After The Break

by Andrea Joan

“What’d you say to me, Winter?” Carl moves toward her, but I shoot my hand out to stop him from going any further. Carl instantly slaps it away.

  “Stop it! All of you,” Skylar shouts, stepping out from behind me and placing herself between Carl and me. “You’re right, Carl. I’m sorry I didn’t call. If you want to meet with Steve about Jeff then let’s just go and get this over with. Liam, Winter, I’ll see you in a while, okay?” she announces then glances over at Winter. “Winter, will you help Liam get settled, please?”

  “He’s staying here, Skylar?” Carl shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. “Jesus, I had no idea I raised you to be so damn stupid!”

  “Don’t call her stupid, jackass,” I snap as I start to move toward him. Skylar pushes her weight into me in warning, stopping me from going any further.

  “Or what, boy?” Carl snarls.

  She uses her shoulder to push even harder into me as I try to move forward again. I could blaze past her no problem, slam Carl’s face into the kitchen counter, and watch as he bleeds through his disgusting fucking mouth, but I won’t. I can’t. I want Skylar more than I want to hurt him right now, and I have no idea how to process this. It’s like I’m fighting against my own nature and I don’t know if I’m winning or losing.

  “Let’s go, Carl,” Sky says, walking up to him. She puts her hands on his shoulders and turns him toward the door. “Go to the car. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Carl stomps out of the kitchen and heads toward the door, cursing the entire way. Skylar takes a deep breath and starts to follow, but I reach for her arm and gently pull her back to me. “Skylar, I don’t want you going anywhere alone with him. Let me take you, or at the very least come with you.”

  Skylar puts her hands on my chest, flashing me a smile that I know is meant to put me at ease, but the smile is fucking fake. I know it. I’ve seen her real smile, the one that reaches her eyes and lights up her face, and while she may fool some with her acting, I fucking know better.

  “I’m fine, Liam,” she says grabbing my hand. I move it from under hers and wrap it around her wrist. Her pulse is racing. She is far from fine. Whatever the fuck fine means anyway.

  “He’s my father, my manager, and it’s a lot of responsibility for him, and it puts him on edge sometimes. I don’t make it easy for him to handle me either. But he won’t hurt me.”

  Her pulse jumps. I feel it in the tips of my fingers. A lie.

  “And he’s right,” she continues. “I have to go to this meeting. I’ve been putting it off for too long.” Skylar pulls her hand from my grasp and starts to back away. She waves goodbye to Winter and walks through the solarium and out the front door.

  “This isn’t right,” I say, starting after her only to feel Winter’s hand on my arm, pulling me back. I shake it off instinctively and with force.

  “Let this go, Liam. Trust me. Skylar can handle herself when it comes to him.”

  “I can’t believe that was her father. Does he treat her that way all the time?” I ask, my hands clenched tightly, aching, wanting to hit something. The only thing I can do to calm my nerves is pace. Keep moving. Work the adrenaline out.

  “How do you think he earned the name The Devil, love? And this is one of his better days.”

  Fuck. It gets worse than that? “Why would she put up with his bullshit? She doesn’t deserve that. Christ, what kind of father calls their daughter a bitch?” I’m so incensed by the whole scene that just went down that the only thing I can do is place my hands on the kitchen island, lean my head down, and fucking try and breathe.

  “Sheesh…oh boy,” Winter says, putting her chin in her hands and collapsing into a kitchen chair. “What is going on between you two, Liam?”

  I jerk back up, standing tall, as Winter sits in the chair calm as can be, staring right the fuck at me. No, not at me. Through me.

  “Nothing,” I say defensively. “Skylar hired me to take care of her, and that’s all I’m doing.”

  “No, you were hired as a bodyguard, her security. There’s a difference. I’m not blind, love. I saw the two of you during the tour of the house. You looked like a high school couple the day after losing their virginity on prom night. Grabbing and teasing each other, you caressing her face. Not to mention the constant hand holding. The Skylar Barrett I know hates being touched. I barely get away with hugging her. And imagine my shock when you call her baby and she doesn’t immediately knee you in the balls. Jesus, Cassiel never even dared to drop that on her.”

