Then There Was You: New York Times Best Selling Author

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Then There Was You: New York Times Best Selling Author Page 3

by Claire Contreras


  Camryn was always weaseling her way into my life. It wasn’t enough that our parents were lifelong friends and we’d spent the majority of our childhoods and teen years in the same social circle. Nope, she had heard the rumors of my parent’s divorce and how I was next in line to head the company, pulled her claws out of the Wall Street guy she was fucking in New York, and showed up here. It wasn’t by chance. Nothing she did was. I knew it as surly as I knew my mother was happy about it.

  Camryn smiled brighter when I came forward. “You look dashing today.”

  I ignored her compliment and kissed my mother on both cheeks before leaning in to do the same to her. Before I could pull away, she caught my jaw and gave me a peck on the lips. Mom raised her eyebrows as if to say, something you want to tell me? I shook my head and fought not to roll my eyes. She always got that look when Camryn was around, her barely masked approval was enough to make me uncomfortable.

  I glared at my mother, who stifled a smile behind her mimosa.

  Truth be told, Camryn and my mom weren’t that different. I glanced at Camryn.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, I had a long layover on my way to San Fran and decided to make a day of it. I tried calling you, but it was going straight to voicemail. I figured you didn’t have any reception out here in the country.” I rolled my eyes. We were hardly in the country. “Anyway, I had lunch with a few friends and ran into your mom on my way out. Of course, I had to sit and keep her company while she waited for you.”

  “Well, I’m here now.” Her smile dropped.

  “I guess I’ll leave you to discuss your private matters.” She gathered her purse slowly, probably waiting to see if we were going to invite her to stay. Neither of us said a word as she stood and plastered another fake smile on her face. “Well, it was great chatting with you Mildred. I have a flight to catch.”

  “Always a pleasure, Camryn. Have a safe flight. Say hello to your mother.”

  “Of course. I’m sure she’ll want to get together with you when you’re in Paris next month. She’s been missing everyone since moving away last year. I’ll set something up, and maybe we can all grab dinner together.” She smiled at me as she said it. I tore my gaze from her green eyes and looked at Mom.

  “Sure, dear.”

  When she walked away, I felt the lead weight drop off my shoulders.

  “She’s dying for you to give her a chance.”

  “A chance to do what exactly? She manhandles me every opportunity she gets.”

  “And you let her.”

  “It’s harmless.” I shrugged. Sure, she’d caused trouble in the past, but that was then. I wasn’t tied down to anybody now and the moment it came to that I knew how to deal with her.

  “Sweetheart.” Mom placed her hand over mine, beckoning me to meet her gaze. I did. “Women are never harmless. The faster you learn that, the better off you’ll be.”

  I swallowed a mouthful of the mimosa the waiter just served me and tried to wash away the uneasiness her words brought. Mom had ordered a pitcher, and from the looks of it, she was either halfway to an afternoon nap or ready to party.

  “I’ve never given her reason to believe I’d ever be interested in getting serious.” I picked up the menu even though I knew I’d order my go-to steak and potatoes.

  “Only serious enough to spend the night in her bed.” Mom raised an eyebrow.

  “I never spend the night in anyone’s bed.” It was the truth. Camryn and I had hooked up in high school and then again once in college, but it never went beyond that.

  Mom rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her mimosa. “That’s what your dad said about his mistress, and look at how that turned out. I ordered your usual for you, by the way.”

  I put the menu down and met her pained blue eyes. “You can’t compare Dad’s . . . affair to this.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.

  It was so weird to see my mom cry. She’d always shown so little emotion while we were growing up. The news of Dad’s long-running affair with his secretary, a woman who had come to our house almost every day, had gone on family trips with us growing up, and had stopped by on holidays seemed to rip my mom open. Suddenly, she was crying and talking about feelings and asking about ours. I felt awful for her, but the selfish side of me liked this more emotionally available version of her. I just wish it’d come sooner, before her aloofness and Dad’s absence and their combined loveless marriage scarred me irrevocably.

