Crazy Maybe

by Justice, A. D.

  I turn and stare into his eyes for a half a second before the warning bells in my head go off. I’m in the parking lot alone with him. Again.

  “Brad. Get away from me.” My voice holds more warning than I feel inside right now. I can’t show him any weakness.

  “You know you don’t want that, Andi.”

  “I know I want you as far away from me as possible, Brad.”

  He grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the other end of the parking lot. I immediately struggle against him but since he’s a big guy, and used to be a boxer at the club before Mack banned him, I don’t stand much of a chance against him. But I refuse to go down without a fight and he will at least have some marks on him compliments of yours truly.

  In no time, he’s pulled me to his car and is trying to stuff me in it when a pair of big hands grab me and another pair of big hands grab him. I’m thrown over someone’s shoulder and carried back to my car. I can’t make out much in the dark parking lot, hanging upside down and facing a nice and familiar jean-clad ass. But I think I see someone who may or may not resemble Shane wailing on Brad, who is definitely crying like a girl.

  There seems to be a theme with the men around me picking me up and carrying me around like they own me. When this particular man puts me down, I’m suddenly at a loss for words – except for one word. Luke.

  I mumble a thank you and he looks as uneasy as I feel. I finally find my voice and give him an appropriate response for what he just did.

  “Thank you, Luke. If you hadn’t come along when you did…..well, I don’t want to even think about that. But I appreciate what you did….stepping in and helping me.”

  My gratefulness is sincere but I could barely maintain eye contact when I talked to him. It just hurts to look at him and not be able to touch him. Well, except for when I was hanging over his shoulder and ogling his fine ass.

  “How could I not help you, Andi?” I hear the pain in his voice and the insinuation that I thought he wouldn’t help me.

  I give him my ultimate DUH look but I don’t feel the need to elaborate. He knows exactly why I would think that. My only consolation in this whole fiasco tonight is that hopefully he thinks my tear-stained cheeks are from my altercation with Brad.

  “I should go.” I turn and walk away when I hear him call my name.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  LUKE

  “Andi,” I don’t even know what to say. I just don’t want her to leave. She stops in her tracks but doesn’t look at me. Yeah, I heard the words of the song she sang to me tonight. She didn’t sit in my lap this time but I know it was directed at me. I deserve every bit of her anger – I let her down when she needed me the most. She was right about one thing that night – she wouldn’t betray me.

  “What do you want, Luke?” She’s trying to hold back tears. I know they’re tears because of me, even though the song she obviously sang for me says she’s moving on. I see her shoulders shake slightly and I know she’s really trying to not break down right here.

  “Are you hurt? Do you need someone to drive you home?”

  After a couple of seconds, she answers with a watery voice, “I’m fine.”

  She walks off, quickening her pace so my words can’t stop her again. I stand frozen like a damn statue watching her drive away from me. I turn to see if Shane has killed the loser, Brad, and see Brandon glaring at me.

  “What?” I ask defensively.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You just asked her if she needs someone to drive her home -- after some guy just fucking assaulted her in the parking lot! How many fucking times have you been hit in the head?” Brandon is stalking off towards his car, shaking his head at me in disgust. I jump in my truck and speed off after Andi. Brandon’s right – of course she’s not ok.

  Shane just told me a little about this douchebag Brad. When I saw him lift her up off the floor, I wanted to wipe the floor with him. After Shane told me why he hates douche-Brad so much, I wished I had done it. Andi went on a couple of dates with him but wouldn’t sleep with him. Shane said Andi knew almost right away that he was trouble. When she turned douche-Brad down, he tried to drag her off, just like he did tonight. No doubt to rape her but something else must be off in the guy’s head. He thinks if he just has time alone with her then she’ll change her mind.

  I would’ve loved to been the one to give him a beat down. But when I saw him dragging her off and she was fighting with everything she had, I automatically went to her. I want to protect her and love her. It just felt natural to get her first when I knew Shane wouldn’t let douche-Brad get away.

  I reach her house and see her bedroom light is on so I know she made it home. I scrape my hands over my face, force myself out of the truck and walk up to ring her doorbell. I don’t really expect her to open the door. I know she’ll look out the window, see my truck and tell me to fuck off. But I wait anyway. She doesn’t answer after a couple of doorbell rings and I sit down on the porch floor with my back to the door. I lean my head back and turn to look at the door knob.

  “Andi, baby,” I say to the door, “I’m so sorry. I’m such a jerk and I fucked this up so bad. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve heard you out. I never should’ve left you there. I should’ve drove you home tonight. So many fucking times I should’ve told you so many things. I want to be the one who always protects you. I love you – with all of my heart and soul, I love you. I miss you, Andi…I miss you so fucking much I can’t breathe.”

  I sit here on the floor of her porch for I don’t know how long, hoping she heard me. Hoping she’ll open the door and let me in. But the door doesn’t open and there’s no sound behind it, so I begrudgingly leave. I’m going back to my apartment alone again and it’s on the drive there that it hits me hard that I’ve lost her for good. This isn’t me being pissed or being stupid again. This is me realizing the rest of my life will be spent without her.

