“I will share anything you want,” I tell her, pulling my chair out. “Except for my YSL shoes.” I try not to remember the last time I wore those shoes, but the memory comes back before I can stop it. All I see is Manning in my head. I sit down, opening my laptop. “So how does my day look?”
“You have three conference calls and a meeting this afternoon with Kavanaugh,” she says, and I lean my head back and groan.
“Jesus, that man,” I say of the man who has been pushing me to my limits in order to prove to him that I’m just as good as my father. He had me building his whole portfolio again and again. “I swear I don’t even know if I want him at this point.”
She laughs at me. “I will order you lunch,” she says, getting up and walking out. “Besides, you love the rush of coming up with new ideas.”
“I don’t know if I have any other ideas when it comes to him,” I tell her. “Can you tell me when my father comes in, please?”
“I will,” she says, and she walks over to her desk. I click on the local news, and Manning’s face is there front and center. He is looking at something off camera, his face all sweaty as he chews his mouth guard, and all I can do is look at him. I read the bold headline.
Someone lit a fire under the captain’s stick. Dallas takes the game against Buffalo.
I look at him, and I wait for the butterflies to disappear. But they come each fucking time. I swear if I close my eyes hard enough, I still feel his touch on me.
I read the article, not understanding all of the hockey lingo, and if I’m honest, the only thing I think about is the last time I saw him. The last time his wife was there. I stepped away from him right before she turned the corner. I knew it wasn’t smart to be alone with him, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able not to be close to him. I knew all of that, and still, the pull to him was so strong. I ignored her staring at me when Caleb came out of the room, and I even ignored the snippy way she grabbed Jaxon when he asked if he could join us for lunch.
“Your father has arrived.” Chantal’s voice comes through the phone, bringing me out of my daydream.
I get up and walk toward my father's office, knocking on the doorjamb, and he looks up, smiling when he sees me. He is sitting behind his desk, his jacket hanging on the back of his chair. His white button-down shirt is rolled up to his elbows as he reads his newspaper in front of him. “Knock, knock, knock,” I say, and he takes his glasses off.
“Come in, sweetheart,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
“Are you still reading the paper every single morning?” I ask, knowing that it gets delivered to his house, and he brings it with him to the office.
“Seven days a week,” he says.
“Dad, you do know they are going to stop printing those papers one day, and it’s going to be all digital.” I stand here in the middle of his office.
“Bite your tongue, young lady,” he says, and I shake my head, laughing.
“Dad, I don’t think I can handle Kavanaugh,” I tell him. “He is coming over today to talk about his portfolio, and I’m going to hand him over to Tim.”
My father leans back in his chair. “Oh, come on,” he says. “You thrive when it challenges you.”
“I used to but not with him. I’m annoyed to the tenth degree,” I say, and he shakes his head, putting his glasses on and picking the paper back up.
“You’ll be fine,” he says. “You’ll be even better than me.” He picks up his cup of coffee and winks at me. I turn my head and walk out of his office.
I’m almost at my office when I hear her voice. “I think she’ll take the time to speak with me.” I’d know that voice anywhere, and I turn around to see her walking toward the back. She is dressed in black leather pants with a black turtleneck and her brown hair is done perfectly, even with the rain outside. Her face is perfectly made up, and she looks like she walked off a runway. “There she is.” Her voice gets just a touch louder, making people look up from their desks. I see Chantal get up from her desk.
I don’t know why I stand here, but I don’t move. “Evelyn,” she says my name and stops in front of me.
“Murielle,” I say her name, and my stomach feels like I’m going to vomit. “Is there something that I can help you with?”
She laughs loudly, and I see my father stick his head out of his office. “Actually, there is something you can help me with,” she says. “You can stay the fuck away from my husband.” I open my mouth to say something, anything, but she just continues her tirade. “What’s the matter? You have nothing to say to me. You can stop pretending,” she hisses. “He told me everything.” When she tells me those four words, I know she’s lying. I know in my heart she is lying.
“First off, I will have you lower your voice in my workspace,” I tell her. “If you want to have a conversation about what you think you know, then I will have that with you. But I’m not causing a spectacle in the middle of my office.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “You have some nerve coming into my house and having an affair with my husband.” Tim comes out of his office now, and he stands there listening. “You are nothing but a fucking home-wrecker.” The moment she says that, I feel like she slapped me across the face as the blood rushes out of my body.
“Um.” Tim starts to say. “Murielle, I have no idea what is going on right now.”
“Fuck off, Tim,” she hisses at him.
“I’m going to give you thirty seconds before I have someone call security.”
“Call your security!” she shouts. “Call whoever you have to call. Look around, people,” she says, spinning in a circle with her hands outstretched. “Little Miss Perfect coming back home to take over the family business. She decided she wanted to take over my family, but I’m not going to fucking let you.”
“That’s enough!” I shout. “I don’t know what you heard or think is going on,” I say, stepping up to her, “but know this, there are only two people who can ruin your marriage. That’s you and your husband.” I fold my arms over my chest. “So the big question is who ruined it first?” She swallows now. “Now you came here to cause a scene. Consider it done.” I step closer one more time, showing her I’m not going to back down. “Now get the fuck out of my office.” I motion with my chin. “Take you and your bullshit stories somewhere else.”
