by T. K. Rapp
The retraction won’t be an easy one to sell, but it will be a good start to repair the damage Brad has done to not only Cave, but also Cavette’s son Joel. He’s not in the family business, and it’s unfair he would be cast in an unsavory spotlight, but it’s what has happened.
Cavette, Grayson
October 15, 2014 10:59 AM
To: Miller, Trey
Subject: Press Release
Grayson,
I have looked over all of the information Cal sent over, and based on what I have seen, I understand the concern. Hopefully, the attached press release will help undo some of the damage created by Rock Solid’s actions.
I discussed an additional campaign to help refocus the spotlight on something positive in all of this, but I didn’t go over it with him. I wanted to get your input.
What if Cave starts a charitable fund for victims of DUI and their families? Ten percent of select purchases, on a specific day, will be donated to the fund and perhaps Cave can match the monies raised.
What are your thoughts on this?
Regards,
Trey
Trey Miller
T.M. Enterprises
I would have gone directly to Cavette with this one, but I could tell he was spun up about everything, and I think Grayson would be great at handling this. If anything, he can tell me whether or not his grandfather would like the idea or if it needs to be different.
Cave’s headquarter phone number flashes on my office phone and Grayson’s voice comes through. “I just got your email, Trey. Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, so what did you think?”
“The release is fine. There isn’t much we can do because they already screwed us by putting the whole thing out there like they did, but this response is better than nothing.”
“I’m really sorry about all of that.”
“Me too,” he laments. “I feel really bad for Faith. She’s really taking a lot of heat on this.”
“What did her boss say?”
“Nothing really. They apologized for her actions and notified she would be dealt with. Pops tried to set them straight, but they dismissed him.”
“I’m familiar with the tactic,” I mutter. “So what’s next?”
“We do our best to fix this and move on,” he says before he clears his throat. “I like the idea of the charitable contribution. I think Pops will like it, too.”
“Do you want to take it to him or would you prefer I send it?”
“I’ve already sent it on,” he informs me. “I’m sure he’ll be in touch soon.”
“Sounds good.”
“Thanks for everything, Trey.”
“Not a problem,” I respond before we get off the phone.
The only thing left to do now is get to Faith and figure out how and why things have turned out the way they have. If Faith had any idea of what Brad is capable of, there’s no way she’d consider remaining at Rock Solid with him, let alone being in a relationship with him. I warned her; he tried to ruin my career, too. I’m all too familiar with how Brad Emerson operates.
Dialing Faith’s number again, I wait for her voicemail to pickup, but she answers. “What do you want, Trey?”
“I need to see you. We have to talk.”
“There’s nothing to say. Can you please leave me alone?”
“You know I can’t, I -”
“I can’t do this; I have to try to salvage what’s left of my career.”
“I’m coming over.”
“Don’t bother, because I’m not answering.”
She hangs up the phone, and I slump into my seat trying to take a calming breath. “Asshole,” I mutter as I slam my fist to my desk thinking about what Brad has done. He is the sleaziest guy I know, and he doesn’t deserve Faith yet she won’t listen to me.
Focus.
The office staff is still around, and since Hattie’s gone, there’s no one to lock up the building; but I don’t care. I grab my car keys and shut my office door behind me with one destination in mind.
* * *
“Faith,” I knock on her apartment door lightly. “I know you’re home. I see your car.”
“Go away, Trey,” she barks from the other side of the door.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I argue. “We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she slurs, “I knew better than to trust the Miller boys.”
“What are you talking about?”
She doesn’t answer right away, so I peek through the window next to the door. Her blinds are cracked open slightly, and I see her in the kitchen pouring something into a glass and she gulps it down, stumbling as she walks back to the door.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she opens the door, but the chain prevents it from coming completely open.
“Can you let me in so we can talk?”
“Lies,” she slurs again. “So you can tell me more lies?”
“Faith, you need to slow down,” I warn as she takes another sip.
“You wanna talk?” she asks in mock surprise. “By all means, the mighty Trey Miller has something to say.” She opens the door and steps aside to let me in.
I walk to her kitchen and grab a glass, filling it with water before handing it to her. “You’re a mess, you need to drink some water.”
“Lemme tell you something, Trey Miller,” she says, my last name with a sneer full of loathing. “I thought it was bad when Jett tortured me about my crush when we were kids, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re ripping me up.”
I can’t even formulate a response to that, so I sit quiet to listen to her drunken rambling.
“I might have been a little girl to you, but I was so head over heels for you. I would wait to watch you pass by and get all girlie and butterflies and shit. You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and when Jett found out, he told me you liked me, too. Do you know what that did to me? I’d lost my brother, who was my hero, but those words gave me back a little bit the hope I’d lost.”
My heart twists at her verity, and I want to punch my brother for torturing the poor girl.
“I went to the tree in the woods, it was one I had seen so many of you go to before and I waited for you. My heart was mending in that moment and I wanted you to hold me. But when they jumped out and started laughing, it didn’t hurt as much as knowing you didn’t care. But when I ran into you, you were so sweet and you held me and then you asked my name and I realized you had no clue who I was. My parents made me move away. I hated them for taking me away from you, despite all of that.”
I remain silent, unsure if I should speak or let her continue on.
