by Lacey Black
“I was twelve when I discovered my mom’s secret. She had breast cancer, stage four. She hid it well, but I could tell something was wrong. I asked and asked, but always got the same answer. Nothing. Finally, she became so ill that she was bedridden. There was no hiding it then. Mom had to tell us because my father was too busy fucking everyone at the casino. She withered away to nothing right before our eyes, and no one could do a goddamn thing about it. Three months later, she was gone. It was right before my thirteenth birthday.”
“Holy shit,” Dani whispers, her tears streaming unchecked down her face.
I remember the funeral, the way my father shook hands and cried along with all the elite assholes that didn’t really give a shit about my mother. He played the part of grieving husband, and he played it well. No one knew he had a bottle of bourbon and his piece of ass waiting for him in the parking lot. But I knew. And I hated him for it.
“I was born to take over The Chameleon one day. It was bred into me from my earliest memories. When I graduated college, I knew my life was his. If it weren’t for my grandfather stepping in and giving me one final summer of freedom, I wouldn’t have even have been at that festival that night. That weekend was my last night of independence before I finally sat in the seat next to him. My grandfather was officially retired, but still held the majority shares. He refused to hand them over until I was settled in the company. I hated that fucking place. It wasn’t the company my grandfather started and nurtured. It was tainted and spoiled with my father at the helm. I wanted nothing to do with it.”
“Then how did you get out of there? You’re obviously not still working there,” Dani says while rubbing her hand up and down my back in a calming fashion. I love the feel of her hands on me, but this is one of the only times she has touched me and it didn’t feel sexual. It feels comforting.
“About two years after I started, I snapped. He wanted me there because it was required of me in the contract from my grandfather. See, my grandfather wanted to make sure I was taken care of and set within the company. Well, my father found a way to keep me involved without actually involving me. He cut me out of everything until one day I flipped. It actually came to blows between us. My father lay on the floor, his lip busted the fuck up, and I told him I was out. I told him all the things I had wanted to tell him my entire life, and before I walked out that door, I vowed to take him down.
“The Chameleon was the first company I purchased and took over. It was the first company I disassembled and destroyed, piece by fucking piece. I watched as he sat there and everything he worshipped, cared about, crumbled around him.”
“But, your grandfather -” Dani started, but I cut her off.
“My grandfather gave me his blessing. When I left, he changed all of the contracts and paperwork to ensure my father didn’t cut me out of anything from then on. Financially, I was set. Grandfather didn’t turn over full reigns of the company because he hadn’t truly trusted my father. That’s why it was so important for me to have a place within the business. I was his way of keeping things right. But when he realized that wasn’t going to happen, he helped me start Hunter Enterprises and take down The Chameleon. He even bought the first round of drinks that night at the bar,” I tell her with a small smile, recalling my grandfather’s toast to my success.
“My grandfather passed away a few years ago, and Tara is all I have left. My sperm donor is around still, living off of what little money he has left from the purchase of the company. I rarely hear from him, though it does happen on occasion.”
“Reid, I don’t even know what to say,” Dani says, wrapping her arms so tightly around me that it’s hard to breathe.
“I don’t want you to say anything. You can’t change my past any more than I can. You have to understand that I don’t visit that part of my life. Ever. I get your need to know more about me. I’m not a saint, Dani. I’ve done lots of things that I am not proud of; things so horrible that you wouldn’t even recognize the man before you. But when you’re here, all of that seems trivial. It feels like I can put it all in the past where it belongs. For the first time, I feel like my past doesn’t have a hold on me.”
“It doesn’t have a hold on you, Reid. You can let this go and just be you. You can be whomever you want to be.”
“I want to believe you. It’s going to take time for me to be able to, though,” I confess, squeezing her body within my arms. I know this battle may be my biggest struggle of all. Letting go.
Can I let go of my past demons? Can I let go of the hurt and the anger and the rage I’ve carried around like luggage for the past two decades? Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve hated my father. Hated The Chameleon. Hated that I couldn’t save my sister. Hated that cancer took my mother. Hated my life.
Everything I’ve ever loved has been taken away from me. That’s why I will always keep Tara at arms-length. Maybe if I don’t love her as much, I won’t taint her beauty with my shit. Sure, I know I’m wrong. I know that’s not how love works. I remember how love works, can see it plainly when I think of my mother and Reagan. I know it in my heart, but I can’t seem to get my fucking head to agree.
And then there’s Ryan and Dani. I love my son more than anything in this world. In a month, I’ve learned what real love is. I’ve felt it. And Dani? I feel like part of my soul is missing whenever she’s not near. I know I love her too, but I still can’t seem to make myself say the words. They’re too hard. Even now after confessing my past to her, I still hold back.
I know it.
My entire adult life, I’ve profited off my rage and anger. I’ve made a living–a damn good one, at that–off taking down everyone and anything littler than me. I became the bully, only interested in beating down the little guy whose business is weaker than mine. To benefit off their failure. Win.
Now I guess it’s time to figure out if I can profit off something else, something other than the ugly. Time to find out if I can make a life with something beautiful.
