The Solitude of Passion

by Addison Moore

  “I’m not letting shit happen. I’m odd that way.”

  “You gonna win this battle?”

  “I win every battle.”

  He winces, closes his eyes like he’s already had too much to drink. Probably has.

  “It’s because I have your back,” he says. “That’s why you win.”

  “You want to have my back at Townsend? I’ve got three faulty lines, and every plumber in the world is convinced you can’t re-dig the pipes without killing every one of those crops.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Quick fixes. I fix one, the next day there’s another leak. Some get water, some don’t.”

  “Sounds like your house. Someone’s getting some, someone’s not. You’d better up your game, buddy. You know how she’s going to judge this contest—beneath the sheets.”

  “Shut the hell up.” I grind my palm into my eye. I’m sleepy. I miss my bed, my wife, my life. “All these problems, funny how they surfaced just as Mitch touched down on U.S. soil.”

  “The boy’s always been bad luck.”

  “You’re no horseshoe yourself.” Did I just defend Mitch?

  “Maybe I will come tomorrow. Bring my better half—hell, bring complimentary DVDs for everyone.” He belts out a laugh. “You gotta have that you-can’t-beat-‘em-join-‘em attitude in life. You watch it?”

  “Are you nuts? She’s like my sister-in-law. I’m not watching that crap, but I think Lee did.”

  “She pick up on anything? Notice anything new?”

  I shake my head.

  I’m not sure when we’re going to rectify that either.

  On a clear morning, at the polished offices of Townsend Shepherd, Hudson and Candi stride into the boardroom like they own the place. Candi has her assets on display for all to see, inspiring twelve dumbstruck foreign investors to rise to the occasion, followed by Mitch, Colton, and me. Lee cuts a look that doubles as a death threat as the two of them take their seats.

  If I had thought there was any chance they’d actually be here, I would have made my protest crystal fucking clear. I would have paid them not to show.

  I open with the niceties before I turn the table over to the PR team and watch them work their magic—their dry, out of practice, remedial at best—back of the cereal box hocus pocus.

  An investor from the Emirates with a thin goatee, sharp, lively eyes asks about the steady decline in TS commodities. Mitch and I exchange glances.

  “It’s a hiccup.” They’ve traveled over fifteen thousand miles looking for an explanation, and I tell them it’s something akin to a bodily function? Just fuck.

  “You have one too many hiccups.” It comes from the other end of the table. By the time I look over, everyone is laughing, so it’s hard to pinpoint exactly who the heckler is.

  “Mitch.” Johan Rewler. Our top man from France was raised in the states, so he speaks perfect English. “You’ve brought some financial dissention with your return. I’m glad you’re back safe, but you’ve spooked the buyers, now I’m stuck with a shitload of wine. I can’t push it off on the local drunk, let alone my vendors.”

  Before Mitch can refute his unintentional pocket poison, the rest of the crowd breaks into a soft hum of agreement.

  “The Townsend Shepherd name has turned into a farce.” It comes from a beady-eyed woman from the Netherlands. Her wiry hair sits on her head like a bird’s nest. “I’d recommend you cease your attempt in fusing the two labels, but it’s too late, the barrels of Shepherd have been tainted in the tabloids. No offense.” She nods over at Candi. “You’ve officially dubbed Shepherd the porn wine of the 21st century. People associate your once good label with adult entertainment. What are you doing to cure the situation?”

  Candi clears her throat.

  She’s the infection, and I guarantee the only cure is to cut both she and Hudson out of my life.

  “I have a book coming out in the spring.” She taps her chest. “While I’m not proud of what I’ve done, I do feel privileged enough to have built a platform to further myself and my new Shepherd family.” She holds up her hand, sporting a nice pebbled-sized diamond.

  Hudson never mentioned they were engaged.

  “So you’re making it official?” Lee juts her neck out nervously.

  “Actually”—Candi looks over at Hudson—“we’ve done the deed. We’re just keeping things low key for now until things, you know, die down.”

