Shit, it’s Parker, not Maya. Well, I’ll just have to barge my way in. That seems to be the order of the day for people to get what they want.
He puts his hand out. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
“I have to explain.” I try to move forward but the guy is stronger than he looks. Also, this isn’t some drunken rant by the way. I’m sober. I have less than a beer down me. Which doesn’t feel as good as it sounds.
“Stop making a scene, Grayson, or I’ll call the cops. Leave now, and work your problems out tomorrow.”
Is he giving me advice?
The thing about being such a great businessman is knowing when a deal will give you millions, and when it’ll bankrupt you. I can see my flaws. I’m acting like a typical caveman, thinking with force instead of intelligence. Just because I know what the truth is, clearly Maya doesn’t.
And haven’t I learnt how Maya thinks in the last few months we’ve been together? She’s just like her mother. Actions make trust, not words.
So I have a decision to make. Continue acting like Rambo and force Maya to believe me, or give her the proof she needs so that she’ll never question me again.
It’s an easy choice really.
I lean away from the door, not without realising Parker is checking me out. Guess I should’ve worn a top after all. “Okay. I’ll be back. I’m willing to fight for the love I can’t live without.”
If I were wearing a suit, I’d be straightening the lapels of my jacket with my newfound confidence. Instead, I leave to head into the rain, and become more and more satisfied that my plan will work.
She won’t be without me for long.
I won’t let her.
~ £ ~
“Fucking hell, Logan! How did she even get in? What happened to my well-paid security team?”
You ever wonder what it is you’re paying for when you buy a bag of crisps? Is it the potato chips or air that costs a fortune? The same thing applies here, because I sure as shit can’t understand how Sabrina, a petite woman, managed to work her way into my nightclub.
He shakes his head. “She flirted with one of the doormen, walked right in.”
Come again? “The stupid fucker didn’t recognise her?” I’d made it pretty clear for the past couple weeks that pictures of my evil ex be buried into their subconscious.
“I believe he was too busy thinking with his dick, as you often say.”
I smirk, of course Logan would use that phrase. “Are you fucking kidding me? Fire his scrawny arse. I pay for him to concentrate, he can talk with his cock when he’s not working.”
I collapse into my home office chair, running my hands over my tired face
“Anything else?”
“Why is this happening to me? What is Sabrina after?”
“You mean besides your money?”
I sigh. Isn’t this all just fucked up? “Go home to your family, Logan. I’ll take care of my shattered heart.”
“Maya will understand, Grayson. Just give her time.” He disappears out of the room, and I’m faced with an empty home.
Sober.
Broken.
Lonely.
Isn’t this the best way to spend your birthday? Staring at the cold grey walls; a reflection of my soul.
I pick up the phone, leaving a message with Darla. Oh, she’s going to have a field day controlling tomorrow’s media. I’m going to be slandered for bad parenting, something entirely untrue. I’ve been doing it well since I was ten.
“Grayson? Are you home?”
I sink further into my seat. Where’s the whiskey when you need it? “In here.”
Layla comes in, Cam at her side. I’m haunted by the look that’s in her eyes, it’s what she’s seeing in me.
I’m okay, aren’t I? Coping well under the circumstances. I mean, I’ve just had my heart torn to pieces in front of an entire audience, yet I’m still standing. Well, sitting to be accurate but you understand my meaning.
I’m not curled up in bed, ignoring the world as I drown in mine. Which, ironically, I can’t be blamed for doing when I’ve had an excellent role model to take after.
The problem now, of course, is that I have no idea what to do with myself. I should be wrapped up in bed sheets with Maya, fucking the night away. Instead I’m here, really trying not to drown in my sorrows. I’m determined this isn’t over. I won’t succumb to self-pity.
Not yet.
“You can both leave,” I say, moving into the living room. “I’m not going anywhere, you don’t need to babysit me.”
Don’t you just hate being watched over?
“Did you call the lawyers?”
“Yes, Layla. They’re working on my paperwork as we speak.”
“Good. I swear I’m this close to beating the bitch up.”
“Don’t bother. She’ll get what’s coming to her in a few days. Until then, I’m going to bed.”
“Grayson, don’t. . .”
“Layla, let him go. It’s been a long night.”
I nod to Cam, and disappear. I’m not tired, but I sure as hell can’t sit in a room where pity is all I can taste. I’m not a wounded animal yet.
I have to fight for her first.
~ £ ~
Sunday’s by nature are abysmal, this Sunday is worse. Maya won’t answer my calls, texts or emails. I contemplate taking a stab at her apartment again but if last night taught me anything, it will be a waste of my time. By that, I mean, I’m better off preparing something that will work.
So I’m sat up in my bed, iPad open, breakfast to the side as I plan the most effective way to melt her icy exterior.
I stare at bundles of flowers, but it’s just not personal enough. Any arsehole can click a button and let the sales people do all the work. But I guess it can’t hurt, right? It’s a starter.
I pick up the phone and have the largest bunch of pink roses sent to Maya’s apartment today. Gotta love living in the city.
And while I’m thinking up my next move, I catch the sight of a pile of gift-wrapped boxes. I didn’t notice them before. Layla must have brought them up from the club.