  After enduring two nights of no sleep, I stumble into the living room and turn on the TV for the Monday morning news. I flip through the stations until a familiar face catches my eye. The local news channel is showing a picture of Andi. It’s an older picture but it’s still her. I can’t move as my brain strains to comprehend what the reporter is saying.

  “Andrea Morgan, daughter of the legendary Maxwell Morgan, will officially assume control her family’s various properties and, of course, their mass media conglomerate with assets estimated to be in the billions, tonight for her 25th birthday. An elaborate, A-list, invitation-only gala has been planned for at the Hyatt Regency Atlanta Ballroom. If you were lucky enough to be on the invite list, you will definitely be in for a treat tomorrow night. If you’re like the majority of us who were not on that list, you can count on us to bring it to you live.”

  That’s my Andi the reporter is talking about. This is one thing my dad was right about. Andi’s birthday is a big deal and she never mentioned the first thing to me about it. But Brandon’s words keep coming back to haunt me – you know her. I didn’t trust in her when that’s really the only thing she ever asked of me. I let her down when she desperately needed me. I won’t make that mistake again. So no matter what the circumstances look like, I will trust her.

  The ringing of my cell phone jars me out of my haze. It’s my dad. Groaning to myself, I answer. He doesn’t even say hello.

  “Did you see the news just now?” He barks out at me.

  “Yes, I saw it.”

  “Now do you see what I was talking about?”

  “I see that she’s inheriting her family’s business on her 25th birthday. Isn’t that pretty standard for something of this magnitude?”

  “I guess so,” he mumbles, losing some of his bravado.

  “But what I don’t see is where she’s done anything against me, Dad.” I know my tone is accusing and disrespectful, but I can’t figure out why my dad flipped out over this. “Something else you know that I don’t?”

  “Son, it’s complicated,” his confidence is all b
ut gone now.

  I sit up on the edge of the couch, ready to pounce on what he means exactly. “What. Is. Complicated,” I ground out. I have a very bad feeling about this.

  Suddenly I hear my mom’s voice on the line. “Luke, maybe you should come over so we can talk.”

  I don’t remember driving to my parents’ house but suddenly I’m barging through the door, calling for them. “Mom! Dad! Where are you?”

  My mom meets me on the way to the kitchen and I immediately notice her eyes are bloodshot, red-rimmed and puffy. She motions for me to follow her outside where dad is waiting at the patio table. The one Andi bought them.

  “What the hell is going on, Dad?” I’m not in the mood for any fucking games.

  Dad sighs heavily and looks deeply into this coffee cup, as if the answer is swimming there, before answering. “Andi’s father, Maxwell, and I were once business partners. We had a real estate development agreement and he’d bought a key piece of property just before he died. Max had put up all the money for that property to help me out, so my name obviously wasn’t on the deed.

  When he died, the property was tied up in probate and I haven’t been able touch it. I’ve lost money on this deal for years – we own the property around it but the development couldn’t be done without the one parcel he had bought.

  I realized who Andi was when she told us about her parents’ death and how she was put in foster care. So,” his voice cracked and he stopped talking for a minute.

  “I had a private investigator look into her background. He found the court documents of when she was sent to the mental hospital. Then he visited the hospital and got the pictures of her when she was there. When you walked in during our conversation, I had just told Andi that if she didn’t give me that property, I would leak those pictures to the press and the board would block her from taking over her family’s business.”

  He won’t even look up at me. The shame of what he’s done has taken a significant toll on him. But that doesn’t stop the intense anger and outrage at what he’s done to Andi. And to me.

  I emphasize each word in a menacing whisper while my eyes blaze with fury directed solely at him. “You used and hurt the only person who has ever believed in me without question. Then you twisted everything to turn me against her.”

  I’m not asking questions. I’m making statements but he still acknowledges what he’s done.

  “Yes, Luke.” A tear drops from his eye but he won’t meet my hard stare.

  And my response echo’s through the yard. “Why?”

  “My business is going under! We will lose everything. The property is an old, dilapidated building and it means nothing to her. She will have more money that she knows what to do with – she can afford to lose this one thing. I would’ve never given those pictures to anyone – never. I just needed to make her think I would so she would go along with it. I thought I had to put pressure on her to make sure she gives me what I need. She loves you – I thought if the pictures didn’t work, then the threat of losing you would.”

  My dad is near panic and so am I. It’s not a good combination. “That’s why she said she would’ve given it to you freely if you’d just told her you needed it,” I’m just now understanding her comment from that night.

  This makes my father completely break down and tears are falling down his cheeks. “Yes.”

  “How the hell could you do this to us? I love her, Dad. I love her more than anything and I completely betrayed her.” Wait a minute….. “What else do you know about her being remanded to the mental hospital?”

  He takes a deep breath, “That was all true, but the PI said the circumstances were very, very suspicious. She attacked her foster father, who was some well-known political figure but his name has been redacted from every document. Everyone the PI asked about it warned him off of it. Told him to leave it alone if he valued his life.”

  My response is like a lion’s roar, “You knew this when you showed me the pictures? When you let me believe a lie about her?”