  I’m really fucking sick of hearing Cassiel’s name.

  “Nothing is going on between us.” I hope that seems more believable to Winter than it does to me.

  Winter groans and curses under her breath. “Noah warned me, but I just thought he was being a drama queen as per his M.O.” She is speaking quietly like she’s talking to herself. About me. It’s fucking annoying.

  “You realize I’m still in the room, right? And Noah warned you about what?”

  She lifts her head up and looks me directly in the eyes. “How long are you planning to stick around, Liam? Are you going to be here long term, is there a time frame here? Did you and Skylar discuss any of this?”

  “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”

  “Skylar is my business, Liam. Noah’s too. We don’t just work for her. We’re family. Look, I’m not trying to give you crap or pry, it’s just…Skylar, she’s different than us.”

  “Right,” I say, scrubbing my hand over my face as I start to laugh. Not the genuine laughter I give to Sky but the you can fuck right off laughter I’ve perfected over years of telling people…well…that they can fuck right off. “Is this the part where you tell me she’s too good for some low-life bartender who barely scrapes by? Because if it is, I gotta caution you, I have a pretty low fucking tolerance for cliché warnings, especially from people that know dick about me.”

  Winter sits back in her chair a fraction and her eyes go wide with amusement. “Wow. Jump to conclusions much? Also, I really didn’t figure you for a hypocrite.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask, needing clarification on what the hell is fucking going on right now.

  “You essentially just accused me of pre-judging you which in and of itself is a pre-judgment against me. You said I know dick about you. Well, newsflash, you know dick about me! I come from Hollywood royalty, O’Connor. My grandpa is one of the biggest movie producers in the business. My dad has directed more Oscar winners than I can remember, and my mom, she’s an oil heiress. Believe me, when I tell you that Skylar is not like us, I’m not comparing bank accounts. Hell, my trust fund alone makes her net worth look like a thirteen-year-old’s bank account after his bar mitzvah.”

  “I’m not really even sure what that odd fucking analogy means, but I’m guessing you are trying to tell me you have more money than she does. So if your vague comment wasn’t about my social standing, then what are you trying to tell me here?”

  “Look, I’m really impressed with how you stood up to Carl just now, not to mention grateful. Skylar doesn’t have many people brave enough to stick up for her like that, especially when it comes to him, and that gives you points in my book.”

  “I couldn’t be more fucking pleased,” I deadpan. I’m being an asshole, but I’ve already exerted what little patience I have in waiting for her to get to the fucking point. This is Sky’s friend, though, so I should probably try and dial it back. “You going to say what you have to say anytime fucking soon?”

  Well, I tried. Shockingly, Winter laughs. “I see why she likes you, O’Connor. What I’m saying is even though I’m impressed with you, I don’t know you. See, Skylar has a tendency to be erratic and completely impulsive when it comes to making decisions, and that can be dangerous. But sometimes her recklessness pays off. I’m undecided yet as to which category you fall under. And I get that Skylar thinks she trusts you, but I’m not sure I do, which means I can’t tell you exactly what I mean when I say she’s not like us, and really, it isn’t my s
tory to tell.”

  That’s fucking helpful.

  “What I can say is that you need to be observant of her. Skylar has a lot of light in her, but she also has a lot of dark. You should be warned so that you can decide if this is something you are willing to deal with.”

  “Care to expand on that?”

  “No, not really. Give me your phone.”

  “What?”

  “Your phone. Give it to me,” she demands, leaving her chair to stand next to me.

  I reluctantly pull my phone out of my back pocket and hand it to her. She slides her finger over the screen and begins to type.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’m fucking giving you my number. If you need my help with her or notice a change in her behavior that worries you, shoot me a text. Or call me.”