  “Your brother still isn’t answering my phone calls,” she said. “Is he okay?”

  My jaw clenched as I thought about Tessa with Sam.

  “Why do you have that look on your face?” Her question made me blink out of my red haze.

  “Sam’s dating Tessa now. Maybe you should ask her how he’s doing.”

  “Oh.” Mom raised her eyebrows slightly. “They’re good together.” I shot her a glare. She shrugged. “She isn’t good for you, Rowan. She never was. She’s too young and naïve. You don’t need a girl like that in your life.”

  “She’s a woman now, Mom.”

  “Just as well. Anyhow, I was hoping to speak to both of you together before my trip,” she said. “Your father and I are keeping this divorce private until everything is finalized with the company, but I wanted to fill you in on the basics. We’re talking about splitting Hawthorne Fabrics down the middle.”

  My eyes widened. “What? What is there to split? Won’t that cause friction with the accounts we currently have?”

  “It’ll be a quiet split,” she said, shooting me an irritated look. Mom hated interruptions. “It’ll be divided between the States and Europe accounts.”

  “What about South America? Asia?” That earned me another look.

  “I’m getting to that, Rowan.” I swallowed and sat back. Waited. My knee started to bounce underneath the table. “Asia and South America will also be split between both companies. We’re bidding for those.”

  “Bidding? You’re going to get into a bidding war?” Unbelievable. She blinked prettily, the way she often did in front of my father in order to get her way. I ignored it. “Do we have a say in this?”

  “No. Your father and I will discuss it and get back to you. I just want you to understand what’s happening.”

  I pushed out a deep breath, shook my head, and dug into the steak and potatoes the waiter placed in front of me. A part of me hoped she’d say that my brother and I would have to hash it out, leave the decision to us. Maybe if we were forced to work together, we could salvage the friendship we once had, the one where we put each other over everything and everyone.

  When Mom spoke again, it was about family, about marriage and kids, and about building something of my own. I’d heard the story a million times, but listening to it right then made a sick feeling twist in my stomach. My grandparents had opened the textiles company in the basement of their two-bedroom townhouse. The moment my parents were married, they became a project to my grandparents. A way to expand the brand. Eventually, they let Dad run the company and while he’d made good business decisions. He decided to buy out Monte Industries, something I would’ve done given the chance. If Tessa’s father had been business-minded and hadn’t thought of Monte as more of a passion project, they’d be the ones owning us and not the other way around. They’d had the factories and labor workers, the room to grow. They just didn’t act on it. Mr. Monte was always too focused on the creative aspect of the company, not the business side of things.

  The only place I could see that Dad went wrong was not buying out the company from my grandparents. Whether it be because the growth wasn’t as fast as he’d originally intended or he didn’t want to do that to his old man, I’d never know. It would be one of the first things I would do if I ever had a chance though. Sam didn’t care about our inheritance or his role in the company. Whereas, I’d been primed for this from age seven when Dad started taking me to work with him every summer. S
am would go sometimes, but he wasn’t required to the way I was. When he did go, it was for an allowance.

  We weren’t the spoiled rich guys outsiders may have thought we were. We’d been raised to work for our money. We had allowances growing up, had worked for our first cars, and had paid for our own car insurance. Even though we lived in a nice house and went to top-notch schools, we hadn’t been spoiled the way a lot of our friends had been. Nowadays, I was grateful for that. I was also grateful for the work ethic my father had instilled in me. It was probably the one thing I could say I learned from him.

  “I know your hearts aren’t in this—”

  “Samson’s heart isn’t in it, but mine is. Otherwise, why would I even entertain this conversation?”

  “Contracts are important to abide by,” she said. “Marriage being one of them.”

