by Megan Hart
“Steve’s been bothering you?”
She shrugged, not wanting to admit how Steve still managed to get under her skin. She’d managed to ignore him for a week, until he sent her flowers and an apology. She hated the flowers and didn’t believe for a second he was sorry about anything, but dammit, she didn’t want him doing anything to the beach house she didn’t know about.
The past two days it had been nitpickery of the highest order. He was all over her about changing the rental management company, claiming they were the reason he’d needed to break the window. He wanted to fire Joe. He wanted to raise the summer rental rates and offer more weeks, which would mean less time there for both of them even if it meant more income. It was stupid stuff, pointless and done solely, she knew, to get under her skin. He’d also started needling her about updating the decor.
“Tell him to take a long walk off a short pier,” Mark suggested. “That’s what I told my last ex-wife when she wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Colleen frowned. “It’s not that simple, and you know it.”
Mark could be arrogant and wacky and inappropriate; he was also incredibly astute. “Come into my office.”
“I have a client at four—”
“Now.”
With a sigh, Colleen followed him into his office, where he waved her onto one of the weirdly squishy chairs in front of his desk. She cupped her mug in both hands, warming them. With the harsh winter they’d been having, Mark’s office had become almost impossible to keep above sixty-five degrees.
“Look. What’s it gonna take for you to boot him out of your life altogether? Get moving on? Start dating, for crying out loud? Beautiful woman like you, sleeping alone? No bueno. I’d have a go at you myself if I didn’t think it would get us both in all kinds of trouble.”
“Totally inappropriate,” Colleen scolded, but she smiled.
“So quit.” Mark sat back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk, his hands behind his head. “Walk out. Leave me and all this behind. Forge onward!”
She’d thought about quitting more than once, though she knew there was no way she would. Mark had given her this job when she needed to escape from a bad situation, and he’d done it to help her, not because she was qualified. No matter how she’d proven herself in the interim, she could never forget that.
“You don’t need me, you know,” Mark said. “You could go work anywhere.”
His words touched that soft and rotten place inside her that shamed her even as it formed a big part of her core. Her smile faded. “I know that.”
“This is a terrible place to work.”
It wasn’t. It was weird, and Mark was hard to work for sometimes, but she’d had worse jobs. She shook her head in silence.
“Steve’s an asshole, Colleen.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Mark stared at her, saying nothing. Colleen stared back. No way was she going to tell him about Jesse. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged it out of her.
“I met someone,” Colleen said.
Mark grinned. “I knew it! Tell Uncle Marky all about it. Is he a strong, powerful businessman with a penchant for rooms painted like cherries?”
“Um, no.” Colleen shivered as she thought of how Jesse had knelt for her, then got herself under control. She gave Mark a stern look. “And you’re not my uncle.”
“Doctor? Lawyer?”
“No!” She shook her head, trying not to laugh because that would only encourage him, and dammit, Mark could be totally out of line and completely nuts, but he was damned good at getting to the heart of things.
“He’s a professor. You always did like the smarty-pants types.”
“No.” She paused, then with a sigh, owned up. “He’s a bartender.”
Mark steepled his fingertips below his chin. “Ah. That’s quite a departure for you.”
“Don’t you judge him for being a bartender!”
“Are you sure you’re not judging him for being a bartender?” Colleen’s mouth closed with an audible snap. Mark grinned again. He shook a finger at her. “Ah, ah, ah. It’s not what a man does. It’s who he is that matters.”
“I don’t know who he is. Just that he’s a bartender. And he’s younger. And if you call me a cougar, I swear I will jump across that desk and throttle you with your own tie.”
Mark frowned. “So violent.”
Colleen sniffed and sipped her terrible coffee.
“I’d never call you a cougar. That’s entirely too predatory. And something tells me this younger guy, this bartender, pursued you.”
Heat flooded her at the memory of it. She put her mug on the desk and linked her fingers together. “It was mutual.”
“He made you feel something.” Mark shook a finger again. “I can tell.”
“It was nothing. There was nothing, it was just...a weekend thing, we were snowed in. I was upset about Steve, and I went to the bar, and it was just... It just happened. That’s all. And then a few times after that.”
“And you’re still seeing him?”
“Oh. No.”
It was all over now. She’d let herself get too close too fast. She’d let herself miss Jesse and want him. And he’d known it, too, because she’d admitted it.
“You needed me,” Jesse had said.
And it had been true.
“You’re stupid,” Mark said flatly. “This guy blew your skirt up in a major way.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“You didn’t have to. I’ve known you for what, fifteen years now? And in all that time, I’ve never heard you so much as whisper the mention of another man’s name besides that asshole ex-husband.” Mark shrugged and recrossed his feet. “So this guy must’ve done something right.”
Jesse had done everything right, that was the problem.
“Can I get back to work now?”
“Not until you tell me what it was about this guy that got you so flustered.” Mark flicked a glance toward the office door. “Then you can go make me more money.”
