by Lia Lee
With that, she flung herself into the nearest cab and ordered the driver to peel off. It almost broke her to leave Brent behind screaming for her, but she did it anyway.
After all, her hard choices were only just beginning.
Chapter Fifteen
Brent
Brent didn’t understand. Couldn’t process any of the last ten minutes. It had been one of the best nights of his life, the happiest he’d felt since LeeAnne’s death. Jessica was so close to admitting she loved him, too, to letting her walls down. The great night, the ambiance, the lovemaking… all of it. Then, his fucking father ruined it all over again. Like he always did.
It was enough.
Dammit.
Brent was the driving force in his own life and no one else. He stormed through the dance hall, avoiding board members, paparazzi, and his friends alike. There was only one man he needed to see. He found his father schmoozing with the governor. That was the damn problem with his dad. He could turn on the charm and make himself the life of the party, a skill Brent was glad to have inherited. At the same time, he could turn that passion into ire and spite, really go after someone as he had tonight with poor Jessica.
No one really believed or understood the depths of the monster living behind his dad’s overly rehearsed smile. Not until it was too late at least.
“Son,” his father said, his smile broad and triumphant, “I was just telling Governor Forsythe about your newest film. It’s about a boxer down on his luck or was it some cowboys eating pudding? I forget about your little films.”
“It’s not the discussion I want to have right now, Dad,” Brent said. He kept his smile bright and forced, but his tone was clipped. “There are a few questions about when to do the dedication speech, so I’ll need you outside for a moment.”
“I think you’ve spent quite enough time out there, Brent, and ignoring the foundation’s guests.”
He grabbed his father tightly around the elbow and gave it enough of a covert squeeze to let the old bastard know he meant business. “Now. It’s pressing.”
His father’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flash of fear in his eyes, an understanding that dynamics were finally shifting maybe. Whatever it was and whatever was going through his brain, Brent’s father decided to oblige. “Governor, I’ll be right back. We do have to make sure things come off without a hitch.”
That was rich.
Everything had plummeted off the rails, just like his father had wanted.
Jessica was gone, his heart was cracking all over again and, fuck, poor Cara. She’d never understand if he couldn’t win Jessica back. It would crush her, be another loss his poor girl couldn’t survive. Dammit. Why did everything have to be so hard?
Because you’re a Sanderson and Dad lives to fuck things up for you.
“Well, Son, I can’t say I’m out here for a tryst either,” his father quipped as they walked out onto the balcony. The door slammed shut behind them, and Donald shook his head. “I was amused by your own.”
Brent dropped his father’s elbow finally and balled up his hands into fists at his side. “You think you’re so clever. You think you have everything always planned out to suit you.”
“I didn’t plan to get my dick sucked by a girl at my own fundraiser. What the fuck has gotten into you?”
“It’s not what it looks like. Jessica and I have been dating for over four months. We love each other…” Not that she’d quite said it yet, but she was close. “We care about each other. I don’t care about some Vanderbilt or Rockefeller or the governor’s niece or whoever you want to set me up with. A few of them haven’t even batted for the right team if you catch my drift.”
“To make an omelet, you have to break some eggs,” his father said, waving his hand dismissively.
“No,” Brent said, grabbing his father by the lapels of his tuxedo and shoving him hard against the balcony. It was only a twenty-foot drop to the ground below, and Brent would never go that far, but his father needed to understand how through he was with all the old man’s crap. “I’m done. You’re not hearing me. Cara and I care about Jessica. She is the best friend my daughter’s never had. Cara’s smiled more in the last four months than in the almost decade since her mother died. I love her.”
“I can understand why.”
Brent flared his nostrils and then shoved his father harder up against the cool iron of the rails. “We’re done. I’m through with your games and your guilt. I’m through with everything you’ve ever done to me. Cara and I are moving out – should have long ago but she adores you and after LeeAnne… I wanted her to have her family. We don’t have much. But I can see her watching how you treat people – how you use and abuse them – and that’s not the example I want my daughter to have.”
The smirk fell from his father’s face for the first time all night. Genuine alarm colored his features from his wide eyes to gasping mouth. “You can’t be serious. Some fling with a nanny is going to ruin our family?”
“No,” Brent said, finally letting go of the old bastard, “you ruined your own family. You wheedled and pushed and threatened with all your lessons. Well, lesson learned. You can’t fucking be trusted, you certainly can’t love. I’m done with you. And you’ll never see me or Cara again.”
“Son… w-wait,” his father stammered. “I built that company for you. I built all of it for Cara so she can have it, too. I just wanted to provide for you, make you strong.”
Brent couldn’t help but smile. Even if everything else was fucked up, he felt a huge weight lifting from his shoulders. He could see his father now, really see him – that frail frame, the shake in his hands, that slight palsy his father had been able to hide behind his calm façade. Donald Sanderson was sick, and he’d worked himself to a point where he no longer had any family to care, especially after all the abuse he’d doled out.