  This whole cloak and dagger routine annoys the shit out of me, but what’s more annoying is I fucking get it. Winter is being loyal to her friend while still trying to make sure she is looked after, and as desperately as I want to know what the hell she’s talking about, I won’t push. I respect Winter for not telling me Sky’s secrets, and I would rather hear them from her anyway. And fuck me if now I’m not finding myself wanting to prove myself to Winter.

  “I like her,” I admit. Like that will somehow give me permission from Winter to be around Sky. It’s really eating me up that I suddenly crave her approval.

  “I know.”

  “I won’t bail on her just because she isn’t sunshine and roses all the fucking time.” When Winter said Skylar wasn’t like us she didn’t realize she was still being judgmental. Winter doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know that I am only darkness. That I’ve not seen light in a long time so nothing Skylar does will ever scare me away.

  “We’ll see.”

  Yeah. We will.

  “Why do you work for her anyway? You have all this fucking money, you seem fairly intelligent, and you probably have a lot of other things you could be doing with your life. Why spend your days working as her assistant?” I don’t know why I ask this other than I am really wondering why, maybe because I’m just curious as to how all the puzzle pieces of Sky’s life fit together.

  “Fairly intelligent? Geez, O’Connor. If you keep up with the compliments you’re gonna make me blush,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I work for her probably for the same reason you decided to work for her. Skylar Barrett has a gift for making the few people she lets into her world feel like they have a purpose, that their mere presence is a necessity, and having that feeling is like a high that you never have to come down from. Especially for people like us, Liam. People that need that approval.”

  I let those words sink in for a minute before appreciating how true they are, and then I feel like someone sucker punched me once they settle because I’ve come to two realizations: One, Skylar may not have any feelings for me, not like I have for her. I could have misread this entire fucking situation. She may just see me as someone that can protect her, someone she needs for a very specific reason. Giving me a purpose in her life. I may be floating in the same boat as Winter, both of us latching on to our need to be needed so we don’t drown in a sea of self-condemnation. And the second realization, the only one that seems to matter right now, is that I don’t fucking care because Winter is right. It’s a high I will never come down from, and if this is all Skylar is willing to give me, it’s enough.

  THE DRIVE TO MY attorney’s office in Beverly Hills only takes twenty minutes but it may as well be hours. A thunderous silence fills the car as neither one of us speaks, or even looks, at each other. I know my father well enough to understand that his silence is more terrifying than his verbal outbursts. I don’t dare move a muscle, I just train my gaze outside the passenger window, watching my timid breath fog the window, then dissipate across the glass.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  My mind is running a million miles a minute conjuring up all the scenarios that could play out. Granted, Carl has rarely hit me in the last ten years, not since I was cast as Mandy Mayhem and he realized that bruises would show on camera, that the people doing my makeup would notice and start asking questions. But rarely is not never, and when pushed too far he has been known to release all that pent-up anger he holds back in a very painful way. The times he has slapped me or kicked me or grabbed me just a little too hard start to play through my head, lending momentum to my growing anxiety. And guilt. Guilt that I lied to Liam. That I looked him directly in the eyes and swore to him that my father wouldn’t hurt me when I know damn well what Carl is capable of.

  But I just couldn’t tell him. Liam was clearly pissed at Carl’s words alone, and I’ve had a front row seat to what Liam is capable of. Hell, it’s why I hired him. If he knew the truth, he would never have let me walk out the door, and what scared me the most is that he may have reacted with violence, giving my calculating, manipulative ass of a father just the ammo he needs to make sure Liam stays away from me for good. The thought of Liam leaving terrifies me. It shouldn’t; he’s barely been in my life, but I like him in it. His rough touch, his deeply melodic voice, the way he seems determined to look after me—I want it. Need it. Crave it. Never having had a sense of security or even a taste of true intimacy has made me greedy for anything Liam O’Connor is willing to provide.

  “Steve cleared his schedule for you today, Skylar.” Carl’s voice interrupts my thoughts and I realize we have finally made it to Steve’s office as he pulls into the parking garage of his swanky Beverly Hills office. “Try and show him more respect than you’ve shown me. And don’t think for a fucking second that I’m going to forget what happened today. We will be discussing that later,” he warns, throwing the parking brake on. He exits the car without even glancing in my direction, making sure to slam the door behind him.

