by Claire Adams
“Cat,” someone called out.
Cat blinked and turned toward the source of the voice: a cute brown-haired woman in glasses.
“Diane?” she said.
The other woman closed on her and smiled. “It’s been years. I don’t think I’ve seen you since college.” She pulled Cat into an embrace.
“You work in movies now?”
Diane nodded, “Yes, I’m an assistant scriptwriter. Getting to use that English degree, after all,” she shrugged.
“Are we gonna see the stunt guys?” Jack said, a bit of a whine in his voice.
Cat shot him a smile. “Sure, sweetie,” she answered him as she looked over at me. “Diana is an old friend from college. Why don’t you take Jack over there, and I’ll catch up?”
“Sure thing,” I said. I took the boy’s hand in mine and led him over to the gathered stunt men. I felt a since of pride that Cat trusted me with her son on a busy movie set.
Shaking hands with them, I introduced myself.
“So, these are your bikes,” said Mike, one of the lead stuntmen.
“You guys are doing a badass job of riding them,” I said. “I’ve been riding my entire life, and I wouldn’t even try a quarter of the shi—” I glanced down at Jack who was listening intently. “I wouldn’t try a lot of the stuff you’re doing.”
Mike grinned, then knelt down to be at eye level with Jack. “Hey, little man, you want to sit on one of the stunt bikes?”
Jack nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”
Mike laughed and nodded his head in the direction of one of the parked bikes. We all walked over there, and I helped Jack onto the seat.
“Vroom, vroom,” Jack said, only barely able to touch the handlebars. “I’m gonna catch the bad guy in the car.”
Mike laughed. “I think actually the guys on the bikes are the bad guys in this scene.”
Jack shook his head, “No! The bikes are cool. The car is stupid.”
Mike and I both laughed at that.
“Hey, I’m not going to disagree with the kid,” I said, with a shrug.
I hadn’t ever seen Jack as happy as I was seeing him then. I felt like fucking Superman for making the kid so happy, especially since he was happy sitting on top of something I loved and my company had built.
All that good feeling vanished when Cat suddenly rushed past me, picked up Jack, and set him on the ground.
“Come with me, Jack,” she said, anger in her voice. She stormed off around the corner, Jack in hand.
Mike blinked and looked over at me. I sighed and shook my head.
“Long story,” I said. “Not your fault. Thanks for showing him the bikes.”
“No problem, man.”
He shook my hand, and I walked toward where I’d seen Cat disappear with Jack in tow. I stopped and didn’t turn the corner once I could make out her voice.
“You shouldn’t want to ride a motorcycle,” she said, her voice angry. “They are very dangerous. You should never even be getting near one, let alone sitting on one. I’ve told you that a lot of times.”
“Sorry, Mommy,” Jack said, sniffling.
I resisted the urge to go argue. It wasn’t fair of Cat to be filling Jack with her fear. I understood why she hated bikes, but shoving that phobia onto her son because she was still processing her husband’s death just wasn’t right.
My hands curled into fists. Every part of me wanted to go defend Jack. Hell, defend myself for my own actions, too, but I gritted my teeth and didn’t move.
Cat was his mom, and I wasn’t about to interfere with a mother raising her son, even when I disagreed. It wasn’t my place, not yet, anyway.
I waited, and Cat came around the corner pulling Jack along.
“Hey, Cat, I just—”
“Take us home,” she snapped. “Right now.”
I let out a sigh, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We’re done here.” Cat wouldn’t even look at me.
Jack teared up, and it stabbed at my heart. I’d meant for this to be a great day, especially for Jack.
We walked in silence toward my truck. Jack sniffled quietly but didn’t break into full-out sobbing. I tried to help him into the car, but Cat grabbed him before I could. She glared at me, and I stepped back, blinking.
Walking to the driver’s side of the truck, I slipped into my seat, shaking my head. Every part of me wanted to yell and scream, but I wasn’t going to do anything else that might upset Jack. The kid’s spirit was crushed enough already.
Once everyone had their seatbelts on, I started the truck and drove away from the movie site.
No one spoke on the way back to Cat’s house. I glanced over at her every once in a while, but she didn’t even look at me, not even to glare at me. It’s like she was trying to pretend I didn’t even exist.
My stomach twisted. Things had gone sideways so quickly.
When we arrived at her house, she got out without even saying anything to me. She helped Jack out, grabbed his booster seat and marched to the front door before I could even offer to help.
I hurried after her, determined not to let her shut me out entirely. As I approached the door, she turned and said, “Wait here.”
I nodded and swallowed. Cat opened the door and led Jack inside. A minute later she returned.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, shaking her head.
“Wait. What are you saying? I’m sorry about the bike, but don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
Cat looked up, tears rimming her eyes. “I’ll work at your company because I need the money and benefits, but we just can’t see each other anymore. It’ll always come back to bikes with you.”
“Cat, wait, we can talk—”
She interrupted me by slamming the door in my face.
I scrubbed my face with my hand. This morning I’d planned to tell her that I loved her, and now she was saying she never wanted to see me again.
Fuck.
