by Katie Ashley
After Thorn’s unprecedented innuendo, an uncomfortable silence permeated the air. “So,” I began.
“So,” Thorn echoed.
“Should we address the elephant in the room?”
A panicked look flashed in Thorn’s eyes. “Is it about what I just said?”
“No. I’m talking about what happened earlier in the sleeping room.”
Relief momentarily flickered in his expression, but then his jaw tightened. “I would prefer to get at least one shot of Jack down,” he replied with a tight smile.
“Okay, that’s reasonable.”
He cocked his brows at me. “You’re not going to press me to do it now?”
“No. I’m sure you’ll talk about it when you’re ready, and if you don’t, you don’t. That’s your business.”
“Interesting perspective.”
“I guess I can assume it’s not one you hear often.”
He gave an angry shake of his head. “Everyone keeps pressing me to talk about what I went through, as if running my mouth will make things any easier.”
“My grandfather was in Vietnam, and he never liked to talk about it to anyone but my grandmother. I think she was the only one he really trusted except for his war buddies.”
“That’s understandable. There’s an inexplicable bond between the men you serve with.” He shifted in the booth. “I do want to say how sorry I am for what happened. I know I scared you.”
“I won’t lie and say you didn’t shake me up pretty bad.”
Anguish burned in his eyes. “And I’m so very sorry for that.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “I never imagined I would react that way to someone waking me up. I haven’t exactly woken up with anyone lately to test the waters.”
Even though it shouldn’t have, my mind immediately homed in on the fact that he wasn’t waking up with anyone. Did that mean he wasn’t sleeping with anyone? I couldn’t imagine an impossibly good-looking guy like Thorn would go without sex for any period of time. The truth was he probably was a banger and booker, i.e. he got off and got out. I’d seen it numerous times, and I’d experienced it once or twice myself. It would make sense since his younger brother was a notorious womanizer—at least he had been until his recent engagement.
“Well, in some small way, I’m glad it happened with me. Now you can inform the next woman what might possibly transpire.”
At my reference to sex, Thorn’s lips quirked. “Now that’s a hell of a turnoff. I’m sure after sharing that little tidbit, she’ll be lulled into a peaceful sleep.”
“Maybe the wrong woman would be turned off, but I’m sure anyone who had a heart and cared about you wouldn’t.”
“What about you?”
“Excuse me?”
“If a guy you were dating told you he might happen to attack you if you startled him awake, would you want to stick around?”
“I’d have to be a pretty cold-hearted bitch to leave. I mean, no one is exempt from bringing baggage into a relationship. Some people just have bigger or less attractive baggage.”
Thorn stared intently at me for a moment. “I guess you’re right.”
Right then, the waiter returned with our drinks and the cheese fries. After we gave him our food orders, Thorn picked up the Jack and downed a long gulp. Following his lead, I took a pretty big sip of my vodka orange, which caused me to shudder.
“Is it not good?” he questioned.
I grinned. “It’s too good. I think it’s predominately vodka.”
Thorn smiled. “Might as well go big or go home, right?”
“I’ll drink to that.”
I never intended to get drunk with Thorn. Let me rephrase that: I never intended to get drunk with my boss, but it happened. Somehow between me not eating lunch, the cheese fries, and two and a half vodka oranges, I got a little tipsy, and tipsy Isabel tends to run her mouth, which is exactly what happened.
Chapter Fourteen: Thorn
It was pretty fucking surreal to be sitting across the booth from Isabel. As fucked up as our relationship had been so far, it seemed like we were experiencing the impossible: two relaxed people enjoying each other’s company. Of course, it was a hard-earned relaxation after what had transpired in the sleeping room.
I couldn’t help basking a little in Isabel’s concern for me. Considering how she usually looked at me—namely, with loathing and disgust—it was a welcome change. Of course, I had brought all of that on myself. In the spirit of the true transparency of our current conversation, I knew it was time to be honest with her.
After we toasted each other with our drinks, I smiled at Isabel. “I really appreciate you offering to buy me a drink. It was very kind of you considering everything that has transpired between us.”
Isabel swallowed the cheese fry she’d been munching on. “There’s no need to thank me. Being there for people is just part of who I am.”
“In the last few months, I guess we haven’t really gotten to know each other, have we?” I asked.
Isabel’s lips quirked. “I’d have to say I’ve become well versed with your asshole side.”
“Touché.” I took another swig of Jack. Half the fun I’d had was because of how she reacted to my assholery, her fire and fury, but I thought it would be better not to share that. Still, right then, right there, I wanted her to know that wasn’t really me—not completely. “Would it surprise you to know I’m not normally an asshole?”
“No. It wouldn’t.”
I widened my eyes in surprise. “Seriously? And why is that?”
“I Googled you.” She Googled me?
“And Google told you I wasn’t an asshole? That must’ve been a hell of a powerful search.”
