anything to anyone until then. But he called her Saturday demanding that you be reinstated. He told her he was going to take it up to the chairman and unfortunately Vanessa escalated things.”

  “Escalated how?” Something told me things got ugly fast.

  “Brian will have to explain those details. Unfortunately this morning was the only time we could meet with Michael and with what transpired, Brian’s presence became required, which is why you had to do the pitch down in Raleigh.”