The Beard (Haylee Thorne)

by Haylee Thorne

  A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t hear you come down. I was taking stock when the door shut behind me,” an attractive, young woman says apologetically.

  We both turn at the sound of her voice.

  She flips a light switch, and the hall is now fully lit. Ashton clears his throat and starts walking toward the woman. I follow them into what turns out to be the wine cellar. This room is what I imagined a wine tasting room would look like. The walls and floors are stone, and are graced with rack after rack of wine bottles. It is also clear that the temperature down here is controlled to the last degree. The room is parted by floor-to-ceiling glass doors that open to a smaller area with a mini bar and some stools. The woman introduces herself as Viviane Reyes—yup, even her name sounds sexy—and apologizes once more. We are seated at the little bar and go through the same explanation as the previous winery, only this time, I am not as invested. I loosely listen as I try to banish the trail of kisses from my mind. I know he was just trying to comfort me and that this attraction I feel is one-sided and beyond inappropriate.

  I try to act like nothing has happened, but I am still shaken up from the incident just moments ago. I go through the motions of the tasting but I don’t even bother using the spittoon. Ashton, however, is hanging on her every word and is showering her with praise on her knowledge. I watch and cringe as he lays it on thick with this woman. She’s attractive with curly, long brown hair flowing freely down her shoulders, pouty full lips, and big green eyes. She has that perfect button nose women pay to have, and even though she is wearing full-on makeup, you can tell she doesn’t need it. With every sip I take, I get a little more annoyed. We get through the white wines and are knee-deep into the bold reds when I start to really feel it. When I start to make snide comments inside my head about her looks, I realize I am jealous. What the hell? I excuse myself and leave the room, intending to find the ladies’ room but instead, in my alcohol induced state, decide to head upstairs and out to the car. I climb in, pull out my cell, and text Amber to meet me at my apartment later. It takes about twenty minutes for Ashton to follow me.

  “Hey, what happened to you? I was worried when you didn’t come back.”

  “I was trying to give you some privacy,” I say, inwardly cringing at my sullen tone.

  “Privacy? I thought we were here to taste wine for your restaurant. What are you talking about?”

  He rakes a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. But right now, I don’t care. All I want to do now is go home. I feel humiliated, and I feel dumb. Mostly, I feel like a traitor. I know Brock and I are not in love, but we have an agreement. He’s kept up his end of the bargain, and I almost destroyed both our dreams because of lust. I am thoroughly disgusted with myself, as well as disappointed. After everything that happened with Chris, didn’t I learn my lesson? No more men.

  “I’m just not feeling well. I’d like to go home now,” I tell him.

  I avoid his eyes on purpose and cross my arms like a petulant child. He slides into the car beside me. He’s so close, which is simultaneously the first and last place I need him to be right now.

  “Mac?”

  I sigh and let my head fall back, eyes closed tight.

  “I thought we were having a good time. What happened?”

  Did he forget about my irrational freak-out?

  “I really don’t feel good and just want to go home. Can we go now? Please?”

  I’m still refusing to look at him, partly because I’m angry, but mostly because I am embarrassed.

  “Okay, let’s go home,” he murmurs.

  Ashton instructs the driver to head back to the city, and I pretend to be asleep the entire ride home. I don’t know if he knows I am faking, but if he does, he doesn’t push the issue. He gently nudges me when we pull up to my apartment building, exiting the vehicle first so he can assist me when getting out. He guides me to a standing position from the vehicle and doesn’t take his eyes off mine. It’s like we are stuck, unable to pull away. I’m not sure how long we stand here in silence, but it feels like forever. His irises, a mixture of copper and honey, imprison me and demand my complete attention.

  “Are you okay, Mac?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

  I am not entirely sure how I feel right now, but I nod.

  “Are we okay?”

  I swallow hard. “Yes,” I croak.

  “Okay then,” he says as he nods his head.

  “Okay then,” I whisper.

  He leans in, and his lips brush my cheek ever so slightly. I’m not sure, but I swear I can hear him inhaling my scent.

