by Adair Rymer
“Tea.” She said, unfazed, as if all the options were equally acceptable. Bianca could make ice cubes shiver.
We walked from the foyer into my kitchen. Some of Claire's clothing and clutter was still laying around. I'd always been meticulous about maintaining my apartment but I couldn't bring myself to remove her things. They were the only thing keeping the place from feeling like a mausoleum.
Rule number three— Never bring girls home. No other woman had ever seen my apartment, let alone spent the night. Claire was different, she practically lived here for a short time. That was a big deal for me.
Now that she was gone I couldn't bring myself to restore the place to how it was. It would be like she was never here. I wasn't quite ready for that.
“Help yourself. I stole the tea from your first floor restaurant.” I pointed over toward the correct cupboard, filling a rocks glass with bourbon. “If you weren't upset at me then why didn't you answer my calls?”
“I was busy.”
“No, I understand. The job market is crazy right now. If you'd like I can put a good word in for you at the Starbucks across the street. I hear they're always hiring.”
“They are?” One side of her lips cracked upward, it was the closest thing to a smile she was capable of without hurting herself. “I own that building too and I'll have to inquire as to their employee turnaround.”
“Was that a joke? Should I call an ambulance?” I smiled, watching her cracked grin deepen ever so slightly. Bianca refused to reply as she steeped her tea so I changed the subject and continued. “I'll have you know that I've been working tirelessly to find a way to get you reinstated.”
“The only thing you can do is nothing.” She looked at me flatly, then discarded her tea bag. “As a safeguard against corruption, the bylaws prevent anyone ousted from the top position to be reelected for at least six months.”
“Nothing?” I scoffed. “Was that an insult or should I write that off as constructive criticism?”
Absorbing and studying and meeting people in a business setting made these last few months hellish. I worked my ass off for what was probably the first time in my life and to hear her brush all that off was cutting.
“So I'll be leaving for Hawaii tomorrow, you let me know how everything worked out.” I held up my glass, toasting to her. It was a joke, I had one more thing to do before I ever left NYC.
“Nothing of any negative media attention.” Bianca didn't bother to address my fake vacation plans. “Stay in good standing with the Board Members. Make them money. Keep our stock lowering any further, and at the end of the six months, hold a vote to bring me back in as CEO.”
“Because that went so well last time.” I took a sip and pointed out the obvious. They kicked her out, why would they ever elect her back? “Why doesn't Adam Boniello like you? Aside from your glowing personality, of course. You didn't turn one of his relatives to stone with one of your glares, did you?”
“I'll deal with the Board Members, including Mr. Boniello. For the next three months stay out of the media and whatever you do, do not go see Claire.”
“She's not answering my calls. I need to tell her what happened.” I was pretty sure that if she hadn't blocked me before, she definitely did after those pictures were released. I had to find her and explain what happened. Then my fists and I were going to have a few words with my former best friend.
Why had he done that? What did Anthony have to gain by betraying my trust like that? Questions and resentment rattled around my head like rocks in a tin can.
“Absolutely not.” Bianca stated bluntly. “If you get caught anywhere near her the media will make it out that not only did you cheat on her, but now you're groveling for her to come back to you.”
So many things were wrong with that statement.
“I never touched those girls.” I said, my mind flashing back to Anthony's set up. I mixed my rising anger with the last sip of bourbon then swallowed them both. It wouldn't do me any good to be upset at Bianca. I'd need to save that rage for the next time I saw Anthony. “Besides, that was two and a half months after Claire dumped me. Who cares?”
“You really think that's the story they're going to run with?” Bianca shot me an incredulous look. “For a man who's been in the media so often, how are you still so naïve? It doesn't matter what's true; the only thing that matters is what sells. You should know that by now.”
“Fuck them. They can write whatever they want.” It was such an easy position to fall back into, it was almost a personal philosophy of mine. I did what I wanted, or what I thought was best, and everyone else could go screw themselves. “No one gets a say in what I do with my life.”
“Let me make this crystal clear.” Bianca's tone went up slightly like it used to when she would attempt to discipline me after she became my legal guardian. “If you're seen with Claire, public opinion will crucify you and that will drive down our stock value. We're a family company, Maynard, and until I can get reinstated as CEO, you are the face of that company.”
“Stocks fluctuate all the time, who gives a shit if we take a hit now and then?”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous the corporate world is? If our company looks weak we're liable to get bought out by someone else, then merged.”
I shrugged, leaning forward in a So What gesture. There was still a lot that I didn't know about business but partnering up with another company didn't sound too bad for us, especially if they let us keep our family's name on the company. There was also typically a huge buyout for the original owners.
“Whenever that happens there's almost always staffing redundancies and that means massive layoffs. Thousands of our employees will lose their jobs, Maynard. Is pleading your case to your ex-girlfriend really worth destroying the lives of so many people that have always supported our family?”
I stayed quiet. I hadn't thought about that. I didn't like this world. I was doing the best I could but it was never enough. I wasn't cut out to be in charge of a company.
