by Tribue,Alice
“Yes, and a man like that wouldn’t do that for just any girl. He’d only do that for a girl he loved. So maybe you should tell him how you feel.”
“I can’t.”
“Riley.”
“He’s going to leave no matter what, but if I tell him I love him, and he leaves anyway, it’ll be worse.”
“So ask him to stay.” She says it as if it were so easy. I love him, and I want him to stay, but he is leaving. He is leaving, and it’s a fact that resonates with me. It’s always on my mind, all I can see. He is leaving, and I spend every second of my time wishing that he wasn’t.
“No. He has a home, and it’s not here, not with me. I’m just someone he likes to spend time with.”
“He loves you, sweetheart. I promise you he does.”
“You can’t possibly know that from a framed picture in an office. You can’t possibly know that to be true.”
“Riley …”
“He’s not mine,” I say, unable to hide the sadness in my voice. “And I don’t think he ever will be.” I close my eyes in order to keep a fresh set of tears from falling, and when I finally open them, I look down and realize that Mama’s grabbed my hand. “He’s going to break me, Mama … when he leaves. He’s going to shatter me, and the saddest thing of it is that he won’t even know it.”
“Tell him.”
“Promise me you won’t quit your job. Please, I won’t be able to live with myself if you quit. I know how much you love it.”
I know she can’t stand to see me hurt or sad, and I use that to get what I want from her. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t let all of this have been for nothing. I can’t deal with the inevitable loss and pain I’m going to feel if I know that it was all done in vain.
“All right. Fine,” she answers, but I know she doesn’t like it. “I’ll keep the job, but you need to think long and hard about if pride and fear are worth losing someone you love.”
She gives my hand a squeeze before releasing it and walking away. All these months, I’ve been spending my time with Oliver, and I’ve been falling in love with him. I guess I got pretty good at denying it, at sweeping my feelings under the rug, but I’ve spoken the words into existence now. It feels real, all of a sudden, and it’s stifling. Love should be the thing that makes me happy, but with Oliver, it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for him to finish his job and leave me behind.
Walking into the bathroom, I stare at the reflection in the mirror, and I can almost see it. That fear lying just beneath the surface, that fear of being left behind. It’s a familiar feeling, a lot like how it was when my daddy died. Carefully, I fix the small mascara smudges left behind from crying earlier. After a few minutes, there are no signs of a breakdown; all traces of the chink in my armor are gone. I can pretend that I have it all together, and no one would ever look at me and suspect that I’m a little bit broken. Once I’m satisfied that I look presentable again, I grab my things and drive to the hotel to meet Oliver.
***
“You told her?” This comes from Oliver after I tell him that my mama knows about us. He was already here by the time I arrived, and more than anything, I just wanted to forget what I was feeling—just for a little while. He must have not had the best day either because the minute I walked in the door, he was on me. My arms pinned up against the wall as he kissed me recklessly. All rational thoughts evaporated as he picked me up and carried me to the bed, as he slipped inside me agonizingly slow.
Oliver’s good at it, making me forget, drowning out the parts of me that make me sad, that make me worry and overthink things. He levels me with a touch of his hand, a kiss, the way he makes love to me, even if I’m the only one truly making love.
“I thought you didn’t want her to know,” he asks, running a hand up and down my back. “She’s not quitting, is she? The staff actually loves her.”
“I convinced her not to quit,” I tell him; my eyes flutter closed as my body relaxes into him. “She knew. I didn’t tell her.”
He stops rubbing my back, and I let out an unhappy sigh.
“How could she possibly know? If you didn’t tell her and I didn’t tell her, then how?”
“She told me that she went to see you today.”
“Yes, she brought something to my attention that I’m taking care of.”
“She said that while she was in your office, she noticed that you had a picture of me on your desk.”
“Shit. That must be why she looked as if though she’d seen a ghost before she left,” he says, and then, out of the blue, he begins to chuckle.
“Why are you laughing?” I ask, but he just keeps laughing. His body shakes with it, and I have no choice but to move away and sit up in bed.
“You’re laughing because you have a picture of me in your office?”
“No, baby,” he says grabbing hold of my neck and pulling me back down to him. “I’m not laughing at the fact that there’s a picture of you in my office. A picture I like to look at often, by the way.” He kisses my forehead. “I’m just laughing at the completely ironic way that she found out about us.”
“Hysterical,” I say dryly.
“Oh, come on. Did she give you a hard time?”
“Yes.”
“Wait, you didn’t tell her everything, did you?”
“What? You mean did I tell her that you and I started out with you blackmailing me?”
“Riley.” He says my name softly, laced with regret. I feel bad for having said it now, for making light of a situation I know he still feels badly about.
“I didn’t tell her. I said you gave her the job as a favor to me, which didn’t go over well, either, but she’s okay with it now.”
“You know I wish I could take it back, right? If I could change the way you and I came to be, I would. I was a bastard to you, and I honestly don’t know why you’re still here at times.”
“You really don’t know?”