“You did make me strong, Dad. So strong that I don’t need a fucking bastard like you in my life. Now, get out of here before I have security throw you out. Cara and I will be at my penthouse from now on, and if you try and contact her.” He paused and smiled deliberately. “Well, you won’t like what I do then. After all, I’m my father’s son.”
***
“Jessica!” Brent pounded on the door. “We have to talk, please.”
He’d wanted to leave the event sooner, but the thank you speech to the donors had to be made, and then the press had ambushed him for interviews. After that, it felt like everyone in San Diego from the mayor to half his competition in business and in movies wanted to shake his hand. He’d been forced to grin and bear it for the good of earning money for the much-needed research, but by the time everything had wound down, it had been past two a.m., and he knew that going to see Jessica at that hour wouldn’t help him at all.
Brent had waited exactly about seven hours before rushing to her apartment to try and get her to hear reason, to let her know he’d kicked his father to the curb and his assistants were moving Cara into the penthouse even now.
What he didn’t expect was the pissed off redhead standing in front of him with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest, and her eyes glaring at him as if she possessed the power to set him on fire with just a look. As far as he knew, maybe she did.
“I know who you are, Brent. And I don’t care that you have more money than God or if you’re a hotshot small studio exec. I don’t even care that you’re one of San Diego’s most eligible bachelors.” She rolled her eyes. “None of that matters to me and it sure as shit doesn’t matter to Jessica. I don’t know what happened last night, but she came home in tears and won’t stop crying.”
He swallowed. It was a bit of a relief that she hadn’t said everything. Maybe it was too embarrassing for her to even tell her roommate about the horrible, degrading things his father had said. He hoped so. Brent never wanted his family to cause her so much pain. He never wanted to be the source of her pain. Ever.
Yet here they were.
“I just need to
talk to her. I fixed it, and I can explain everything.”
The redhead stepped through the transom and let the door slam behind her. “I don’t think you get it, buddy. You fucked up, and you lost her. She doesn’t want to see you. I don’t want you to see her. You have no idea how badly you messed up, but it’s over, Brent. Just go away.”
“But I love her.”
She shook her head. “If this is love, I don’t want to see what happens to people you hate.”
“Something happened last night, but I fixed it, and it will never happen again.”
“It’s too late. She’s gone, and she never wants to see you again. She despises you. So leave, and please let the door hit your ass on the way out.” With that, the roommate scurried back through the door, and he heard the click of the locks and even a deadbolt behind her.
Frustrated, Brent surged forward and knocked on the door loudly and persistently. His mind wasn’t focused. It was all a mad, desperate rush to get her back. It was like he was working on instinct, an animal caught in a trap, and he needed to get relief.
Finally, Jessica’s voice, wavering and small, sounded on the other side of the door. “Brent, don’t do this.”
“If it’s my dad… I told him to go to hell. Cara and I are moving permanently into the penthouse. He’ll never be around either of you again.”
“I can’t… Brent, please, just go home.”
“Jessica, you have to hear me out.”
“I did. Twice. Now leave before I call the police, and you know you don’t need that kind of press. I just can’t do this anymore. I’m taking a break from school and getting out of San Diego. Please, if you really love me, you’ll leave me alone.”
He leaned against the door, pressing his head against the cool wood. “Please, I need you.”
“But it’s too dangerous for me to need you, for me to be near the shadier, nastier parts of your family. Please, go.”
Brent lifted his hand to knock on the door again, but then he heard a small, strangled cry on the other side. It hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut. She was in pain, and he was the one causing it now. He’d promised himself he loved her, that he’d protect her. Brent couldn’t bear to be the source of her agony.
There had to be another way to win her back.
He just had to find it.
Chapter Sixteen
Brent
His day went from bad to worse. Brent started by trying to get through a litany of inane conference calls and budget checks at his office. He had a 1:00 p.m. meeting with Allen, which he was both dreading and resolute about. Brent didn’t relish telling one of his closest friends what was going on, how he’d violated Allen’s trust with Jessica. At the same time, he knew now that he couldn’t live without the vivacious woman in his life. He needed her.
More importantly, Cara needed her.
If he was against a wall trying to figure out how to win Jessica back and stop her from leaving town, then he needed to talk to Allen, come clean and find a way to patch everything back together. Fuck his father for doing this and, yeah, Brent needed to be socked in the face a few times himself for ever falling so steadily under his father’s command. He’d believed, foolishly that his daughter needed her grandfather. But she never had.
No one needed a rancid monster like that in their lives. He was certain of that.
As Allen approached, Brent set the massive pile of work he hadn’t finished aside. But Allen didn’t just walk into the office like usual. Oh no. He ran into the office like the hounds of hell were after him and slugged Brent across the jaw. Brent jumped to his feet and was barely following anything going on in the office when Allen punched him again.
This time, Brent spit blood.
The third blow was an uppercut aimed for his nose. Brent dodged that and grabbed Allen by the elbow and twisted the arm up against his back.
“What the hell, Allen?”
“You think I don’t know finally what you’ve been doing?” His partner and friend – was Allen still his friend? – fought against the hold. His skin was turning purple fast from his agitation. “You’ve been having sex with Jessica.”