  “Whatever you say, Carl,” I say to a now empty vehicle. I take my seatbelt off and get out of the car, making sure to maintain a safe distance between us.

  He’s waiting for me in the elevator, his gaze menacing, and I sneak a peek at the door leading to the stairway. I want to escape, but I know if I choose that route I’ll just make things worse for myself. So I walk slowly into the elevator, willingly accepting my fate. Seconds after the elevator doors close I feel the same dangerously unyielding hand that gently pushed the fifth-floor button seconds ago on the back of neck, grasping me crudely.

  “Skylar,” he spits my name out in warning, his hold tightening. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but if I were you I would watch the way you talk to me. Especially since your new little bodyguard isn’t here to protect you. Don’t forget who got you where you are today, and rest assured, I can take it all away if you push me.”

  “I’m sure you could, Carl, but then who would sign your paychecks?”

  This is exactly what he is referring to. Something has gotten into me lately. Normally I would be cowering in a corner and bending to his every whim or demand. But over the last few months, I’ve had to make some life changes in order to come to grips with news that changed my life. News only Cassiel and Noah know, and that wasn’t really by my choice. News Cass forced me to realize, and while I’ll be forever grateful he did, I will also forever hate him a little for making me come to grips with it.

  Before Carl has a chance to respond, the ding of our arrival at Goodwin and Associates has him dropping his hand from my neck. He plasters on that used car salesman’s smile just in time for Amy, Steve’s secretary, to see as she is standing at the elevator doors waiting for our arrival.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Barrett. Mr. Barrett, so good to see you again,” Amy says. She’s worked for Steve for over three years and has constantly remained professional. No matter how many times I’ve insisted she call me Skylar, she still refuses, so I finally just gave up.

  “Thank you, Amy,” I say, following her down the hallway, taking in the new office décor.

  About every six months the office is redecorated, a
nd I take so much pleasure in seeing the changes. This time there seems to be some kind of Japanese aesthetic, which is a vast improvement from the weird futuristic western theme his office was rocking the last time I was here. Although I do miss the hanging star lamps and cactus shaped chairs. I guess that’s the price he pays for marrying an interior decorator, and bless his heart, he loves her too much to say no.

  Amy leads us right into Steve’s office, opening the door for us, and then takes her leave. Steve walks out from behind his desk, and I take a second to admire his suit as I always do. Tom Ford; no one can go wrong with a Tom Ford suit.

  “Skylar dear, so good to see you. Welcome back. I hope filming went well. Carl,” Steve shakes his hand and motions for us both to take a seat on the lush leather chairs as he leans against his desk.

  “Good to see you, too, Steve, though I wish it could be under better circumstances,” I say to be polite. In all honesty, I cannot think of any enjoyable circumstance that would bring me to an attorney’s office, but I like Steve, so no need to be rude. “Love what Clara has done with your offices. Very…Japanese.”

  He laughs, and I’m struck by how his eyes light up when I mention her name. I’m not sure I’ve ever noticed it before. Maybe I was too jaded. It’s sweet.

  “Yes, well, Clara gets an idea in her head and there’s no stopping her.” He smiles, and I can’t help but smile with him; his adoration seems to be contagious.

  “I hate to be rude,” Carl jumps in, making sure to suck all the pleasantries out of the room, “but we need to get down to business. It was difficult enough to get Skylar here, and I would really like it if we could move this along. I have things to do today.”

  That would be a first.

  “Right,” Steve says, straightening up a bit, putting his professional lawyer mask on. Carl really has a way with people. “Skylar, I’m sure your father has filled you in on the details concerning Jeff Roberts, yes?”

  “Actually, Steve, my daughter has been dodging my phone calls recently so she’s only aware of the basics,” Carl chastises. He’s trying to shame me, but I refuse to take the bait. I have to be stronger than him so I just roll my eyes in silent protest.