  “Did you have a prenup?” Johan asks as his forehead erupts with concern.

  “Hell no.” Candi is genuinely insulted. Her whole person ignites three shades of red, and she looks like she’s been dipped in blood. “It’s not true love in my book if you have to do that.” She bats her lashes over at my sorry excuse for a brother. “What we got is gonna last forever.”

  The meeting turns somber as talk of buybacks of unsold shipments ensue, and my personal favorite, severing ties to decrease legal fees they might incur. It’s a fuck fest, and TS is taking it up the ass from every angle. It’s a funeral. Everything Lee and I built, my father, Mitch and his dad—it’s all been flushed away because of the rotten apple that fell from the Shepherd family tree. I tune out the rest of the meeting until one by one I shake their hands and thank them for coming as they scramble out the door. Lee sounds like she’s giving a eulogy as she says goodbye.

  I wait until I hear the last of their footsteps disappear down the hall before ramming Hudson up against the wall.

  “You piece of shit.” I jerk my knee into his groin so fast I send his balls clear up his throat. “Congratulations.” I rattle him by the shirt. “You have single handedly dismantled a fucking empire it took Dad years to build. And you took it down in minutes! Is she worth it? Because I predict whatever little bit we do manage to hang onto, you’re going to end up losing one day.”

  “You think you’re it don’t you?” Hudson’s eyes bulge unnaturally before a surge of aggression spikes in him. “You never make a mistake, and nothing ever sticks.” He twists his fists into my collar and gives a hard shove. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret that everyone in this room knows but you. Your little princess—the woman you idolize like some kind of glass goddess—she slept with good ole’ Colty boy the night before your wedding. You got that? She begged him to pretend he was Mitch.” He smirks. “I bet she asks you that all the time.” He hawks back a mouthful and sprays my face with piss-colored phlegm. He and Candi race out the door like the building were on fire.

  I wipe down and catch a glimpse of Mitch as he shakes his head with a silent apology. He knew. I look to Colt, and he crosses his arms. He drops his gaze to the carpet while his face bleaches out.

  Shit.

  “Max.” Lee comes up from behind with her eyes lit up like sparks, her lips trembling.

  Fuck.

  She did it.

  I speed out into the hall.

  “Max, wait,” she calls, but I bolt down the stairwell so fast she can’t keep up.

  The truth spilled out as honest as a bullet.

  Looks like nobody else wanted me in on their dirty little secret.

  19

  Carnal Affections

  Lee

  I want to close all the windows, make the light of the world disappear forever. Max took off after Hudson ripped into him, told him things I wish he never knew. But that look he gave me, it was a poison arrow—fire and acid, everything I’ve ever felt from him in reverse. In that moment he hated me, and, now, he probably always will.

  I’ve no clue where Mitch went. I came straight home to an empty house and ran upstairs.

  I pull out my wedding albums from the closet, both of them, side by side, and force myself to digest them for the rest of the afternoon.

  I open each to the first page—Mitch and me—Max and me. I’m so happy in these timeless stills, so in love it’s unfair. The only difference in those days was Mitch. His notable absence was the turbulence of my soul the day I married Max. But Max knew how to soothe me. He kis
sed me right there on the altar when my mind started to wander. I never doubted for a minute that I shouldn’t be with Max. At that moment I didn’t care if it would kill Mitch all over again if he knew I was with him. Max was what I wanted—what I needed. I knew he wouldn’t leave me—that he wouldn’t go to another country if I asked him not to. Our lives were perfect in every way.

  I thumb through the pictures of Mitch. Young Mitch. He looks aged now compared to all those years ago. Max, too. In the short time we’ve been married, he’s taken on far too much. Townsend is enough of a headache on its own, let alone Shepherd. I dragged him down with all my dead weight. God knows his brother did him no favors. He must feel so alone, hated, maligned. We all did this to him, but I was the arrow that lodged in his heart.

  I give him a call, but he doesn’t pick up. Crap. I’ll be lucky if Max ever speaks to me again.