Chapter Thirty-six
Catherine
I stared at the clock. I’d need to hit the road soon if I wanted to make it to work on time. Despite everything that had happened yesterday, I couldn’t risk my job. I needed the job for Jack.
The last thing I wanted Daniella to think, or even Drew, was that I was some sort of flake who didn’t take my work seriously. No matter how much my heart ached over what had happened the day before, that didn’t change my responsibility.
At the same time, I knew I wasn’t ready to face Drew again so soon. It’d been a mistake to let myself get close to him and to let certain feelings back into my heart.
I swallowed. I’d been falling for him. Was it love? I wasn’t sure. It’d been a long time since I felt that kind of love.
The whole mess was as much my fault as it was his. I knew he was a biker. It wasn’t some big secret. I should have kept pushing him away. Mom had tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen.
With a sigh, I rubbed the back of my neck. During HR orientation, they’d mentioned telecommuting rules. Maybe I could do that for a day or two until I calmed down. First, I needed to get Daniella’s permission.
Dialing, I hoped that she wouldn’t ask why I wanted to work from home. I wasn’t prepared to go into everything that had happened with Drew, even if Daniella was my friend and Drew her brother. I figured she’d find out eventually, but it didn’t have to be right away.
“Hello?” Daniella answered.
“It’s me, Cat.”
“What’s up?”
“Um, something’s come up, and I was wondering if I could work from home today.” I took a deep breath and held it, waiting for her response. This had to work. I might have a break down if I was forced to go in.
“Okay, that sounds fine. You should be able to access your company email from your computer. I’ll send you a text with a link that explains how.”
I exhaled softly. That was easier than I’d thought it would be. Thank God she hadn’t asked why I wanted to stay home.
<
br /> Daniella cleared her throat. “If you need a few days—it’s okay. There’s nothing I need you working on in the next couple of days that requires you to be in the office. I get that sometimes the heart needs time to heal. I appreciate you still trying to work instead of asking for sick days or something.”
My heart started thundering. Did she know? Had Drew talked to her?
“Okay,” I managed to stammer out. “I’ll just text you or send you an email if I have any questions.”
“Sounds great. Just keep in mind, Cat, that no matter what happened, your job at the company is secure. I hired you because I believed in you.” With that, Daniella hung up.
I slumped against the wall, my pulse pounding in my ears and my face hot. She obviously knew about Drew, but she’d made a point of telling me my job was safe. That was a good thing at least. The last thing I wanted was to have to spend time looking for a new job or go crawling back to my agent.
A few deep breaths later, I made my way over to the desk and turned on my laptop. Even if I was skipping out on the office, I still had work to do, and I was determined to prove to Daniella that she’d not made a mistake when she hired me.
My eyes flicked back and forth as I read through my emails. Tons from the PR department about the social media campaigns, not a big surprise. A smattering of others filled out the rest of my inbox.
A few minutes later, I blinked several times, realizing I could barely remember what I’d just read.
It was hard to focus. Before, I’d had trouble because I couldn’t get the lustful thoughts about Drew out of my head, but that wasn’t my problem now. Instead, images of Jack on top of that bike mixed in my imagination with images of my husband lying dead next to his own mangled bike.
Motorcycles were death machines. They’d taken my husband, and I wouldn’t let them take my son.
Dropping my head on the desk, I let out a loud groan.
Drew said I’d overreacted. Was he right? Was it so wrong for me to still be devastated by my husband’s death?
On some level, I knew I was totally being irrational, but that didn’t mean I could easily change how I felt.
Drew had told me that he understand what I was going through because he’d also lost people. Sure, he had, his parents who were much older. It wasn’t the same thing as losing the love of your life in an accident without any warning.
No. He didn’t understand what I’d gone through or what I was still going through. He couldn’t. I let out another strangled groan.
I sat there in silence, my head on the desk, for several minutes when Jack came out of his room.
“When are we going to daycare?” he asked quietly. “If I don’t get there on time, I might miss the juice.”
“You aren’t going today, sweetie,” I said. “I’m working from home, so you can stay home with me.”
Jack pulled a chair over by me and sat down. He laid his hand on my arm, a sad look on his face.
“Are you still mad at me, Mommy?”
I shook my head but didn’t raise it. It’s like I didn’t have the strength to do it, even though I knew I needed to be strong for my son.
“No, I’m not mad at you, Jack.”
“You look very sad. I’m worried.”
I sighed and forced my head up. “It’s—just grown-up stuff, Jack. Don’t worry about it. Sometimes even grown-ups get sad. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”
Jack made a funny face, and I blinked.
“You didn’t laugh,” he said and stuck his lip out.
“Sorry, sweetie. Just not in the mood to laugh.”
My son hopped out of his chair and kissed me on the cheek. “I love you, Mommy. I promise I’ll never go near a bike again.” He turned to head back to his room.
I let my head drop again. Good. I didn’t want him near those death machines. If it took a little guilt, well, if that was the price we’d have to pay to keep him safe, so be it.
That’s what I thought until I heard his footsteps followed by a soft thud next to me. Lifting my head, I looked down. He’d filled a box with all his motorcycle toys.