  “Goodnight, Mac.”

  “Goodnight, Ashton.”

  He leans his temple against mine, just for a moment, and then gets into the car. I stand and watch the car round the corner before I turn to head into my building. Amber is standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

  “Mackenzie Ellie Hart, What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”

  ASHTON

  I can’t believe what a self-absorbed ass I’ve been. I watch her perfect face as she peacefully sleeps. We’ve been in the car for almost two hours now, and I have spent the entire time punishing myself. I can’t explain how badly I wanted to steal that moment in the dark hallway, how desperately I wanted to steal that kiss. It felt like I needed that kiss more than I needed to take my next breath. Not a single thing mattered more to me in that moment. I know that if that girl hadn’t opened the door when she did, I would have claimed her lips, and I couldn’t have taken that back. I have to do better, and I know that means I have to avoid spending time alone with Mackenzie. This is the last time I’ll be alone with her, I promise myself.

  Time is almost up. We are close to her building, and strangely, I am simultaneously relieved and disappointed. I gently nudge her in an attempt to wake her, and her eyes flutter open. I get out of the car and hold my hand out for her. She looks at it for a beat before she takes it. Is she mad at me? The thought of it—her being mad at me—is like a kick in the balls. Maybe she still isn’t feeling well? I ask her if she’s okay, and when she doesn’t answer me, I try to find the answer in her eyes. Our gazes are fixed on each other, and the feeling that crept over me while we stood in that pitch-black hallway is starting to come back to me; I know I have to keep it at bay. Finally, she nods her head. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself from asking my next question.

  “Are we okay?”

  My eyes silently plead with her, and I hold my breath as I wait for her to answer.

  “Yes,” she breathes.

  I release my breath and relief envelops me. The desire to kiss her is overwhelming, and I fight it with everything I have. I know now what I have to do, and I hate it. I lean in and allow myself to give her a small kiss on the cheek. Because I know this will be the last time, I inhale deeply and take in her scent, willing myself to commit it to memory, as it’ll be all I’ll have left. I tell her goodnight, and she whispers goodnight back to me. I lean my temple against hers for a moment, needing the contact, even if it’s just for a second. With great difficulty, I pull myself away and walk to the waiting car. I can’t bring myself to look back at her because I fear that if I do, I won’t be able to do what I need to do.

  It’s the third Friday of the month, which means family dinner. You have to be on your deathbed if you want to be forgiven for missing it, but if I’m being completely honest, I am not entirely sure Gigi wouldn’t just move the party to my deathbed if that was the case. Family dinner is tradition, and Gigi is big on three things: Jesus, family, and traditions; in that order—her words, not mine. Usually, I look forward to these dinners, even if it does involve a long two-hour drive to my grandparents’ house in the Hamptons. Tonight is different because I know that she will be there.

  A veil of dusk is spreading before me as I pull into the driveway. Usually, Brock and I drive up together, but since I am not sure if I can spend two hours with the two of them in a car without wanting to
fling myself—or maybe my brother—out of said car, I claimed I need to leave early for work and opted to drive myself. The drive up was very productive, and I spent the majority of it on the phone. In today’s day and age, even during a long drive, business can be done. Plus, it was a welcome distraction from my thoughts. When I open the front door to step into the house, I nearly get tackled by Gigi, which causes me to almost drop the vase of flowers I have in my hands.

  “There he is, one of my favorite grandsons.”

  I dramatically search the hallway and then lean in.

  “There is nobody here, Gigi. You can admit that I’m your favorite,” I say with a wink.

  She throws her head back and laughs.

  “You are terrible,” she says. “You are both equally my favorite.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll change your mind after this,” I tell her as I hand her the flowers I’ve brought her. Her face lights up.

  “These are beautiful. Always such a thoughtful boy,” she says, as she kisses my cheek.

  “Got to bring flowers to my favorite girl,” I tell her, flashing her a smile.

  “Always the charmer,” she says with a chuckle. “Everyone is outside. It’s beautiful out, so I thought we would have dinner out on the deck tonight.”