  I close the albums and slide them to the edge of the bed. Of all the people I knew when I married Mitch, the only person missing from the guest list was Max, and from the second wedding it was Mitch who was gone. There’s a built-in irony in there somewhere, but I can’t grasp it.

  “Hey, beautiful.” Max lights up the door like an angel—a savior. He gives a slow spreading smile as he comes over and sits besides me.

  “You’re home!” I fall over him with a tight embrace, just taking in his scent. “I never want to be without you. And I mean that.”

  “You know I love you.” Max presses a heated kiss into my hair. “What’s going on?” He nods over to the wedding albums, and his cheek slides up on one side, no smile.

  “I don’t know where Hudson heard that,” I start. “But he didn’t have the facts straight.”

  “Just tell me you were drunk, Lee,” it comes out soft, broken, as if he had already considered all of the options, and he liked this one best.

  I close my eyes. “I was drunk,” I bury my face in his shirt and take in the warmth from his chest, feel the beating of his heart, quick and erratic. “God, I’m so sorry. And, I know—I know there aren’t enough apologies in this lifetime to convey how sorry I am.”

  “Come here.” He pulls me up next to him and buries a kiss over my head.

  “Can you ever forgive me?” There are so many things I need to beg forgiveness for. This is just the tip of the dirty iceberg.

  “Of course, I forgive you.” He presses his lips high up on my cheek and doesn’t let go. He sighs into me like he’s ready to fall asleep and bypass this insanity by way of a nap. “Lee, I know you went through something incredibly heartbreaking when you thought you lost Mitch. I know it’s equally hard for you now. And I just want you to know I’m here for you. I really do want to support you. I want to help get you through this, Lee.” Max bears into me with those cobalt spheres. “But I won’t lie. I still want to be the last man standing.”

  I pull him in and nod. “Thank you so much for loving me the way you do.” I tighten my grip around his waist. “And I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”

  “I could never hate you.” He drops another kiss on the top of my head.

  “Have you missed me?” In every way I’ve missed Max. These past thirty days felt more like thirty years. Max is everything, and I need him. And I need him to be more than a friend in my life.

  “Yes, I missed you. I missed you with an indescribable ache.” He bows down and inhales the scent from my hair as his breath warms my scalp. I never want this moment to end. It feels safe, natural like this in his arms. “He tried to change things, Lee.” His voice breaks. “He kept us apart.”

  “It didn’t work, did it?” I glance up at him. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe he did that.”

  “It was dirty. I should have played dirty. I should roll him in the dirt now for posterity.”

  “You know…” I place my hand on his chest and feel his heart thump over my palm. “Just between you and me, I felt something for you even after you came home from that trip. And when you didn’t show any interest I figured maybe it was a one-sided thing, so I stayed with Mitch. But I’ve always felt something for you, Max.”

  He soaks in my gaze, absorbs my words like an elixir right into his cellular structure. “Always?”

  “Always.” I push a kiss just below his ear. “It could have been us from the beginning,” I whisper the words like a secret as if I were somehow blaming everything that’s happened on Mitch and his underhanded dealings with destiny.

  “What’s important is that it’s the two of us in the end,” he says.

  I tighten my grip around him as if the house, Mono, the world were about to blow away.

  That’s exactly what I want—right along with Mitch.

  “Come here.” Max lands us on the mattress with our heads on the pillows. “Let me hold you, Lee.”

  I snuggle into Max and we fall asleep in one another’s arms.

  Just like old times.

  Just like it’s supposed to be.

  Max is still asleep well into the evening. The kids are spending the night at Janice’s, where I assume Mitch has been all day, so I take Kat up on her dinner invite.

  “I’m pulling an intervention,” she says, before plunging a slice of pizza into her mouth. The restaurant is full, so we sit at the bar, but Kat has managed to amass a plethora of appetizers that keep coming at a steady pace. Kat’s huge midsection acts as a barrier between us because, apparently, she can no longer belly up to the bar. She holds out a slice of pizza toward me, and I shake my head at the offer.