Brent tried to swallow, but his throat tasted like ash. Still, he held his firm grip on Allen’s arm. He had a few meetings to still make today, and he had no time for the ER. Also, he’d rather not have a broken nose, even if after last night he probably deserved it. “I’m going to let you go.”
“Are you? Then great. I’m going to pound you into the concrete you goddamned son of a bitch!”
He twisted Allen’s arm a bit more, letting the pressure spread up his elbow. His friend yowled with pain. Brent shook his head. “I’m going to let you go now, and you need to not punch me. I can keep you pinned tighter and longer, but I don’t want to hurt your arm. Now, can you be reasonable or do I have to call security?”
Allen’s breathing was ragged and exhausted. “Fine, but I still might kick you in the balls, you ass.”
Taking the chance, Brent dropped Allen’s arm and quickly made sure his desk was squarely between them. “Now, can we talk like rational adults?”
A vein in Allen’s forehead was pulsating, and it looked like being rational was the absolute last thing on his (former) friend’s mind. “I don’t know, Brent. If in ten years someone in this office was having an affair with Cara, could you keep a civil tongue?”
Brent’s own heart raced at the thought of his precious girl, even a decade from now, being pawed at by one of the production assistants or vice location scouts. He’d hate it. Hell, he’d lock that man up in a room – no, a dungeon – and never let the bastard out again.
“I couldn’t.”
“Then you get how good we were as friends that I’m not leaping across this desk and strangling you right now!” Allen raked a hand through his thinning hair. “How could you do this? To me? Was that the whole plan? The moment I sent Jessica to you for one of my errands, you were going to seduce her?”
Brent shook his head and held up his hands in a supplicating gesture. “No, you have to believe me. At first, it was all about Cara. Jessica was so kind to her. The children at school were bullying my daughter. She had no friends, and then Jess came along like an angel. Everything else fell into place after that. It just happened.”
“So, no setup?”
“Jesus, what kind of a monster do you take me for?”
“The kind who’d have sex with his close friend’s college-age daughter. The kind who’d lie to his closest collaborator for months with a smile on his face. The kind who leaves that daughter he claims to love oh-so-much in tears for over a day.”
“About that. I have to talk to Jessica.”
Allen balled his hands up into fists at his side. “You’re never seeing her again.”
“Did she come to you?”
“No, you idiot – I saw some paparazzi photos from the event, and she’s been wearing that necklace nonstop for a few weeks. I knew exactly what was going on even with a mask and wig. Damn it, don’t you think I know my little girl. The second I saw it come up on a site, I booked a flight here from NYC.”
“Yeah, I can say both you and my bruised jaw are a surprise.”
“I called her but was screened, so I talked to her roommate, Ashley, who said that Jessica was too embarrassed to talk to me, but I could hear her crying in the background. I don’t know what you did to her—”
“I’d never do anything to harm her.”
“So you say, but she sounded like a wounded animal. You leave her alone. Jessica and I are none of your business ever again. In fact,” Allen added, his nostrils flaring wide, “you’ll never see either of us again. I quit.”
“Allen, please. I need her.”
Allen shook his head and stormed for the door. “She never needed you. Maybe you should think about that.”
***
He’d begged his father’s housekeeper, Cecile, to take some extra time that night and babysit Cara after school. So far, he’d hidden t
he fact he’d fucked up royally with Jessica by having Cecile spin some lie for his daughter about Jessica traveling for vacation. Cara was smart enough to know that made no sense at the beginning of a college semester. However, it was the best he could do to buy time and to have an eye on his daughter.
Right now?
Right now, he was getting shit-faced at the Ace of Clubs, a bar a few blocks from their offices. He hoped that with enough vodka in his system, he wouldn’t care that he had just lost the best thing in his life. Originally, his plan was to go there and think of another way to get Jessica to speak with him. Instead, his brain had come up with nothing. As a result, getting blotto seemed like the best analgesic he could come up with.
“Another!” he said, waving at the bartender. He’d had four so far, and the bartender was going to cut him off eventually. However, as another martini was poured out before him, Brent knew that, currently, he hadn’t reached the cutoff point. “Thanks,” he said, saluting the bartender. Then he brought the drink to his lips. “Congratulations, everyone, I really managed to fuck everything up.”
“I’ll say.”
Brent turned and looked at Carl who was slipping onto a bar stool himself. “You’re here to go, ‘I told you so?’ If you want to rub it in today, then I’m not in the mood. I’m painfully aware of how badly I messed everything up. My life just turned Chernobyl today. So, if you’re here to get joy out of being right, then soak it up.”
Carl sighed and ordered a club soda. “I don’t drink on weekdays. My wife’s rule.”
“Good you still have someone to go home to.”
The other man took his drink and took a small sip before replying, “I came to see how you were. Obviously, everyone in the company knows what happened. Allen is the best, smartest financial manager here or in L.A. We won’t get far without him, and you know, I liked having a job.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“Maybe, but this isn’t the way things should be, man. We’re friends, and we work even better as a production team. I don’t want this to be the end of how things are.”