Something like love.
Chapter Twenty-One – Falling Down
Dani
Listening to Reid share his past with me last night was excruciating. Not only could I see the pain in his eyes, see it written on his face, but I could feel it radiating from his body. He’s held onto so much hurt and anger for so long, and it has molded the man he is today. But even though he shared so much with me last night, I still had this nagging feeling that there was more; something else that was left unspoken.
After our talk, he invited me to dinner tonight. He seemed eager to steal a little alone time with me, and I’ll admit I am excited for the same. He has a late conference call today so I’m meeting him in his apartment above his office. It’s the first time I’ve ever been there, but he told me that the receptionist downstairs wouldn’t give me any trouble.
When I step through the revolving door at the entrance of Hunter Enterprises, I’m suddenly aware of the fact that I’m underdressed. I’m still wearing the tan slacks and light blue silk top that I wore for my day of dealing with third graders. My shoes are more for comfort than anything else. Standing on your feet for seven hours a day makes you carefully weigh all options when it comes to footwear.
Miss Congeniality is sitting at the front desk when I step inside the cool entrance of the building. “Can I help you?” she asks. Either she doesn’t recognize me or she’s choosing to be difficult. I’m going with the latter.
“Miss Whitley,” I hear over my shoulder before I can answer. Turning, I take in Steven’s handsome, smiling face, and can’t help the smile that spreads over my own.
“Steven,” I say as he pulls me into a hug before placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.
“I’m so happy to see you again,” he says with a wink. “Reid asked me to make sure you are shown upstairs,” he says as he starts to lead me towards the elevator. Again, we slip into the one situated away from the others; the one that takes us straight to Reid’s office and private apartment.
�
��Well, I’m happy to see you again as well. And thank you for seeing me up.”
“Reid was just getting into his conference call when I came down. They can last anywhere from thirty to sixty minutes on average,” Steven says as the elevator door opens, giving me my first view of Reid’s apartment. “Please, make yourself at home.”
I take in the lush space before me. Where Reid’s house is expansive and somewhat clinical, this space is full of rich colors and lush textures. Even though at first sight it appears void of any real personal touches, you can clearly tell that Reid spends most of his time here.
“The chef already delivered dinner. It’s in the warmer. There are a few bottles of wine that Reid requested on the counter. Help yourself to anything you want,” Steven says.
“Can I snoop?” I ask playfully. Though the more I think about it, the more I realize I’m fully on board with a little snooping.
“Knock yourself out,” he says with a wink before heading over to the elevator.
I turn and head towards the living room, anxious to kick off my ballerina flats. “Dani?” I hear behind me and stop to turn towards Steven. “I just wanted you to know that he’s different since you walked back into his life. A good different. A happiness has settled over him, and it’s something I’ve never seen before. Thank you for making him smile,” Steven says, keeping those blue eyes trained on me.
I can’t seem to speak over the lump of emotion lodged in my throat, so I just give him a quick head nod. “I wish you both nothing but the best,” he adds before slipping into the elevator and leaving me in nothing but silence.
After setting down my satchel on the table, I take off to check out Reid’s space. The couch is plush, brown leather with a matching chair. The tables are a dark, rich wood, and the television is massive. Yet, if I know Reid at all, I bet it isn’t on very often.
The kitchen appliances are bright chrome and look brand new. Obviously Reid isn’t much of a cook, if yesterday’s breakfast fiasco is any indication, so I’m assuming he doesn’t use the kitchen much at all.
Down a hallway, I find three doors. The first one leads to a large room filled with workout equipment. This must be where Reid goes to keep his impressive body in top form. Just the thought of him sweating while running on the treadmill or grunting while lifting weights has heat rushing to the apex of my legs.
The second door I find leads to a bathroom with a massive tile shower stall, and the third door hits jackpot. Reid’s bedroom.
The room instantly smells like him as I step over the threshold. The bedding is all black and situated perfectly atop the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. A single nightstand with a lone alarm clock sits on the left side of the bed; from what I discovered during my weekend visits to Reid’s house, that’s the side he prefers to sleep on. I can’t help myself; I walk over to the nightstand and peek inside. Condoms. Lots and lots of condoms. More condoms than a corner pharmacy, to be exact. Every color and texture you could possibly imagine. The only thing that’s the same is the size. Magnum.
My breath catches in my throat. Instantly, I understand what this place is. This is his screw pad. This is the place where he entertains his lady friends. Now I understand why his house feels almost clinical, yet this place feels warm and inviting. Even lacking the personal touch, this place feels like someone lives here. Suddenly, I’m wishing I hadn’t snooped at all. Shutting the drawer with a loud bang, I high tail it out of there and make my way to the living room.
Forget snooping and checking out the rest of the place.
Sitting on the sofa, I try to calm my rapidly beating heart. Is that why he brought me here? No, it can’t be. I’ve already been to his house and spent the night with him there. I know Reid has a past. He’s admitted to it. He’s no saint. But sitting here and imaging all the women who have come and gone from this apartment brings out every insecurity a girl could possibly have. Hell, I’d be a liar if I said even jealousy wasn’t rearing its ugly little head right now. It makes me wonder if Reid has a “type” and where I would fall into that category.