“What I know is that you’re too good to be with someone like me.”
“Why do you say that?” I question, hating when he says things like that, when he puts himself down or puts me on a pedestal I don’t belong on. “Why do you think that I’m too good for you? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
“No. You came to me with a problem and asked me for help. Instead of doing the right thing, I put you in an impossible position. You didn’t do it for money, or greed, or to be seen on the arm of someone wealthy, you did it so that you could help your mother.”
“I’m not saying what you did wasn’t wrong, but I just think that you were in a bad place, that maybe you weren’t thinking of the consequences of what you set in motion. But Oliver, you’ve more than turned that situation around, don’t you think?”
“I’m glad you think so.”
I love you, I think to myself but still can’t bring myself to say the words. He thinks I’m some kind of martyr because I allowed him to blackmail me, but maybe I’m just a coward, afraid to fight for the things that I want. I’m living my life in a haze, doing what comes easiest instead of what I’d like, loving in secret instead of telling him how I feel. I should tell him. I should, look him in the eye, tell him that I love him, and ask him to stay. Instead, I let the words sit on the tip of my tongue instead of setting them free.
Coward …
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
OLIVER
“Dad’s on the warpath again. He got served yesterday with divorce papers, and he’s about to blow a gasket.”
This comes from Jacob, who has been a completely different person ever since he found out about what had been happening between our parents. I’d actually go as far as to say that he’s likable now.
“She actually did it, huh?” I question. Mom had mentioned that she was considering filing for divorce, and I encouraged that decision, but I didn’t want to push the issue. I want to let her do what she needs to do at her own pace. This transition has been hard enough on her without Jacob and me breathing down her neck. We both
agreed to just be there for her and support her decisions, as long as she wasn’t planning to go back to Dad.
“Yeah, I’m shocked but happy for her.”
“What did Dad do?”
“He lost it. She had him served at the office, midday, when everyone was still here.”
“That was brilliant,” I say with a smile, loving that she had the guts to serve him at work. It must have been absolutely humiliating for him. Appearances are very important to my father, almost as important as money.
“It was. He threw a glass paperweight. Shattered some glass and then stormed out of the office. The gossip mills are in full force today.”
“Of course.”
“Anyway, he’s focusing in on the Savannah hotel today. I’ve told him it’s on track, and that I’ve already gotten a progress update from you, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he calls you. He wants to fuck with someone today, and it’ll probably be you.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be expecting his call.”
It’ll come, it always does. I’m my father’s go-to person to take his frustration out on, especially now that my mom has left him. I’ll gladly take it, though, if it means that she doesn’t have to deal with it anymore. The only good thing about the London project coming up right after I finish with Savannah is that it will put me on a totally different continent as him. Even that’s not far enough away
**
I’m already on edge when I walk into the restaurant tonight. As expected, a phone call from my father came just before I was finishing up for the day. I should have ignored it, but I can’t seem to help myself with him. I never want to give him the opportunity to think that I’m hiding or afraid to hear what he has to say. I can’t ever let him think that he has power over me. The phone call went from bad to worse when he changed topics from discussing the hotel to telling me that he wasn’t going to rest until that bitch mother of mine got what was coming to her. Needless to say, that didn’t go over well with me. It ended when he hung up on me after a pretty fucked-up verbal sparring match. I’m actually shocked I still have a job, but I honestly do not care.
The hostess greets me, and as always, seats me in Riley’s section. She leaves a menu for me, but I don’t even bother looking at it. My eyes are scanning the restaurant looking for my girl. Our eyes lock at exactly the same time, and she rewards me with a smile that I swear could bring a man to his knees.
“Hi, babe,” she says when she reaches me and bends down to give me a quick kiss. I don’t think she’s ever referred to me as that before. She usually just calls me by name. I have to admit I like it, though.
“Hi.” I turn in my chair and put my hands on either side of her waist. “These are very short,” I say of her poor excuse for a uniform.
“It’s required.” She bites her bottom lip; it’s seductive and sexy, and it has the exact desired effect. “Besides, I like the way my boyfriend looks at me when I wear these.”
“Do you?” I look up at her, and I know she feels the electric charge in the air between us. It’s impossible to miss.
“I do,” she replies quietly. Yes. She definitely feels it. “I’m going to get you something to eat. You want a beer?”
“I’ll have whatever you bring me,” I tell her. She walks away, and she’s right, I absolutely stare at the way her ass sways as she heads toward the kitchen.
It’s after she’s brought me my dinner that all hell breaks loose. She’s at the bar placing a drink order for another table, and I witness a drunk asshole put his hands on her waist, much like I’d done earlier. I stand up, ready to step in, but she slips out of his hold easily enough. I’m just about to sit back down when the asshole puts his hand on her ass. I’m pretty sure I see her slap his hand away, but by that time, I’m halfway across the room. Riley is trying to walk away from him, but she freezes when her eyes lock on me. I hear her call my name, but something in me snapped at the sight of his hands on her. A level of rage and fury that I’ve never fucking felt before in all my life emerges. Not even when I pulled my father off my mother have I felt like this. It’s his face I see, though; it’s his face that my fist connects with over and over again. I yell at him never to touch her again, to keep his fucking hands off her, and I don’t know if I’m talking about my mother or Riley, but I think that maybe it’s both of them. The only two women I’ve ever felt anything for.