“I understand that you care very deeply for Claire, I do, but wasn't she the one who asked you for space in the first place? Honor that, at least for a few more months, for all of our sakes.”
Bianca's phone vibrated. She checked it, then texted back for a few minutes. Finally she broke away long enough to make her way back to the coat rack.
“You're leaving already?” I followed after her.
“You're not the only one working on getting that charity foundation off the ground.” Bianca slid on her white coat, the color and cut made her look like nobility. “Good work by the way.”
“Be still my beating heart,” I gasped in mostly mock surprise. “Was that a compliment?”
I immediately regretted my sarcastic tone. I could count on one hand the amount of times Bianca had complimented me. In truth it did make me feel really good to know that she was still working on the organization and that she approved of what I'd done on it so far.
“Stay away from Claire,” Bianca warned, instead of acknowledging the ribbing.
“Scout's honor,” I said, holding up the three fingered Boy Scout salute.
I had absolutely no intention of keeping my word.
“I'll be in touch.” Bianca narrowed her eyes at me, passing judgment, then closed the door behind her.
When I was sure she was gone, I walked back into the kitchen for my phone. I thought about my next course of action very carefully. This was a delicate time for everyone; I had to be extremely careful about which path I chose going forward.
The right answer was to listen to Bianca. I should stay home and keep my head down for the next few months while I rebuilt my reputation. Soon the Board would vote Bianca back in and then we could launch that charity.
There was a dark side to that though. If I let three more months slip by without any explanation, I would definitely lose Claire forever. Could I really let that girl slip away without fighting for her?
“Yeah, I was never a good Boy Sco
ut.” I reminded myself as I called Christian. I had always done the right thing for the wrong reasons.
It was time to do the wrong thing for the right reasons.
“Any word from her apartment?” I asked.
“Unfortunately no, sir. Ms. Tremont's neighbor said that she had gone home to visit her family.”
“Damn.” That was going to make things much more difficult. I lowered the phone to think for a moment then came up with a plan. It wasn't a great plan but it could work.
“Christian, please send up some inconspicuous clothing. Baseball cap, jeans, a thick scarf, that sort of thing.”
“Something other than a suit?” Christian asked warily, his dry sense of humor showing despite his efforts. “Are you feeling well, sir?”
“Make sure the jet is fueled up. I'll hopefully be feeling better when we get to Chicago.”
Chapter 13
Claire
“Was this room always this small, Angry Cat?” I stared at the once glow-in-the-dark stars that lined the ceiling of my old bedroom. I was too exhausted to sleep. My whole apartment in NYC was basically one big bedroom. Maybe it was the lack of a kitchen in here that made this room look tiny.
Angry Cat didn't reply.
After everything that had happened these last six months with Chance, then with Maynard and now with the baby I almost expected the stuffed animal to give me a response. My plushy cat was the only thing other than clothes and my laptop that I brought with me to my parents' house.
I couldn't be in that apartment any longer, there were too many memories. It was crazy how many big moments in my life happened between those walls. They weren't all bad experiences. I did have some good times with that jerk, Chance, and it was in that apartment that I hooked up with Maynard for the first time.
But the bad times were really hard. I still hadn't recovered from knowing that Anthony could break in whenever he wanted. I had both Jonas and Lucy on the lookout for unwanted Billionaires trying to get in.
Yeah that was a weird conversation.
And now with the release of these pictures of Maynard going back to his old ways... I needed to escape before I lost my mind. The flight home was a cheap standby seat. I hadn't even told my parents I was showing up but I had nowhere else to go.
I told school that there was a family emergency and that I needed to go home for a few days. I wasn't lying. This baby is my family now, and I'd say finding out about him or her was a goddam emergency.
To their credit my parents only went nuclear after I told them I was pregnant. That was a two hour conversation that took ten years off the end of my life. My parents weren't Luddites, they had seen the pictures of Maynard with the two women online. Any leeway they might have given him evaporated.
It didn't help that I tried to defend him through most of it. I still had such mixed feelings about the whole thing. I had trouble accepting the pictures as being real. I really felt like I knew him. Maynard wasn't a bad person. He had his flaws, but this event that he went to seemed to fly in the face of everything he was trying to accomplish. I wish I knew what was going on with him.
Him? I was the one having a baby!
I pressed my palms into my forehead. This couldn't have happened at a worst time. I did the math in my head I'd be taking my final exams toward the end of my second trimester. Was it even possible to study with baby brain? These next few months were going to seriously suck.
I was so angry at everything! Maynard had obviously moved on if he was already sleeping with other women. Thinking of him being touched by anyone else made me feel sick. It didn't matter that I dumped him, I still hated it. I didn't want to leave him, it just seemed like that was the only way to accomplish my goals.
Now I wasn't so sure it was the right decision.
It was more than just anger, the thought of giving birth all alone made me sad and afraid. How was I going to do this all by myself? I would have to move back in with my parents and lose the freedom I was so proud of. One of the happiest pre-Maynard moments in my life was the day I left home.