  “Look at us.” I say, hovering over my virgin daiquiri. “Two pregnant women at a bar.”

  “We’re the opening line to some really lame joke.”

  “That about sums up my life.”

  “Stop.” Her mouth falls open with a mouth full of food, and I turn my head away to keep from puking.

  “You ready for the whole baby shower thing?” I slide my daiquiri in her direction. They’ve already refilled her soda three times. They can’t keep up with her. “I’ll help you pick out whatever you need. And, I’ve got the entire town on speed dial. We can do a real blowout if you want.”

  “No blowout. The only thing that’s blowing out is me. I look like a whale. The last thing I want is to be the center of attention. I’ll just get what I need—as I need it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Very. Although, I am open to accepting gifts from my wealthy sister.”

  “Done.”

  “So”—she glances down at her last slice of pizza—“rumor has it Max looked like he wanted to take a chainsaw to your head.”

  “Not true. Mostly he looked like he wanted a really long nap on the bed he hasn’t slept on in over a month.”

  “Poor Max.”

  “Poor Max,” I echo

  “Lee?” Her eyes widen at something just beyond my shoulder. I try to turn, but she snatches me by the wrist. “I want to ask you something.” She’s intent on keeping my focus, so I play along. “What if they dated? You know, Mitch and Max.”

  “They are dating—each other.” I struggle to turn, but she secures me with her newfound superhuman strength. “What’s going on?”

  “So what if they did?” Her eyes enlarge like silver dollars, and that’s never a good sign. It takes a hell of a lot to shock the pants off my sister. “You know, meet friends for drinks?”

  “I guess that’d be okay.” Viv pops into my head. She’d swallow Max whole if he let her.

  Her face contorts in a series of horrified expressions. “Um…Lee? Friends for drinks at three o’clock.”

  Friends for drinks.

  I spin around and spot Mitch with one of Colt’s hussies. Her amber hair falls like a curtain, and her lips shine like glass as she breaks out into a laugh.

  Oh, God.

  It’s happening. I’m losing Mitch. He waited and waited, and now he wants nothing more than drinks with friends at three o’ clock.

  My insides pinch sharp as an ice pick—my intestines twist in a ball of fire.

 
How could he?

  I’m going to kill Colt with my bare hands for facilitating the effort. The tramp and her lava-like hair, her thin arms slithering over his chair, his shirt. She runs her finger along the rim of his glass like a promise.

  “Slow down, girl.” Kat pulls me back in my seat. I hadn’t even realized I levitated out of it. “You’ve got fire in your eyes and steam coming from your ears. Pull it together.” She takes a breath before evicting me out of the barstool. “Now go kick her bony little ass.”

  My feet move swiftly without my permission. Every ounce of me wants to run and hide, but my body wants the exact brand of hostile revenge that Kat just prescribed.

  It feels like a dream walking over to them. The little tramp slips her hand over his back and gives a light scratch like she’s done it a thousand times before. The waitress sets down an oversized tray of drinks in my path, and I don’t hesitate to knock it out of my way—filling the air with the violent sound of shattering glass. I ignore the shout from the waitress, the gasp of the patrons, and just keep walking, garnering Mitch’s attention in the interim.

  “Lee?” He jumps out of his seat, startled by my destructive display. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

  The girl springs up beside him, clutching at her purse in the event she needs to make a quick getaway, and I’m betting she will.

  “I’m fine, Mitch.” I stride past him and give her a nice hard shove in the chest.

  “Lee,” he barks it out with marked aggression and locks my wrists behind my back. “You’re going to get yourself arrested.” He pulls me in and holds me, but really he’s restraining me, penning me in with all of his strength in the event the threat of a prison term meant little to me. “Hana are you okay?”

  She shoots him a look that could slice through diamonds while muttering something in an unfamiliar language. In one swift move she sloshes a glass of water in my face before bolting for the exit.