“Stay the fuck away from my husband!” she shouts.
“Stay the fuck away from me,” I counter. “Next time you think of ambushing, remember who has the most to lose.” She turns around and storms out.
I look around, and everyone quickly averts their eyes. My father stands there with questions on his face. I know I’m going to have to tell him something, but I’m not ready.
I turn and see Chantal looking at me. “I’ll get you some water,” she says, and I just look at her and nod. “And I’ll cancel your day.”
“Thank you,” I say, my voice low now as the lump forms in my throat. I walk with my hands shaking and my head held high. Well, as high as I can when the world is weighing down on me.
My chest is heaving as if I just ran a fucking marathon, my heart beating so fast in my chest. My legs are weak at the knees, and I use my hand to hold on to the desk beside me. The tears sting my eyes as I hear her voice over and over in my head. Home-wrecker.
“She doesn’t come in here.” I hear Manning’s voice in my head. “This is between you and me, and no one else.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat, and I turn and walk back into my office, feeling every single eye on me. Every person sitting there is judging me, wondering how much of what she said was the truth.
Walking to my chair, I almost collapse in it as the thing I feared the most just happened to me. In front of my co-workers, in front of my brother, in front of my father, the biggest secret that I had was laid bare. My hands shake in front of me as I look up and see my brother standing there. “Evelyn,” he says my name. “What the fuck is going on?”
Chapter 27
Ma
nning
“Three hours and we’ll be home,” I say, walking up the stairs to the plane. I sit down and take off my jacket for the three-hour flight home. “My body feels like I got into a fight with five fucking guys,” I say, stretching my arms.
“You did,” Miller says, sitting down next to me. “You took four of them. Ralph tried to take one.”
“Fuck you,” Ralph says when he sits down in front of me, turning to look at me between the seats. “You and that fucking chip you have on your shoulder these past couple of weeks is going to get us in trouble.”
“I don’t know what got you into this frame of mind,” Miller says to me. “But seriously.” I don’t tell him that my life is literally falling apart piece after piece. The only thing I can control right now is what happens on the ice, and I refuse to let go of that last piece. “You need to chill out there. It’s not you against the world.” He looks at Ralph. “You know we’ll have your back no matter what.”
“That depends,” Ralph says from the front, and I laugh at him. There is nothing like having your team stand behind you.
I chuckle. “Hey, we won. Didn’t we?”
Ever since Murielle confronted me in the kitchen, she’s been trying to get me to slip up. She waited for me after the hockey game on Saturday, pretending she found out things when I knew that there was no way she knew anything. I also knew I would not even give her one ounce of information. What is between Evelyn and me was ours. Just ours. Always ours. Only ours. It was the one little thing that gives me the strength to go on, and she isn’t going to take it from me.
“You think I don’t know that is where you went the whole time!” she shouted the minute I closed the door behind me. “You look down your nose at me for fucking Thomas when you had your own whore all along.” I walked away from her, not giving her anything.
“Are you okay?” Miller asks from beside me when the plane takes off. “You’ve been on edge.”
“Shit is happening,” I tell him. “Things that I can’t talk about right now.” I look out the window at the white clouds. “But I’m really fucking hoping this roller-coaster ride I’m on finally stops, and I can get off.”
“You know I’m here for you,” he says. “No matter what it is, I’m on your side.”
“Me, too,” Ralph says. “Whatever you need.”
I nod my head at them, not ready for the storm that is brewing. Nothing could have prepared me for the shit that is waiting for me once the wheels touch down.
I turn my phone on and wait to get my signal. The circle spins around and around for so long that I end up just tucking the phone in my back jeans pocket and get up to disembark. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I say, walking to my SUV. I check and see that it’s just after lunch, so I make my way home.
Parking my SUV, I see that Murielle is home, which is weird since she is always so busy during the day. I get out, slamming my door, then opening the back door to grab my carry-on bag.
Walking into the house, I smell food cooking. I drop my bag off at the door and make my way to the kitchen. We usually have a chef come in, but he comes on Monday and Friday, never on a Wednesday.
I step into the kitchen and see Murielle in front of the stove. “What is going on?” I ask. She turns around, and I see her face fully done with her hair tied. She is wearing leather pants, and I think about how ridiculous she looks.
“Oh, good, you’re home,” she says, turning off the stove. “Right on time.” Something about her tone makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “I made your favorite,” she says, draining the pasta. “I called your mother.” She walks to the sink and tosses the pasta in the colander, the hot steam rising in front of her. “She didn’t answer, of course, so I kind of improvised.” I watch as she prepares two plates.
“It smells amazing, doesn’t it?” She ignores the shock on my face. “I forgot how much I like to cook. I really should just do it.” She walks toward the island and places the plates down in front of the stools, and then turns to get forks. “I came back home, and I had so much energy in me.” She stops and looks at me. “So much energy.” She puts down the forks. “Aren’t you going to ask me where I went?”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” I say, almost afraid. The phone in my pocket pings four times. I’m about to get it from my pocket when she says the words that make ice run through my veins and puts the nail in her coffin. “I went to see your whore.” My head snaps up, and my hand tightens on my phone. “Good, that got your attention.”