  I need a moment to collect myself before I can deal with watching my brother all happy and in love with the woman I can’t get out of my head.

  “I’ll be right there. I’m going to grab a drink. It was a long drive,” I tell her.

  “Okay, dear. I’ll go put give these beautiful flowers in a prime spot.”

  I walk to the kitchen to grab a bottled water, and as soon as I step over the threshold, I want to walk back out. Mackenzie’s back is facing me as she rummages through the fridge. She is wearing a crisp white dress, and when my eyes roam over her, I can’t help but notice the red heels she has paired it with. She looks incredible, and I haven’t even seen the front. My chest constricts, and just as I get ready to turn around and make my escape, she closes the door. She spins around, fast as lightning, as if she felt my presence. A huge smile appears on her face, and I love and hate that smile. That smile that lights up my world when it shouldn’t.

  “Hi,” she rasps.

  I quickly scan the room, and see it’s just the two of us. Alarm bells are blaring loudly inside my head. I can’t be alone with her, not when my resolve is already weakening at the mere sight of her, so I do the only thing I can think of; I give her a quick nod of my head before swiftly turning and making my escape. I walk out so quickly that I nearly crash into my brother in the hallway.

  “Hey, where is the fire?” he jokes.

  I smile half-heartedly and mumble some lame excuse as I brush past him to join my grandparents outside. When I get out here, I head over to help Pops, who is attempting to light up the fire pit. I see Brock and Mackenzie walk onto the deck from the corner of my eye. In a desperate attempt to prolong the separation between us, I ask Pops to tell me about his newest prize possession: a 1967 Chevrolet Corvette L88. I have zero interest in cars, let alone classic ones, but here I am hanging on to his every word. I knew that once I got him talking about his beloved muscle cars, I would be occupied for a while. I clearly called it because next, he takes me to the garage to admire his new “baby.” It’s about half an hour before we head back outside and return to our task of lighting up the fire pit. By the time we have the fire going, we are being summoned to the table. After a quick stop to the bathroom to wash up, we take our seats at the table where Pops leads us in prayer before we dig in. I mostly ensure that I have a bite full of food in my mouth every time Brock or Mac say anything to me, which provides me with an excellent excuse to not answer. Besides, Brock and Mackenzie have apparently agreed to have their wedding right here. Gigi is over the moon, and the entire meal is largely spent with wedding talk. By the time we are enjoying dessert, Pops clears his throat. “We wanted to discuss something with you boys.” he says as he rises to his feet. “As you both know, I am ready to retire. I have worked hard my whole life, and I feel like it is time now for me to take a step back and start to enjoy life a little. I have built this company from the ground up, and I am so proud of what it has become today.”

  Is this it? Is he choosing the next CEO? I think to myself. My eyes dart over to Brock at the exact time his dart over to mine. I think neither of us were expecting this to happen tonight. I refocus my attention back to Pops.

  “While I know that the company is successful in large part because of the hard work you boys have been putting into it, I could have never gotten anywhere without having the support of the most amazing woman I have ever met,” he says as he glances lovingly at Gigi.

  In the distance, I can hear a faint rumbling in the sky, and I start to get a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I am pretty sure that I won’t like where this is going. I watch as Brock grabs Mackenzie’s hand and squeezes it, and I hate it.

  “We have discussed what needs to happen next. The two of you have not only been equally pulling your own weight, but you’ve been consistently blowing my expectations out of the water. The decision of who to pick to take over as CEO of Walker Inc. has been damn near impossible.”

  Gigi walks over to Pops and takes his hand. He lifts their intertwined hands to his mouth and kisses it.

  “We think the both of you are deserving, but only one of you is really ready to take on this kind of responsibility. I know from personal experience that a man needs the support of a phenomenal woman to succeed in life and in business, and we feel that Brock has found her.”

  I feel like I have just been punched in the chest.

  “Congratulations, Brock. I will be grooming you to be the next CEO of Walker Inc.”