Isabel laughed. “While it didn’t come right out and say it, I found evidence that didn’t support your complete and total assholery.”
“Since I’ve never Googled myself, I can’t imagine what you unearthed to disprove your theory.”
“You’ve spent the bulk of your adult life giving back to your country. During the times when you weren’t deployed, you worked with charities that served veterans’ causes, and while you were away, you still managed to raise money.” She cocked her head at me. “Considering your military background, that didn’t surprise me too much. I have to say I was very impressed to see the work you did with the at-risk children of deployed servicemen.”
“But those could have just been a ruse to paint me in a better light. The privileged always have to have good works to make themselves look better,” I argued.
“Normally, I would agree with you. However, in your case, it wasn’t for show. You gave your time to charities where you literally got your hands dirty, like building houses for homeless vets and their families.” She paused to down a pretty hefty gulp of her vodka orange. “In spite of all your jerky ways, you really do have a good heart.”
Fuck me. It was amazing hearing the adoration for me resonate in Isabel’s voice. It was certainly a change of pace from the usual disgust and annoyance. “So I have a good heart except when it comes to you?”
Isabel shook her head. “I wouldn’t say just to me. Most of your team members at Callahan have felt the sting of your assholery from time to time, although it does seem you’ve graced me with the brunt of it.”
“That’s because I’ve been a dick who took out his frustrations on everyone else.”
“After I Googled you, that’s the conclusion I came to.”
I chuckled. “Ah, so you’ve got me figured out, huh?”
“It took some time, but I think so. If you had taken any other job but mine, I would’ve had overwhelming empathy for you.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Well, if you hadn’t continued being a giant asshole to me.”
“I would say that’s a fair summation. “
“You really have been through a lot, Thorn. I mean, you had to leave the only professional world you’ve ever known not of your own volition, not to mention being injured recently.
” She exhaled a ragged breath. “I can’t imagine how agonizing that must’ve been.”
Wow. Isabel really got me. It spoke to the content of her character that she could somewhat overlook the way I’d treated her to still feel empathy for me. In that moment, I knew more than ever that I had to come clean with her.
“While I’ve been taking out my frustrations on others, the truth is I’ve been going out of my way to be even more of a bastard toward you.”
Her brows popped in surprise. “You have?”
“Yes, I have.”
“But why would you do that?”
There it was, the moment of truth. Was I really going to come clean? What would happen once I let down my carefully constructed façade? “That first day after our somewhat unorthodox meeting, I found myself…” I swallowed hard. “Attracted to you.”
“You’re joking.”
With a nervous chuckle, I replied, “No, I’m not.” I stared intently at her. “In fact, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d seen in a long, long time.”
Isabel blinked at me. “Oh wow.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I teased, “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought when I saw you.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to explain things to you.”
“You needed to explain that I was beautiful?” she questioned almost shyly.
“No, but that fact set a course for everything else that’s happened.”
Her brows knitted in confusion. “I don’t think I follow.”
“Considering the current climate in the workplace being what it is, I feared that somehow my attraction to you might be perceived as unwelcome, or might even be considered harassment. I decided the best way to cover my tracks was to treat you like crap. I figured if you hated me, you wouldn’t possibly think I was interested in you.”
Isabel’s mouth formed a perfect O of surprise. “I can’t believe it,” she finally murmured after an uncomfortable silence hung around us.
The awkward moment was broken by the waiter appearing with our food. After we both ordered another ill-advised drink, we were once again left alone.
“Look, Isabel, I’m sorry if I’ve shocked you. I just felt I should clear the air after what happened earlier.” When she didn’t respond, I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I reached for my glass, downed the rest of it, and hoped like hell the waiter would return soon with my drink.
Isabel leaned on the table with her elbows. “I want to make sure I have this correct: for the last two months, you’ve been an unimaginable bastard to me because you liked me?”
“Well, it wasn’t so much that I liked you. It was more that I didn’t want you to realize I was attracted to you.”
“This isn’t elementary school, Thorn—you didn’t have to be a dick to show you liked me.”
I held up my hand. “Okay, once again, I feel I need to clarify: attraction is different than liking someone. Yeah, it’s usually a necessary first step on the path to liking someone, but in this case, we’re just talking about attraction.”
“Wait, does that mean you don’t like me?” she asked teasingly.
Jesus, this woman was frustrating. “From what I see of you as a person and fellow employee, yes, I do like you. When we met that first day…well, you’re gorgeous.” When Isabel appeared once again taken aback by my compliment, I jabbed my knife and fork into my steak. “Come on, you have to be aware of how the male population views you.”
“Yes and no, but from you, of all people…” Me? Of all people? “Let’s be honest here—your actions didn’t make me believe you were interested in me at all.”
“Which was just an act.”
“Well you’re a damn good actor.” So it appears.
“Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve ever dealt with a man not falling all over himself when you’re around.”