  Dad nods his response. “I’m so sorry, son. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I love you, and I love Andi, and I hate myself for what I’ve done.”

  I don’t even know what to do with this information. I don’t know how to process all this shit.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ANDI

  “I’m not going,” I state matter-of-factly.

  “Oh hell, yes, you are, girl,” Tania retorts, just as matter-of-factly, as she digs through my closet, tossing clothes all over the floor. “You have nothing to wear tonight.”

  “I’ve already said that,” I point out to her, “and that’s why I’m not going!”

  The determination in Tania’s eye can’t be missed. She grabs my hand and drags me out of my house, ignoring my complaints. After hitting the Atlanta formal dress shops, we finally settle on a full-length gown with one long sleeve that covers my tattooed arm but leaves my other arm, shoulder, and back bare. It’s navy blue and silver sequins set on black silk with a thigh-high split in the front. It is exquisite with the matching heels.

  Tania and I go to our appointment with my hairdresser. I love the pink stripes in my hair. I got them because it helps get the kids at the youth center to trust me. But I was convinced, ahem strong-armed, by Tania to get them covered up and go all blond for the board announcement tonight. I still can’t believe this is really happening.

  I’ve dreaded this day for so long – being thrust into the limelight and having all my secrets dissected by the media. Being judged for something none of them really know the truth about and knowing that no one would even believe me if I told them. I know it’ll happen especially since Sam’s private investigator found those pictures of me. Whoever the private investigator got them from will undoubtedly make the connection and sell copies to the highest bidder. I hope I’ve found a private island to seclude myself on by then.

  Our hair is perfectly coifed, our manicures and pedicures are professionally done, and now our makeup is being expertly applied. The makeup artist is using stage makeup so it won’t fade away under all the flashing bulbs tonight. It feels thick like rubber and I’m sure it’ll hold up during a nuclear bomb blast. Whatever it takes, right? Tania’s driving me home and insists I keep the air vents from blowing on my perfectly finessed coiffure. I roll my eyes and comply because she scares me a little when she’s like this.

  I’ve arranged for a limousine to take us to the Hyatt Regency. Tania is my plus-one tonight and she looks fabulous. The driver calls my cell to let me know he’s just pulled up outside my house and Tania and I walk out my front door to go face the tenth circle of hell. With the clicking of the door shutting behind me, Tania and I are off to the ballroom in our more-than-Sunday-best clothes.

  Exiting the limousine, the flashes of light are absolutely blinding and they’re going off from every direction. The photographers are yelling my name and questions I can’t really understand because the roar is so loud. I’m glad there are ropes up to keep them back, otherwise I’m sure I’d be swamped by them right now. My family’s lawyer, Bill Stanton, warned me it would be this way, so Tania and I keep our best smiles plastered to our faces and ignore the questions.

  It’s much more subdued inside the ballroom. There’s a small band playing classical music in the corner and the tones carry lightly throughout the room. Wait staff walks the room with trays of various types of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. There’s also a buffet table with small trays and finger foods but I don’t see anyone eating. Everyone looks too pretentious to dare pile a plate full of food at a gathering like this.

  I dare Tania to do it and threaten to call her all sorts of names for the rest of her life if she chickens out. Like me, she doesn’t cave to peer pressure and threatens to call me worse names regardless of some stupid dare. This is why I brought her – she can make me laugh no matter how deep I am in my own pity party. We mingle for about thirty minutes before I run into Bill, who is really the only othe
r person here that I know.

  We chat for a few minutes before he escorts me around the room to introduce me to my father’s old associates, and of course, the chief executive officer of MaxMorgan Music. The CEO will be making a huge announcement tonight and I’m so glad this will soon be over. I’ve been very anxious over the decision I had to make, but it seemed easier to make after the last night I was at Luke’s parents’ house. Tonight hopefully closes that chapter. And here I am thinking about Luke again. My heart is still broken and even though I try to tell myself I won’t look back, that’s exactly what I keep finding myself doing.

  A few reporters have been allowed inside the ballroom and they’re taking pictures as we make our way forward. My confident smile is plastered in place and I’m consciously avoiding fidgeting in front of the cameras. I draw in a sharp breath when the current CEO of MaxMorgan Music finishes his introduction speech and calls me to the podium.

  “Thank you all for coming tonight. I know most of you personally knew or worked for my father and I appreciate the support you’re showing by just being here. After careful deliberations with key executive officers and legal counsel, we have come to an agreement for the future of MaxMorgan Music.”

  The term you-could-hear-a-pin-drop comes to mind.

  “MaxMorgan Music will remain fully intact but I will not assume CEO responsibilities. That position will remain in the capable hands of our current CEO. I am very proud of the company my father built and the many employees and executives have cultivated into a prestigious, lucrative corporation. In no way do I want to detract from that achievement. While a part of me desperately wants to hold onto my father’s legacy, I know that’s not a reasonable expectation.

  MaxMorgan Music will remain a privately owned company and my interest will be sold back to the company for an undisclosed amount. I have accepted a contract position within the company to identify and sign new musical talent and I am looking forward to being a contributing member of the staff. Thank you for your support and dedication to the future of MaxMorgan Music.”