  I blinked. I knew where marriage fit into Hawthorne. I just hadn’t put much thought into it in regard to myself and the company. As far as I was concerned, marriage was a business transaction. On occasion, when Tessa’s limbs were wrapped around mine, I’d had fleeting thoughts about marriage, but I ended our relationship before any of that could be a serious notion. Even if I hadn’t, even if I genuinely believed in the sanctity of those vows, my parents’ divorce would have changed that. Love was an illusion. An idea that society tried to sell to you. I believed in respect and honesty, but love? Love had never been on my radar.

  Chapter Five

  Rowan

  Past

  Dad always woke me up at seven o’clock on Saturday mornings. It was the day we went around and visited our customers. Samson came along sometimes, but not usually. He wasn’t expected to. He had baseball games on Saturdays that Grandpa Pete took him to, games that dad made me stop playing because he needed me to be his sidekick. I’d called myself a sidekick to help me get through the boring days, but really, I was more like an accessory. Even my thirteen-year-old-self knew that. By the time we pulled up to Monte Industries, it was ten in the morning. We’d already gone to three other manufacturing companies before this stop. All three had been the same, husband talking shop with Dad while I sat there silently pretending to pay attention and the wife offered me cookies and milk and finally a juice box. By the time we pulled up at Monte Industries, I’d had three juice boxes and thought if I saw one more cookie I’d puke. I wasn’t much of a sweets kid.

  Mr. Monte smiled as he said hi to Dad and smiled wider when he saw me in tow.

  “Little working man,” he’d said. “I need to put Freddie to work on Saturday mornings.”

  “You gotta start them young,” Dad said with a gleam in his eyes that made me warm inside. Maybe he was proud of me after all. I mean, I did come along while all the other kids my age were obviously sleeping or doing fun things.

  “I heard you’re going to start rowing for the school team soon,” Mr. Monte said. “Will you still have time to come by on Saturdays?”

  “He’ll have to make up his work whenever he’s free,” Dad answered, patting my head. “He’s next in line to take over the company so he needs to learn the ropes.”

  We walked inside and sat in Mr. Monte’s upstairs office, which overlooked the employees downstairs. After ten minutes of listening to them talk about my mom and Mrs. Monte and how important family was in all of this, I tuned them out and looked out the window. Everybody was either sewing, stapling or rolling fabric rolls in plastic to keep it safe. The door opened suddenly and a few people stopped to wave at Tessa, who walked in wearing her ballet outfit – pink tights and a pink leotard. She wore converse sneakers on her feet, but was holding a pink bag that I knew held her pointe shoes. I looked over my shoulder.

  “May I use the restroom?”

  “Of course,” Mr. Monte said. Dad shot me a warning look that made me shiver, but I walked out of the office nonetheless. Dad hated when I interrupted conversations or asked for anything, including the restroom. I ran downstairs and scanned the room for Tessa. I found her sitting in front of the coffee machine in the break room. Her head snapped up when I walked into the room. My heart beat a little faster.

  “Working again?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” I exhaled and sat in the chair across from her. “So boring.”

  “Why doesn’t Sam do it?”

  “Because he’s not expected to. He’s the baby of the family, not the first born.”

  “Hm.” She gave me a sad, but understanding smile, probably because she herself was the baby of her family. “At least you know what you’re going to be when you grow up.”

  “Don’t you?” I waved a hand around.

  “Yeah. Well, I mean, I hope. I’m not the first born.” Her eyes twinkled when she said that. She was the prettiest girl, especially when she smiled like that. “What would you be when you grow up, if you could be anything?”

  I shrugged. “The president of Hawthorne Industries.”

  “That’s it?” She laughed. “That’s what you’re going to do anyway. I mean if you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Same answer.”