He gets in a couple of swings, but it doesn’t deter me. I come back at him each time, knocking him back. It takes two people to pull me off him, and as they do, I’m still yelling at him, cursing at him, as Riley tries to explain to whoever is dragging me out of the restaurant that I was only defending her.
“This is not that kind of place, Riley. You know that,” a man says after he lets go of my arm. I’m assuming that he’s the owner of the place, though I’ve never met him before.
“I know, Jim,” she says, but I don’t let her get another word in.
“No, it’s the type of place that lets their waitresses walk around half naked so that they can get manhandled by drunk idiots.”
“Riley, handle this situation now. I’m going to make sure that guy doesn’t press charges against your friend here. That’s the only thing I can do for you,” he says to her. She nods, and he walks away, with the other guy who dragged me out following him in.
“Are you okay?” she asks, lifting her hand to touch my cheek, but I jerk away.
“I’m fine.”
“It’s red. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
“Get your things, let’s go.”
“I’m still on shift. I can’t leave.”
“What?” I ask because I can’t believe that she actually wants to go back in there after that guy touched her like that. “You’re actually going back to work?”
“Oliver, please. Please, just go. I’m off in an hour. I’ll come to the hotel, and we can talk then.”
“You actually expect me to leave you here after what just happened?”
“Yes. I expect you to leave me here and let me handle it before I lose my job and before they decide to press charges against you.”
“Riley.”
“I’m asking you to respect my wishes now. Just go.”
“I can’t.”
We’re in a standoff, but I’ll be damned if I leave her here to deal with this on her own. I’m not sure how long we stand there staring at each other, both of us pissed off, but I’m relieved when she breaks first. She lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Wait here,” she says, turning and walking away, back into the restaurant. It’s probably only five minutes before she comes back out, but I’m on edge the entire time that she’s in there.
“Let’s go,” she says when she reaches me.
“Where’s your car?”
“It’s in the back parking lot; it’ll be safe.”
I want to grab her hand and walk her to my car, but something tells me that it wouldn’t go over well right now. She’s angry with me for causing a scene, but I won’t apologize for defending what’s mine. We reach my car, and she gets in before I can so much as open the car door for her. I’m not quite sure what to do. With the exception of how we started out, she’s never been this angry with me. I can’t even recall an argument in the months since we got together.
I drive to the hotel, and on the way, I ask her if she’s okay, but she just mutters a fine under her breath. I try to engage her again, but she goes on looking out the window with her arms crossed over her chest. I’m grateful when we pull up to the hotel. I don’t bother parking the car myself, I just hand over the keys to the valet, and together, Riley and I walk inside. The elevator ride is silent, filled with nothing but tension. When I let her in the room, she tells me she’s going to take a shower and attempts to walk away from me.
I’m done with her silent treatment by that point. I can’t handle it, not from her, not from Riley.
“Baby, wait,” I say grabbing her arm before she can walk away. I turn her until we’
re face to face, and though she tries to hide it, there’s so much emotion in her beautiful face. I don’t even know how to begin to sort through it all.
“Talk to me.”
“What would you like me to say?”
“I don’t care what you say, just say something.”
“Okay. Why? Why would you do that? I had it under control.”
“Yeah, I was fine right up until the minute he touched your ass.”
“Oliver, you didn’t have to hit him. You could have handled that entire situation differently.”
“No. I couldn’t have.”
“Why?”
“Because it is not okay for me to sit there and do nothing while another fucking man puts his hands on the woman I love. It’s never going to be okay.”
She rocks back on her heels. Her eyes wide, her pretty mouth opens with a surprised intake of breath, as I realize what I’ve just said.
“You … you love me?” It’s a simple question, but there’s so much hope laced within it. The answer is scary because our future is filled with so much uncertainty, but I can’t exactly lie to her or deny it now.
“I do,” I tell her, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her close. “I knew you were special from the start; I think that’s why I couldn’t let you walk away from me that day. That’s why I did what I did to have you.”
“I love you too. I was just scared to tell you.”
Pulling her closer, I wrap my arms around her waist and hers hook around my neck.
“I love that you love me, but I hate that you were scared to tell me. I hate the idea of you being afraid to tell me anything.”
“I was scared you didn’t feel the same way.”
“From the moment we met, you’ve made me absolutely crazy,” I murmur, and she giggles. It’s melodic, happy, and I realize that that sound alone was worth me telling her that I love her.
“You are crazy.”
“I am.”
“So crazy that you can’t come visit me at work anymore,” she pouts. At this, I pull away from her slightly, not liking what I’ve just heard. Not one fucking bit.