  The floor beneath me disappears, and my throat starts to close up. Are you fucking kidding me? He’s getting married to the woman I love and gets everything I have ever worked for in one foul swoop? I stand here, stunned and frozen for a short moment, and then the anger takes over. This isn’t fucking fair. I have worked my ass off for this my whole life. Brock didn’t even start caring about Walker Inc. until after we graduated college. I have been working for this company since I was seventeen years old; I sacrificed every summer until I was out of school. Now Brock finds himself a wife and he beats me for the CEO spot? Fuck that. My eyes dart toward Brock. The expression on his face is one of elation—pure fucking joy. And that pisses me off even more. I still haven’t spoken or reacted, and all I want is to get out of here. I place my napkin on the table and rise to my feet. I turn to face my brother.

  “Congratulations,” I say, surprising myself with the eerie calmness in my voice. “Consider this my resignation.”

  Brock’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something.

  “Don’t,” I warn.

  I clench my fists as I try to reign in my temper.

  “Stop acting like a petulant child, Ash. You always were a sore loser.”

  And that is the last drop that breaks the dam. I’m on autopilot, and it is like I am watching myself as I punch my brother in the face. He goes down, and I don’t even care at this moment. Punching him felt good. My eyes dart over to Mackenzie, who is looking on open-mouthed, clearly shocked. I can’t stay here another second, so I start walking toward the house. Gigi calls after me, but I ignore it, accelerating my stride. I feel like I am suffocating and tug at my tie, ripping it off before carelessly flinging it on the floor as I continue my exit. I have tunnel vision as I make my way to the driveway. The moment I step foot out the door, the sky opens up—it seems fitting—and I feel as if the universe is mourning my loss with me. I step into the rain, embracing the cold wetness.

  “Ashton, wait.”

  I involuntarily stop walking when she calls after me.

  Damn it.

  I turn around and watch her stride toward me, seemingly not caring at all that she is getting soaked. Plus, she is surprisingly fast in those heels.

  “What the hell, Ashton?�
�

  Of course, she is taking up for him, I think bitterly. Another punch to the gut.

  “Why are you acting this way? It’s just a title. Don’t throw away everything you have worked for.”

  She is right, of course, and I realize in this moment that it’s not the title of CEO that has me this bent out of shape.

  “He has the one thing I have ever wanted,” I tell her. “And I am not going to stay around and torture myself.”

  I turn and start to walk toward my car.

  “Go inside, Mac.”

  “It is just a job, Ashton.”

  I abruptly stop and pivot so I face her. Even soaked, she is the most stunning creature I have ever seen. Our eyes lock, as she is searching mine for some kind of understanding.

  “It’s not the fucking title, Mac.”

  “Then why are you acting like this?” she demands, clearly perturbed.

  “Like what?”

  “Like an…like an asshole.”

  A tortured laugh escapes from my throat.

  “Do you really not know why I am acting like a complete asshole, Mac?”

  Her face contorts in confusion.

  “How can you be this blind, Mackenzie?”

  “Seriously, Ashton. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  I’m not sure what comes over me, but I step toward her, take her face in my hands, and plunge my lips onto hers. I pour everything into this kiss. Every thought, every pent-up desire, every single thing I have been feeling. I am inwardly willing her to understand. She gasps, and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, desperate to taste her. She is intoxicating. Her lips are soft, full, and perfect, just as I imagined they would be. I pull back and look at her. Her eyes are wide with surprise. Fuck. What did I just let myself do? I drop my forehead against hers and sigh.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  I am not sure how long the kiss lasted. It could have been seconds, minutes—hell, it could have been hours. It wasn’t long enough. It will never be enough with her. I know that. I can feel it with every fiber of my being. I release my hold on her, and my gaze is pulled to Brock, who’s standing by the front door that’s wide open. He doesn’t move. My head snaps to Mackenzie, who looks horrified, and back to my brother, who has a murderous look on his face. Shit, I can’t blame either of them. I shove a hand through my hair, trying to get my thoughts together. There is nothing to say right now, nothing that will make any of us feel any better. I know I need to walk away, but I feel compelled to leave her with one truth. I turn to Mackenzie.