She sighed. “Hardly. Considering my past with men, I disagree.”
After chewing on my bite of steak, I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about her past with other men, but what the fuck was wrong with them if they didn’t treat her like a queen? “Apparently, you’ve been interacting with boys and not men.”
A shy smile curved on her lips. “Maybe, though at the end of the day, I’m not totally blameless. I’ve been impossibly driven from the time I entered middle school. I knew I wasn’t going to make it out of my hometown if I got distracted by guys.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak about your home.”
“It’s thirty minutes north of Atlanta in Dawsonville.”
While I already knew where she was from, I wanted to know more about it. “Small town?”
“Pretty much. Lots of rural parts, which is where I grew up.” She pushed her salad around with her fork. “My dad dropped out of high school at sixteen, and my mom got pregnant with me right out of high school. We lived in this dinky metal trailer until I was in middle school when we traded up for a double-wide. I didn’t shop at the mall like other kids—we bought at GoodWill or Wal-Mart, not to mention we were on free lunches all through elementary school.”
“I know a lot of men and women who came from towns and situations like yours.” I gave her a pointed look. “They were just as good, if not better than the others when it came to doing their jobs. Money and prestige doesn’t make someone a better person. In fact, many times it ruins them.”
“I guess you’re right. In my case, it just gave me a drive to overcome so I’d never have to worry about how I was going to pay the bills or feed my family.”
“It certainly is an interesting path to investment banking.”
She laughed. “Maybe it’s some deep-seated desire from growing up poor to control money, to be able to dole it out or withhold it.”
“Is that what it is?”
With a shake of her head, she replied, “Because I was good in math, I knew I wanted to do something in finance. It was more like the pieces started falling into place once I was in undergrad.” She jerked her chin at me. “What about you? Did you always want to be a soldier?”
“Yes. From the time I was a kid, I wanted to be just like my dad. I used to parade around in his old dress greens.”
“Did you follow in his footsteps with the family business?”
“Yes, in a way. He never pressured me to do something in finance. It was just something I’d grown up with, so it made sense, but in the back of my mind, I always knew it was just the fallback career. To be an officer, I needed a degree, so I chose finance.”
“It doesn’t sound like it’s something that makes you happy.”
I sighed. “It really isn’t. I mean, there have been times I’ve been happy to be in the office, but overall, it’s not something I really see myself staying in.”
“Why should you stay in a career you don’t like? There’s got to be something within your father’s administration that you could do—something that would feed your soul.”
“You aren’t trying to get rid of me, are you Flannery?”
A flush entered her cheeks. “At one time, I would have said yes.” She reached across the table to lay her hand on my forearm. For a moment, she seemed almost shy, timid. “But after experiencing what I did with you tonight, it’s not about me. It’s about you finding your place in the world.”
Fuck. We’re sitting on opposite sides of this booth, yet just a touch on my arm has me turned on. It wasn’t just her touch, though; it was her empathy. She got me. My place in the world had been snatched away from me. Sitting in an office making banal decisions about big corporations’ finances wasn’t me.
Fuck me. How was it possible I hadn’t even contemplated anything outside of the Callahan Corporation? It was like I’d had blinders on thinking it was the only thing available for me. I hadn’t even thought of pursing a job within Dad’s administration. There had to be a place for me somewhere within veterans af
fairs. Sure, I’d be taking advantage of nepotism once again, but I was a hell of a lot more qualified to be involved with the military than investment banking, not to mention my heart would truly be in it.
“You know what? I think you’re really onto something.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”
“As my dad would say, sometimes we can’t see the shit until we step in it.”
I barked out a laugh at her unexpected comment. “That’s very deep. Your dad sounds like a very wise man.”
She grinned. “I like to think so.”
“Over the years, I’ve stepped in a lot of shit—both literally and figuratively.”
The amused look in her eyes faded. “Is that sort of what happened with the roadside bomb?”
“Ah, I see you came across that when you Googled me.”
When she nodded, I shifted in my seat. It wasn’t any easier to hear it from her lips rather than speaking it myself. In an instant, my mind slammed me back in time to the Humvee on the highway outside Kabul, to that moment when everything changed in an instant, when seconds meant the difference between life and death.
The sound of the explosion rang in my ears, the agonized screams and panicked shouts of those around me, the searing pain of the shrapnel as it tore into my skin. “I lost two of my men,” I croaked absently.
“Yes,” she murmured softly.
“I’m sure you only read their names and ages. Maybe their hometowns were listed.” I winced as I ran my hand over my face. “The media singled me out because at the time, I was the son of a senator who was running for president. Yeah, I was an officer, but what the hell did that really matter? It’s not like a bomb has any respect for rank. They were great guys. Carlos had a voice that could’ve won American Idol, which was good since he was always singing. Perry was just two months shy of going home. He was planning on proposing to his girlfriend.”
When I looked back at Isabel, there were tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