Colleen sighed and rubbed gently at the spot between her eyes for a second, unwilling to put into words what she’d been avoiding thinking about since leaving Jesse’s apartment. Mark wouldn’t let it go. And there was something about confession being good for the soul, right?
“He was really accommodating. Really sweet. And he seemed to know how to... He liked to... I mean, he was okay with me being... Shit.”
Mark’s feet hit the floor with a thump and he leaned forward, face serious. “Spill it.”
“Maybe Steve’s right, that’s all.” Colleen swallowed bitterness at the admission.
“About you needing to control everything?”
It burned that Mark knew that, but she nodded.
He snorted derision. “The guy who’s trying to force you into putting up tacky copper schools of fish in every room of your condo is still trying to tell you that you’re the one with control issues?”
“What were you doing, listening to my conversation?” Colleen fought for outrage but narrowly missed it.
“The whole office could hear you. The walls in here are shit.” Mark shook his head, mock sorrow all over his face that faded into a stern look. “Listen up. All Steve knows is how to be bitter, bitter and more bitter because you didn’t want spend the rest of your life catering to his every whim.”
“He’s not wrong about me, Mark. I do like things a certain way. I do like to be in charge.”
“And?” Mark demanded, and waited for her to answer. When she didn’t, he sneered. “Any man who can’t deal with a strong, capable woman who knows her own mind doesn’t deserve her. The truth is, and listen to your Uncle Marky on this one, Steve was too intimidated by you. He was scared of you. And that’s his problem, not yours. If this bartender gave you a good time, where’s the harm?”
“I liked being with him.”
“That’s the way it works, Colleen. You meet someone. You hit it off. You like them—”
“I assumed so.”
She made a face at his lecherous expression. “No. I mean, other things. He fixed my fireplace and shoveled out my car. I started to like him. And when we didn’t talk, I missed him. And I didn’t want to get used to him being there, to needing him.”
There is was, out in the open, sounding so stupid she couldn’t believe she’d admitted it. She pressed her lips together, thinking of all the times Steve had done or said things to convince her she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself. Of how he’d done worse things than that to keep her dependent on him. Needing him.
“I didn’t want to be what Steve said I was.”
Mark got up then and came around to sit on the edge of the desk in front of her. “Colleen, you could never be what Steve said you are. Not ever.”
Her shoulders slumped. She didn’t want to cry in Mark’s office, though she’d certainly had more than a few breakdowns in there. Not for a couple years, though. She didn’t want to backslide. When her boss put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, Colleen let out a long, slow sigh.
“Look,” Mark said. “My brother is a giant dick of the highest order. He gets it from our father, who was the king of Megadick Mountain. Some people, Steve included, I’m sure, think his behavior is excusable because of how we were raised, but the truth is, you either let that shit weigh you down forever, or you get over it and make something of your life that’s not broken because of what your parents did to you. My brother is a douche with control issues and a drinking problem, and he treated you terribly, and I’m sorry. But the longer you let him make you feel like shit about who you are because he feels that way about himself, the longer you have to deal with feeling like shit. Get out there and get what you want, Colleen.”
She gave him a small, hard smile. “Is that your version of a pep talk?”
“So I won’t win any awards for motivational speaking.” Mark shrugged and went back to his chair. “But you know I’m right.”
She stared at him for half a minute before nodding. “Yeah. I know you’re right.”
“So tell him that. Apologize if you have to, eat crow. Get on your knees and beg him for another chance.” Mark narrowed his eyes, looking her over. “Or make him get on his, if that’s your flavor. But whatever you do, don’t let him walk out of your life.”
“He didn’t walk out. I threw him out.” The admission rasped on her tongue, the truth barbed.
Mark shrugged. “Then admit you were stupid and go after him. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I could want him and need him, and he could let me down.” Saying it out loud sounded so dumb she had to laugh. “But I already want him.”
“So, let yourself need him, too.”
Colleen sighed. “I’m not very good at letting go.”
Mark leaned forward on the desk. “Take your Uncle Marky’s advice, Colleen. Get better at it.”
Chapter Eleven
The paperwork had all been put into place. The amount of the loan that she’d thought so daunting was the price of freedom, and you couldn’t put a price on that, could you? All of it had taken only two weeks to put together. Colleen tapped the papers neatly together and slipped them into the folder, capped her fountain pen and slipped it into the soft felt case, then tucked it into her purse. She straightened, smoothing her skirt and brushing off her blouse, then patted her hair into place.
She was ready to kick some ass.
“You did something different with your hair,” Steve said when she sat down at the table. “I liked it better the other way.”
Colleen had never liked this restaurant, which was why she’d agreed to come here. At least nothing that happened today could ruin it for her. “I’m sure you did.”
“You changed the color? What?”
“I haven’t done anything to it, Steve. That’s why it’s different. I haven’t done anything to it.” No cut, perm, color, highlights, nothing. Colleen took a calming breath. This wasn’t about her hair. She slid the folder across the table to him. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Over with? C’mon, something to eat. The pasta here’s great. Remember?” Steve gave her what she was sure was meant to be a winning grin, but it left her unmoved. And the glint in his eyes that used to make her anxious left her just as unconcerned.