  Her eyes searched mine for a long moment, as if she were waiting for me to change my mind. Tessa’s parents encouraged growth and being whatever you wanted to be. I’d been waking up early on Saturdays since I was five years old. Hawthorne Industries was the only thing I knew and the only thing I was expected to do with my life. I fully accepted it. Tessa kept talking about her day. She was dropped off here after ballet because she wanted her dad to take her to the mall to buy presents for her brother and sister. After listening to her for a while, I said goodbye went back upstairs, knowing that if I was gone too long there would be hell to pay later.

  In the car, Dad reprimanded me for taking too long in the bathroom. “It’s not responsible. You need to learn the difference between work and fun.”

  “I do know the difference. That’s why I’m not hanging out with my friends and I’m here instead.”

  That earned me a hard look and a pop on the mouth. “You don’t bleed,” he said. “Remember that. You’re not like those other kids. You have things to do with your time and your life.”

  I held my hand to my lips. He said I couldn’t bleed, but the thick liquid in my mouth said otherwise. I held back the hot, frustrated tears that threatened to spill out of my eyes, knowing that would only earn me more than just a pop in the mouth. Crying was a sign of weakness. I’d learned that from watching Mom trying to buy his affection through tears. The only thing it did was ensue a screaming fit from him that included name calling and belittling. Just the other night during dinner, Sam brought up a bad grade, and Dad yelled and told him he was stupid and stupidity didn’t belong in this family. I’d held my brother’s hand under the table to let him know I was with him no matter what, but I didn’t stand up for him. That was three nights ago and I was still kicking myself for not standing up to my father. He made it difficult, though. He was quick to remind us how insignificant we were and I didn’t want that reminder. Not when I felt it every night when I was in my room trying to find sleep and my parents screamed about what a mistake we were.

  Chapter Six

  Tessa

  I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of pine that surrounded me. It may have reminded the rest of the world of Christmas, but for me, it was the smell of home. I opened my eyes and let out a deep, cleansing breath before continuing toward the red canoe. I pushed it away from the dock and climbed in just as the tip glided into the water, picking up the paddle and making my way to my favorite relaxing spot. I went slowly, enjoying the way the paddle felt as it sliced through the still water. When I finally reached the little bank in the middle of the lake, I pulled the paddle in, made sure it was secure, and laid back to let my muscles relax.

  I used to go much farther than this without complaints from my shoulders, which told me I was definitely not in shape like I used to be. It didn’t help that I paddled by myself. Usually, Freddie or Celia helped. Then again, usually, canoes and jet skis filled the lake, and ou
t farther, sailboats dotted against the skyline. I guess that was what happened when everyone in the neighborhood grew up together. They got older and started their lives and left at the same time.

  I kept my eyes closed and tried to force my brain to think about something else, something positive, but it was no use. Being back only brought on old memories. Not that they were all bad. I’d had a pretty damn good home life before Dad decided to sell to Hawthorne. Still, I had great friends, most of who had graduated college and gone onto grad school or were getting married. Even my memories of Rowan made me smile most days. I thought about what Sam said to me yesterday. Maybe I could be friends with him again, who knows? My canoe rocked lightly, and my eyes popped open. I gripped both sides and sat up quickly, twisting to see who was out here. It could be the people in charge of cleaning up the water, though, judging from how clean it was, I’d bet money they had already done it. I brought my hand up to shield the sun from my face and squinted in the direction of a bright blue canoe. My heart sped up.

  From where I sat, I couldn’t tell if it was Sam or Rowan, but I would know that canoe anywhere. Unlike mine, theirs was a professional vessel. A single scull, Rowan had once told me. That was the official term for it. The kind they used in the Olympics. The kind that took me more than a handful of tries to get a handle on but Rowan maneuvered as if it were his own skin. He called it Miles. Miles was blue and shiny and made you not want to look away from it once it rowed past you, much like his owner. Rowan had been on the crew team in high school and college. I’d woken up more than enough times at four a.m. and accompanied him to tournaments. Heck, even after we’d gone our separate ways, I’d heard that he’d gotten Columbia more than a few trophies as captain. I wasn’t surprised one bit.

 

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