The thing that brings me a bit of comfort is remembering that he doesn’t do relationships. Reid’s confession last night only reiterated the fact that he’s just as much in unchartered waters with me as I am with him. I’ve dated, but that’s it. Casual dating. And it appears that Reid has only ever done the same thing. Hell, he really hasn’t done much dating. It sounds like he’s more of the screw them and get the hell out of dodge kind of man.
I can do this. I can open myself up completely to Reid, and show him that there’s a possibility of more between us. He’s already shared so much with me, more than he’s ever shared with anyone before. I know that Reid holds my heart, even if I haven’t told him yet. I need to trust him. There’s no room for doubt.
I do trust him, I realize.
I need to tell him.
Three little words.
I just got myself calmed back down, my self-esteem firmly in place, and hope bubbling in my heart like champagne, when I hear the elevator open. Hopping up off the couch, I’m suddenly very anxious to get my arms wrapped around him. At this moment, telling him that I’m falling for him seems like the most urgent thing in the world.
I practically run into the kitchen only to have my steps falter a bit. Reid isn’t standing in the kitchen. The woman before me is tall with long legs, perfect brown hair, and hazel eyes. Her makeup is heavily applied to perfection, and she reeks of money, class, and expensive perfume.
“Hi, can I help you?” I ask, unable to keep the timid out of my voice. There’s something about this woman that screams viper, and if I don’t stay on my toes, she looks like she could eat me for breakfast.
The woman before me lets her eyes run up and down my body, and if the look of disdain she gives is any indication, she definitely finds me lacking in style and appearance. “I’m meeting someone,” she huffs before inspecting her manicure.
“Oh, okay. Who are you waiting for?” I ask. As far as I know this was Reid’s apartment, but maybe someone else, like Jon, uses it from time to time?
“I’m waiting for my fiancé,” she claims without looking at me.
I’m not sure who she’s waiting for, but it is obviously not Reid. I exhale the breath that I didn’t realize I was holding and give her a smile. “Well, I’m the only one here right now. I’m sure your fiancé will be along shortly,” I say stepping into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
“I’m sure he’ll be here any moment. We’re having dinner this evening,” she says before setting the world’s smallest purse down on the table. I catch her looking at my satchel bag and rolling her eyes in annoyance.
“You’re having dinner here?” I ask, not quite following. Did Reid not realize that his apartment was being used this evening? Is there some sort of sex schedule to book this place?
“Yes,” she says, exasperatingly. “Would you get me a glass of wine?” she asks while digging in her mini-purse. Okay. I make my way over to where two bottles of red wine are waiting on the counter. Grabbing one of the two glasses, I pour her a bit of wine.
“Thank you. What is for dinner this evening?” she asks, making herself comfortable at the table.
“Excuse me?” How in the hell am I supposed to know what’s for dinner tonight?
“Dinner. Tonight. What did you make for dinner?” she asks, her annoyance with me and my seemingly irritating answer to her questions with another question evident.
“I…I didn’t make dinner,” I stumble. What the hell is going on here?
“Are you or are you not the maid?” she asks, again, not bothering to look up at me.
“I’m not the maid. I’m meeting someone here,” I tell her defiantly.
“Well, you’re going to have to meet your little friend somewhere else. My fiancé is finishing up a conference call and then he’ll be up. We want a nice, quiet night in this evening,” she says.
My brain is trying to process what she’s saying, but it’s
stuck on one part of the statement. Conference call. “Who is your fiancé?” I whisper, suddenly unable to speak normally.
“Reid Hunter.”
Her words crash into me like a tsunami. My gut tightens and I fight the nausea setting in. “Reid is your fiancé?” I ask, again my voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes. We’re to be married by the end of year,” she says, looking up at me with a perfect little smile. Yet her smile is filled with malice and rudeness. Almost evil.
“Reid Hunter?” I ask, my mind trying to process what she’s just told me.
“Who else lives in this apartment? Reid and I have dinner often here. He’s been working so much lately that I couldn’t pass up his invitation to join him this evening. My man works so hard,” she bites out through lipstick stained lips.
My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Reid is engaged? I want to dismiss her claims, but something doesn’t feel right. Just when I’m about to ask her further questions, I hear the ding signaling the arrival of the elevator. The door opens with a quiet swoosh, and Reid steps through the door looking frazzled.
“Reid, darling,” the woman says before flitting towards him, her heels echoing in the quiet room.
Reid appears shocked as he looks from me to the woman who now has her arms wrapped around his waist. My jaw is practically hanging on the ground as she extends herself upward and places a kiss on his silent lips.
“Cynthia, what are you doing here?” he asks, never taking his steel eyes off of me.
“I missed you, baby. I thought I’d surprise you with dinner tonight,” she coos as she runs her hands up Reid’s chest. My stomach clenches with the desire to retch.
The movement jolts him a bit causing him to jump back. He disentangles himself the rest of the way from her claws before turning back to me.