My heart stopped as I saw he’d even included the ones his father had gotten him, one of the few direct links he still had with my husband. He barely could remember his father, but he still called those his ‘daddy bikes.’
I gasped. He hadn’t played with them in a while. I thought he’d just gotten tired of them, but now I thought back to the last few times he had played with him. I could tolerate normal toys, but I’d asked him not to play with his ‘daddy bikes.’
What had I done?
“I found them all, Mommy,” Jack said, his face far too grim for a five-year-old. “You can throw them in the garbage so you won’t be sad anymore. Or we can put them in a big pile and burn them. I don’t want you to be sad. You were happy, and then I made you sad because I sat on the motorcycle. I’m a bad boy.”
Each word made my stomach tighten more. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing would come out.
I forced out my words. “You’re not a bad boy, Jack. You’ve never been a bad boy.”
My son wiped away a few tears and then turned around to head back to his room.
Tears pooled up in my eyes, and I shook my head. I was the worst mother in the world.
I was Jack’s mother. I was supposed to protect him. He wasn’t going to be a stunt rider anytime soon, and now I had him more worried about me and unhappy.
And for what? My paranoia? It wasn’t like Drew and the stuntmen were going to have Jack shoot a scene on the bikes. He’d just been sitting there pretending and having fun.
My tears clouded my vision, and I wiped them away with my sleeve. I thought I was keeping my son safe, but all I was doing was making him sad and filling him with my own fear. I was hurting him, the last thing a parent should do.
Bile rose in my throat. Not only that, but Drew was right, after all. I had overreacted to a kind and generous man who’d patiently dealt with me despite all my emotional issues. There was no way I’d ever meet a man like him again. God wasn’t so kind.
I’d destroyed my chance at real happiness because of my fears. I’d even destroyed a chance at my son having a good man in his life again, a man who had liked my son from the beginning.
Slumping in my chair, my mind raced as I tried to figure out how I could fix the mess I’d created. I didn’t know. Just going and apologizing to Drew didn’t seem like enough, not after the way I’d shredded any trust he held.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Mom. She was my last hope.
“Cat?” she answered. “Is everything all right?”
“No, Mom,” I said, sniffling. “I screwed everything up. I freaked out about Drew putting Jack on a bike and told him I didn’t want to see him again.”
“I see. That’s unfortunate.”
“You were right, Mom. I should have thought more about the bike thing. Instead, I just let it blow up.”
She took in and let out a deep breath. “The important question is, do you want him back?”
“Yes, Mom. I—”
I swallowed, as my mind slowly accepted the truth.
“You what?” Mom asked.
My heart raced as I realized what I was about to say out loud. Saying it would make it real in a way that thinking about it never had.
“I think I’m in love with him, Mom. With Drew.”
“Then you know what you need to do. You need to make this right.”
“I don’t even know how. He’s been so patient with me, but I keep all but spitting in his face because of my hang-ups about bikes.”
“Hmmm.” The line went quiet for a moment; it was so long I’d thought she’d disconnected. “Then find something that symbolizes your first real connection. If this relationship is meant to last, then he’ll respond to it. Maybe something from your first real conversation or something like that. You need to remind him why he should be interested in you.”
I nodded, even though she c
ouldn’t see it. My eyes widened as an idea hit me.
“I think I know just the thing.”
“Good, and Cat, if you’re the one who wronged him more, then you need to apologize more. This isn’t time for some sort of relationship powerplay.”
“I know, Mom. I know, and thanks.”
“You’re welcome, and good luck.”
Several deep breaths followed the call. I had a plan, but it’d require a little bit of help. Fortunately, I did have one ally.
I dialed Daniella.
“Hey, Cat,” she said. “What did you need?”
“A favor,” I said. “A big one.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Drew
Tuesday morning, I pulled into the parking lot in my truck. It was funny in a sad way. Cat had blown up at me about a bike, so now I hadn’t bothered to ride my own. Not that I had a problem with my truck, but one of the big reasons I rode my bike to work was to keep a connection to my biker roots.
Even if I couldn’t go on long rides all the time anymore, making sure that I always knew what it felt like to have a motorcycle between my legs was a big part of keeping all those feelings and memories fresh from my days on the road. It didn’t matter how many boring-ass board meetings I attended. My bike always reminded me of who I really was.
But now I couldn’t even bring myself to hop on my bike. It was a symbol of my family—and a symbol of everything Cat hated. I loved her, but I also couldn’t turn my back on what I loved and what my family had given the country.
It didn’t matter. She’d made her feelings clear. Whatever we had, whatever we were building, it’d been exploded into thousands of pieces. That elusive happiness I thought I could finally grasp had escaped me.
Fuck my life.
My failed relationship didn’t mean I could ignore my company, though. I was the owner and CEO. It didn’t matter how I felt. I still had a duty to show up at work and do my damn job.
I’d half-hoped I could talk to Cat at work, but Daniella had let her work from home after yelling at me for screwing things up. Kind of sucked that the woman I loved had left me and my own sister blamed me for it.