She’d changed. She pushed the folder with her fingertips. “I don’t care for anything, thank you. I’d like to go over this stuff with you and get out of here. I’ve got things to do.”
Steve sat and stared at her, not touching the folder. In fact, he’d recoiled from it, as though it were covered in slime. He took a long drink from his glass of ice water.
“What is this?”
“I’d like to buy you out of the beach property.” Colleen folded her hands in her lap. “I’ve pulled together all the financials on it and I’ve prepared an offer that I think is more than fair.”
“You can’t afford to buy me out. You need me to be able to afford it.” He said it so smugly, so arrogantly, that if it weren’t for the flash of genuine fear in his eyes, Colleen would’ve hated him.
As it was, for the first time in dealing with him, instead of anger or fear, Colleen felt some pity for Steve. “I can, actually. You don’t have to accept my offer, certainly, but if you don’t, you’re going to have to buy me out. I’m willing to take the same agreement.”
“You can’t give up the condo. You love the beach too much.”
If he bought her out, she could buy another condo, or even a cute bungalow. “I do love the beach, Steve, but I don’t love sharing it with you. And I don’t want to do it any longer. You’ve made every part of owning this property an utter hell. Kind of like our marriage.”
His jaw dropped. Colleen was shocked she’d said it, too, but once the words were out, it was as though each of them had been a brick stacked up on her shoulders and speaking them aloud had knocked them all to the ground. Her hands twisted, fingers tangling in her lap.
“Let me buy you out,” she said. “You don’t want that condo, not really. You only kept it as a way to control me.”
His reaction showed her that she’d made a point. A really sharp one, and it had poked him someplace tender. He still didn’t open the folder.
“You can’t afford it,” he repeated, with less assurance. “You...you need me.”
Colleen smiled. “I assure you, I can. And I don’t. But that’s really not your business, is it?”
“I don’t want to see you get yourself in trouble, that’s all.”
“I’m not your problem anymore, Steve.”
They stared at each other across the table, and in that moment, it wasn’t difficult for her to remember that once upon a time, a long time ago, she’d looked at this man with love in her eyes. A lot had come between them since then. She would never love him again. But she didn’t have to let what had happened between them define her any longer.
Angrily, he flipped open the folder and thumbed through the pages. His shoulders slumped as he went over everything she’d put together. The layout of the financials, the division of items in the property, the amount she was prepared to offer up front and the timetable for the two additional lump sum payments she’d planned for.
“You’ve done a lot of work on this.”
She nodded. Steve sighed and flipped through more pages. There wasn’t much else to see. She’d made all of it as straight-forward as possible. He could keep most of the furnishings and decorative items, and she’d pay him slightly over half of what they still owed on the property. Still, she wouldn’t have put it past him to argue with her about it. Or even flat out refuse.
“I never liked that place. Everything’s damp all the time. And it’s cheap, shoddy construction. And the town is shit. If I want a vacation place, I’m going to get one in the Caribbean.”
“You’ll be able to do whatever you want,” Colleen said.
Steve
frowned. “I don’t have a pen.”
“I have one.”
She passed him one she had ready from her purse. Not the fountain pen, but a cheap stick pen that, sure enough, he tucked into his pocket when he’d finished. She didn’t even think he did it on purpose, it was just Steve’s habit to consider everything he touched to be his. He shoved the folder back toward her.
It was her turn not to touch it. It had been a huge step for her, the last step toward completely breaking free of Steve and their marriage. The money situation was definitely nerve-racking, even though she’d run the numbers a couple dozen times and knew she could do it.
She could do all of this.
“Thanks,” she told him sincerely. “This means a lot to me. Thank you.”
“Don’t come crying to me when you’re defaulting on your loan and can’t pay the mortgage on that hipster row house you bought. I told you not to,” Steve added. “Fell’s Point isn’t any place for anyone to really live.”
Colleen smiled. “I love it there.”
“Well. It’s just...fine.” Steve drained his glass of ice water. “You want to drink to it?”
It was a test to see if she’d encourage him. So he could blame her for falling off the wagon. “No, thanks.”
“Still uptight, huh?” His grin, all teeth, had no humor in it.
But instead of being stung, Colleen only smiled a little wider. She took the folder and double-checked that all the signatures were where they belonged, then stood and tucked the folder under her arm. She didn’t offer her hand. He wouldn’t have taken it, anyway.
“Good luck, Steve. Take care.”
He called after her, as she knew he would. Loud, belligerent, not caring that he turned heads. Convinced he was charming enough that everyone was chuckling along with him instead of shaking their heads in disapproval. But though he shouted her name a few times, increasingly louder and more strident, Colleen didn’t turn around.
* * *
Another Thursday night, but Jesse didn’t bother looking up to see if Colleen was going to walk through the Angel’s door. She wasn’t going to. And even if she did come into the bar to sit at that same stool and not drink that same glass of whiskey, why should it matter to him? She’d made it clear enough that she wasn’t interested in anything to do with him.