My intention is to ignore the presents, but one name stands out from the mound and I can’t resist. I jump off the bed, and pick up the gift, surprised by its weight.
Grayson,
To a lifetime of happy memories.
Happy Birthday.
I love you.
Maya
xXxXxXx
Shit, doesn’t that jumpstart the tear ducts? I save the card, because apparently I’ve become a sentimental pussy like that, and rip through the wrapping. Not quite the finesse I’d have given had she been here, but I’m dying to find out what’s inside. It’s the closest thing I have to her being here, where she belongs.
I’m stumbling to the bed, doing my best not to let my pathetic tears ruin the beauty. She’s given me her talent, a reminder of how we met in the first place.
She’s made me a canvas, using her remarkable skills to manipulate photos of our time together into the silhouettes of a man and woman kissing. Christ, even the sunset of our time in Lanzarote is enough to break me down.
In every photo my sunshine is happy, her smile beaming. Shit, I’d give anything to return to our escape, it’s been nothing but trouble since we returned.
Without thinking I nail the canvas to my wall, knowing it’ll be the first and last thing I’ll see every day. The way I’ve intended to spend my life with her for the past couple of weeks already.
Regardless if she’ll ever be mine again, I have no intention to let her escape my mind.
She’s already seared in my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
~ £ ~
Since meeting Maya it turns out that I’ve perfected the art of doing things without actually knowing what it is I’ve done. Let me explain, the work morning has flown by, I’ve been sat at my desk. I’ve done what’s needed to be despite never concentrating on the task in the first place. I suppose it’s like blacking out whe
n you’ve drunk too much. Your body still moves, but your mind has well and truly taken a vacation.
Any guesses where mine’s gone? It’s not far. About nine floors down, in an office on the eleventh floor.
Do you know how fucking painful it is knowing Maya’s there and I can’t see her? It’s like telling a dog to watch his treat without eating it. Or giving a baby a nipple to suck that isn’t lactating.
Cruel.
Unsurprisingly, Maya still hasn’t returned my messages. Any of them. Not even the emails I sent this morning. And she’s definitely not acknowledging my flowers.
But that’s okay. She’s allowed to be mad, upset even, providing that once this phase is over she’ll see what a giant, heaping sack of shit this unnecessary turmoil has been. Christ, I can’t even think about the alternative.
As I stand and stare out the large windows, I can see the paparazzi swarming the ground below. Fuck, it’s like a feeding frenzy at the zoo, everyone wants a bite of Grayson’s life to ruin.
Doesn’t a man deserve a bit of happiness in life? Where’s the balance in the cosmic beam? I’m pretty sure the bad is currently outweighing the good in my life.
“Mr. Rush, your mother’s on line one.”
I head back to the desk. “Thank you, Olivia,” I speak into the buzzer, picking up the phone in the process. Thank God for re-routing calls. If I didn’t have Olivia monitoring every nuisance media caller, I wouldn’t have the luxury of a moment’s peace today. Perhaps it’s time I give her a raise.
“Mother,” I say, raising my feet onto my desk.
“How are you doing, cupcake?”
Christ, that nickname never stops making me cringe. “I’m fine,” I say, guarded. God knows I’m not known for my one-to-one heart vomits with my mother.
“I heard what happened with Sabrina. That must be difficult for you.”
Oh, she’s lucid enough to see the pain of others now, is she? I bet you were wondering when she would show up at my party, right? Well, my birthday parties don’t offer the same expectations as my work functions do. She has no interest in wasting effort on a birthday bash that has no real rich prospects to smother her presence with. I told you she’s selfish. I can guarantee this call isn’t really about me either.
“Would you like me to say a word to the media? They’re waiting outside. . .”
Christ, what did I say less than a second ago? “Ignore them, mother. I’m taking care of this the way I’ve always taken care of things. Don’t pretend to give a shit because you want your picture in the papers.”
How fucking transparent can you get?
“Grayson, how could you say such a thing? I’m your mother. . .”
I sit up, controlling my rolling anger. “My mother? Then maybe you should try wishing your son a happy birthday before you begin expressing your needs to be in the limelight.”
I slam the phone down, pacing the office. Fuck me, I’m like a whiny child. Doesn’t it seem like everything’s falling apart around me?
Here I go again with the dramatics.
I’m up. I’m down. Christ, this bi-polar shit better not be catching.
“Olivia, can you come in here please?”
I wait patiently as I stare at phase two of my grand plan to get Maya back. Olivia comes in, her greying hair tousled. Is she stressed?
“If my mother calls again let it go to voicemail, we don’t have time for her schemes today.”
She nods, fidgeting with her hands.
“I need you to do me a favour. Can you take this down to Maya, make sure she opens it?”
“Of course, Mr. Rush. Should I be worried?”
I exhale, a smile on my face. “I hope not.” I hand her the jewellery box that holds the silver star necklace with the engraving ‘There’s beauty in darkness’ on the back, and the single diamond that sparkles in the centre at the front.
“Afterwards, make sure you take a long lunch. The phones can ring until I’m deaf,” I joke, sending her away.