“What did you do?” I ask, my teeth clenched, my heart beating so fast I don’t know if I can even listen to her without hearing the beats in my ears as it echoes.
“Well, you left me no choice,” she says. “I had to tell her that she is not going to come into my home and just take what’s mine. I had to lay down my claim.”
“Lay down your claim?” I repeat the words, not sure if I heard her right.
“She was surprised.” She unties the apron she’s wearing. “I’ll give her that. She thought I was going to do it quietly. Oh, no.” She shakes her head. My phone rings in my hand now, and I see Tim’s name.
“Oh my god,” I say.
“Oh my god is fucking right!” she shouts. “She is lucky that I have class, and I didn’t knock her fucking teeth out.”
I walk to her now. Stopping right in front of her, I make sure she looks into my eyes. “You fucked with me for the last time,” I tell her. She tries to push me, and I grab her wrists in my hands. “You wanted a fucking war.” I get closer to her face. “You have one.”
I let go of her wrists. “Don’t you threaten me, Manning.”
I don’t bother saying another word to her. Instead, I turn and practically run out of my house. The first place I call is the school.
“Hi there, this is Mr. Stevenson,” I tell the secretary. “I’m going to be coming to pick up Jaxon in ten minutes. I forgot he had an appointment.”
“No problem,” she says, and I see that I have Becca calling on the other line as I race to the school.
“Hello.” I switch the calls, my heart beating in my chest.
“We got it,” she says, and if I didn’t have to rush to Jaxon, I would pull the car over. I would stop the car and ask her what she means by that, but I don’t have time. “Manning,” she says, “we fucking got it. I sent everything to your private email.”
“I need a favor,” I tell her. “I’ll be at your office in thirty minutes. I will have Jaxon, and I need you to watch him for a couple of hours,” I say, honking my horn while I pass a yellow light, and she hears my voice.
“Manning, I need you to tell me what is going on,” she says, and I hear the urgency in her voice.
“I’m done,” I tell her. “Done playing the game. Done waiting for shit to happen. It’s time for me to make shit happen. Can you watch him?”
“Of course,” she tells me. “I’m going to rent a room.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” I tell her. “I don’t know how she is going to react.”
“Oh, I can tell you right now how she’s going to react,” Becca says. “Bitch is going to fly on her fucking broomstick. I hope you're ready.”
“Almost,” I tell her. “Is everything ready on your end?”
“It is,” she says. “The papers are ready.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon.” I hang up on her, and I call Tim back. My heart beats so fast in my chest that I have no idea how I’m driving right now.
“Manning,” he whispers. “Did you not get my fucking texts?”
“I didn’t,” I tell him. “Or maybe I did. I just landed.” I don’t know if he knows anything, and I’m afraid to say anything. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he says. “What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what's wrong. If your wife steps one fucking foot in this company again, I’m putting a fucking restraining order against her. I will knock her the fuck out if she thinks she’s going to come in here and spew her shit.”
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I stop at a red light, my blood pressure going higher and higher. “What did she do?”
“She came here to attack my sister about sleeping with you,” Tim says, and now if I wasn’t done before, I’m done now. “In front of her whole staff. In front of everyone who works here and our father.”
“Tim,” I say, my voice soft. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”
“No shit,” he says. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Where is she?” I ask, hoping he tells me, but knowing that even if he doesn’t tell me, I’m going to fucking find her.
“Murielle?” he asks. “Fuck if I know. Hopefully, a fucking house fell on her, and someone is wearing red fucking slippers.”
“Evelyn,” I say her name, my heart breaking for her. “Where is Evelyn?”
“She went home,” he says. “From your tone, I’m guessing some of what Murielle said is true,” he groans. “Fuck me.”
I pull up to the school. “Listen, Tim, I can’t explain right now,” I tell him, getting out of the car and rushing into the school, “but the second I can I will.”
“You need to keep my number in case shit goes down.” His voice goes low. “My sister does not need this shit.”
“I’ll agree with you there,” I say and open the door, disconnecting. I walk into the school and hear Jaxon yelling my name. His backpack is on his back, and he’s carrying his lunch box in his hand.
“Daddy.” He runs to me. I grab him in my arms and kiss his neck. “I missed you,” he says to me, and I look over at the secretary, who smiles at us.
“I signed him out for you.” I nod at her and walk out of the school. My phone rings again, and this time, it’s Murielle. I send her straight to voice mail, and then a text comes in.
Murielle: Don’t make me fucking find you, Manning.
“What appointment do I have?” Jaxon asks when I buckle him in the car in record speed and kiss his cheek. I run around the SUV and get in, taking off before anyone can stop me.
“Actually, I’m taking you to visit Aunt Becca,” I say to him, and his eyes light up. “She wanted to spend some time with you.”
Only One Night (Only One Series 3) Page 15