My parents were very strict: their house, their rules. I liked not having a curfew. I liked playing my music loud and eating whatever I wanted. If I decided to go out drinking all night there was no one at my apartment to judge me. Moving back here, even if it was with a diploma, felt like I had failed.
Oh, God, what was I going to do?
A tap at the window near my headboard startled me. The wind was picking up. A small piece of ice probably dislodged from a tree and— another tap, then another.
What the hell?
I got out of bed and pushed aside the curtains. I looked out my second story window into an unnatural darkness. Usually there were diffused lights through the trees from the neighbor's house or some moonlight or something.
Then the darkness shifted and I realized I was staring directly at a person's shirt. Someone was nearly pressed up against my bedroom window.
“Hi,” the muffled voice said through the glass.
“Ahh!” I screamed and fell backward. I was freaking out that, Anthony had come for me or sent some sort of assassin! I needed a weapon to defend myself so I grabbed the flashlight that I kept on my nightstand.
“It's me,” Maynard whispered, calmingly. He tugged down the scarf that he wore over most of his face and lit himself with his cellphone light. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
I had to read the words on his lips because all I could hear was the thunder of blood pumping in my ears. My heart strained against my ribs, threatening to explode. I struggled to my feet with a hand over my chest. I don't think I’d ever been that scared before.
As soon as I unlocked the window, Maynard had it open. I shivered against the cold gust of wind that followed him. It felt arctic to me because I only wore a sleeveless shirt and flannel pants. Maynard saw my discomfort and closed the window right after.
“Are you out of your mind?!” I shouted at the top of my angry whisper. “Coming in here like Batman? What is wrong with you? You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!”
“Sorry. But knowing how your parents feel about me, I knew this was the only way I was going to get to see you.” Maynard unraveled his scarf and pulled back his knitted cap.
From his cargo pants to his insulated coat to the turtleneck beneath that, Maynard wore all black. The only color on him was his crisp blue eyes; they were little pools of Caribbean water. I always felt like I could escape in those eyes.
“I didn't mean to interrupt anything.”
“Interrupt?” I asked. It was nearly four in the morning. What could he possibly be interrupting besides sleep, and I wasn't getting that anyways. Maynard's eyes flicked down to the weapon in my hand. My face flushed in horror when I realized I wasn't holding my flashlight.
Really, Claire? I cursed myself and my flashlight, which still laid innocuously on the nightstand. I sprang backward like I was pulled by a wire and stuffed my veiny blue dildo beneath my pillow. I was so embarrassed.
“Or were you waiting for me?” Maynard's stupid handsome face creased in a wickedly playful smile.
“No!” I blushed. My face and chest were scalding with so much embarrassed heat that it made me wish for that window to still be open. Awkwardness aside, I was still angry at him and I wasn't about to let this silliness distract me. “Don't change the subject. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to explain. I had to see you.” Maynard's signature mischievous smile wilted into an appeal. He looked me over almost mournfully.
My God. Had he really missed me as much as I missed him?
Maynard opened his mouth to continue, but the footfalls in the hallway silenced both of us. There was a knock on my bedroom door. In a panic, I pointed under the bed and Maynard gracefully dropped and rolled. By the time the door cracked open Maynard was fortunately gone.
“Are you alright, Claire?” My mother asked, groggily wiping the sleep from her eyes. “I heard you scream.”
“So
rry. I was having a nightmare.” Was I really that loud? My father became a lumberjack in his sleep and sawed wood so loudly that my mother had to wear earplugs.
“Is your stomach alright?”
“Yes, I'm just a little stressed out that's all. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm alright now.” I started to close the door but Mom caught it and opened it wider.
“Let's talk for a minute, Honey.” Mom walked into my room and turned on my bedside lamp.
Crap crap crap!
She went to sit down at the head of my bed, dangerously close to my dildo, but I was able to slip by her and sit there first. With Maynard hiding under my bed I couldn't deal with the added stress if she accidentally stumbling across my vibrator too.
What a surreal night.
“I want to apologize for earlier,” Mom said. She took a moment, then continued. This wasn't like Mom. She always made me feel loved, but Dad was the big softy of the two. “Your father and I came off harsher than we meant too. We know that you're going through a very difficult time right now.”
Oh, if she only knew...
“Mom, it's okay.”
“No it's not.” She frowned. “We've always been a little hard on you, but that was only because we knew that we couldn't always be there to protect you. It's a mean world out there, and we wanted you to be tough enough to survive, to thrive even. But,” Mom sighed and placed a hand on my stomach. “You're our only daughter and we want you to know that despite whatever happens we are here for you if you need us.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I didn't expect such emotion from her, and it made me tear up.
“I love you, Honey,” Mom's lips pressed together into a white line and she fought back tears of her own.
“I love you too,” I hugged her tighter than I had in years.
“Okay,” Mom wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up. “You need your rest. We'll talk more in the morning.”