You might be wondering why I’m sending gifts to Maya without being the one to do so myself. Well, the answer is two-fold. One, do you think she’d accept anything without cussing me out in the process first? And two, I’m building up to something bigger that takes time. Basically, my piece de resistance isn’t ready yet, but I don’t want Maya thinking I’m moving on after her little explosion Saturday night. I’m still very much invested in our relationship. And once I have the one true action I know will solidify her trust in me, she needs to see that she never left my mind. Not once.
It’s important she knows how much she means to me, even if it does seem like empty gestures right now.
When Olivia returns a few hours later, and I still haven’t heard from Maya, it’s safe to say my optimism in our future together dwindles slightly. I mean, I’m on a tight time frame here. The longer we go without resolving our issues, the less likely it is she’ll come back to me. It’s simple math.
The fire will eventually burn out, and when it does, Grayson Rush will be destroyed forever. There’ll be no embers left to flicker back to life.
She will consume me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
~ £ ~
It’s been a week without Maya. One-hundred and sixty-eight hours of gift-giving without acknowledgement. Ten-thousand and eight minutes of dire thoughts. Six-hundred-four-thousand, and eight-hundred seconds of absolute hell.
A lifetime I don’t wish to repeat ever again.
I’m lying on my office sofa, arm stretched over my eyes when the printer springs to life. And I’m rushing around like I’ve just been injected with adrenaline because there’s only one thing I’ve been waiting to pop out of the machine all week.
My proof.
I glance at the papers, and I’m filling with joy at the realisation everything will be better soon. It has to be. She’ll accept this, right?
I send a reply to my lawyers through the smart technology, straighten out my suit, and perfect my smoulder where it stays as I head down to the eleventh floor. It’s time to look irresistible.
Christ, here we go again with the clammy palms.
You can forget professionalism, I intend to win my girl back for good even if that is with a spectacle. This has gone on long enough as it is.
I make my way through the offices, ignoring the stares following my movements, particularly the ones from my sister. I guess Friday is her temping day. I head straight for Maya’s office. The one I had the luxury of fucking her in already.
Shit, that got the weeping soldier’s attention.
I’m in luck, Maya hasn’t spotted me yet. I walk in all business-like, closing the door behind me, and when she looks up I’m screwed. She’s shooting me right in the heart with her dazzling jades like laser beams.
Pow-pow.
She doesn’t say anything despite there being a moment of pure, delicious tension between us. She just bends her head back to her computer and pretends like I’m not here, like she’s done all week.
Well, guess what? The time for invisibility is over.
“Maya,” I begin, suddenly aware that with all my waiting for this information I never prepared my delivery. You have to understand, there’s tons of pressure on me to get this right. Have I not mentioned it’s my last shot at redemption?
“I’m not interested, Grayson.”
“Bullshit,” I call her bluff, noticing the necklace I’d given her dangling on her chest. “I’m not here to fight with you, sunshine. I just want you to listen.”
Her lips thin, and all I want to do is prop her up against the wall and kiss her senseless.
“Why are you running from me?”
She sighs, her chest rises. I will not stare at her tits. I will not stare at her tits. Fuck me, I just can’t help myself.
Boner boing.
“I’m tired of fighting against Sabrina. You clearly have unsolved history together.”
Can you feel my shoulders sagging? “If we do, that’s her problem n
ot mine. Do you really believe I’m the father of her child? Even after what I told you?”
I want her to say no regardless of the fact I have the answer in my hands. I want her to trust me without proof.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, and I see a kind of weariness that lets me know she’s been thinking about it for days. All she had to do is ask.
I sigh, taking the papers out of their brown envelope. “Here’s your proof seeing as you won’t believe my words. I told you I always knew her child wasn’t mine. I made sure to take a paternity test so that if Sabrina did decide to come waltzing back she couldn’t successfully claim anything from me. I owe her nothing. It’s negative, by the way.”
I slide the papers to her desk, her eyes are wide with shock. Possibly regret. “There’s also a copy of a restraining order I’ve put in place against Sabrina’s stalking. She can’t come between us anymore. I told you she’s manipulative, that she’s only ever been interested in my money from the moment I became wealthy.”
That’s what took so long in getting the documents accepted. I want to make sure her son still receives his treatment at the Foundation without letting his mother anywhere near me in the process. Thank God for the best lawyers in the business.
Still, Maya says nothing. It’s not the reunion I envisioned. No papers flown in the air, running into my arms, forgetting the past week. None of that. She just sits, glancing between me and the paperwork. Maybe it’s shock.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but if you’d let me explain before we wouldn’t be here now. I don’t even know what to do anymore. . .”
Oh, shit. The tears are preparing for their sequel. Brace yourselves. “I’ll give you time to think this through.” I pause, keeping my emotions in check. I will not blubber like a fucking baby in front of her. “I’ll be at the Foundation’s gala tonight. If you come, I’ll take it as a sign that we’re moving past this glitch and heading towards something more. If you don’t, I’ll understand we’re really through. I’ll stop pursuing, end the gifts. I’ve played my last hand.”
Wicked Sunshine Page 19