“I knew I’d never see you again, and it ripped my heart out. I may have been an insignificant little kid to you, but I knew, even then, I knew I’d never care for someone the way I did about you. And I only knew my fantasy version of you.
“The night you came to the bar, I knew who you were before you came over to me. I saw you with that gorgeous woman, and you looked at me and I knew who you were. My heart both swelled and broke when I saw you. Stupid childhood fantasy.”
“Faith,” I try to interrupt, but she starts walking around.
“No, I knew. And I hated myself because I couldn’t shove those feelings away. At least with Jett, I knew what I was getting, but you played me. I have to give you credit, I bought the whole nice guy act.”
She shakes her head as if she’s waging an inner battle. “How is it that I don’t see you for years, hell - half a lifetime, but when I finally do lay eyes on you, I’m that little girl waiting for you to see me and take me into your arms and tell me you feel the same?”
“But. I. Did,” I argue, walking over to her. “Funny how you’re rewriting the sequence of events right now, but then again, you’re drunk.” She moves away and Cavette’s words from earlier come to mind causing me to get angry. �
��What game are you playing, Faith?”
She spins around and looks at me in shock, “Me? I’m playing games? Have you looked in the mirror, Miller?” she sneers.
“Why did you say Brad wasn’t coming into town?”
“Because he wasn’t,” she argues. “He called me after I left your place and told me he had a change of plans, so he came in for one night. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Did you end things with him?” I walk up to her, invading her space. She swallows hard and her glassy eyes meet mine.
“We’re still talking about it,” she answers.
“What’s stopping you?” I challenge as I watch her chest rise and fall rapidly.
“Why do you think?” she asks in a hushed tone.
“Why can’t you say it?”
“Because, you’ve already broken me. There’s one small piece I’ve spared, and I can’t let you have it.”
“You’re not using it anyway,” I whisper, remembering her dream from when we were camping. A tear rolls down her cheek as she absorbs my words. “Isn’t that right?”
“I can’t,” she murmurs. “I can’t let you in here again.” She covers her heart and stares deep into my eyes.
I raise my hand to cover hers, and my voice is quiet. “I never knew I was in there, Faith. You haven’t showed that part to me.”
“And I won’t.”
“Can you listen to me for a second?”
She drops her hand and mine falls away at the same time, “I need you to go -” She starts to say more, but she runs to the trashcan and empties the contents of her stomach into it.
“C’mon, you need to lay down.” My voice is calm, although I am anything but calm.
“I’ve got it,” she argues half-heartedly pushing me away. “Go home and close the door behind you, Trey. There’s nothing more to say.”
“There’s plenty to say,” I push even though I know there’s no point in arguing with her. She’s drunk and angry, and I’m trying to wrap my head around everything that’s happened since I last saw her. “Like why is your boyfriend setting you up? Or, why is he emailing me about your career?”
I never knew anyone could be so devious, but I never should have underestimated Brad. He’s always been a snake, and if Faith doesn’t want to be with me, that’s fine. But she deserves a hell of a lot better than Brad Emerson.
She is either ignoring my words, or too sick to hear them, but I help her to her room and notice her bed is still made up. I remove the pillows, one by one, and she starts to remove articles of clothing as she makes her way to the bathroom. The glass of water I tried to make her drink is in the kitchen so I grab it and some medicine for the headache she is sure to have in the morning so I can leave it on her bedside table.
When I walk into the room, she’s already laying in her bed, passed out on her side, mouth wide open. Her apartment is sweltering so I flip the fan switch on and pull the covers over her and sit down next to her. I push back the stray strand of hair and tuck it behind her ear and watch this mess of a woman in front of me. I want to take care of her, to be the guy she relies on. She has no idea how much.
Until this moment, I didn’t realize how much.
When I get up from her bed she rolls to the other side and starts talking gibberish.
“Ice cream, yeah, that’s nice.” I laugh and watch her a little longer. “No, you can’t have it, it’s mine.” I wonder who she’s arguing with. “I’ll always love Trey Miller,” she whispers, sending me to my knees next to her, hoping that she’ll say it again.
I need her to say it again.
Chapter 28
What is that sound?
I try to wake myself up, but I’m too exhausted, and I’m pretty sure I’m not dreaming. The sound of retching filters through my ears, and I try to wipe the sleep from my eyes. I know Jett still feels like ass, but the sounds of him throwing up are enough to make me have to do the same. He needs to shut his door and keep the noise in his room. In his bathroom.
“Oh my God,” a female voice groans, and I look up to see Cheyenne. I didn’t know she was here.
“Are you okay?” I ask through a yawn as I try to sit up.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” she screams and my eyes snap to hers.
“What do you mean? I live here.” Recognition seeps in, and it’s not Cheyenne, but Faith and this isn’t my apartment, but hers. “Oh shit,” I groan as I try to stand up.
“Trey? Why are you here?”
Last night replays in my head, Faith’s drunken tirade, profusely vomiting, and ultimately her passed-out confession. She loves me.
“You don’t remember me coming by last night?”
“I do. But I also remember telling you to leave.”
“Then you must not remember you finished that bottle of vodka over there.” I point to the empty glass bottle on the counter next to an equally empty bottle of Sprite. “And then proceeded to puke it up all night,” I nod my head to her room, “over there.”
“But I passed out,” she says as if it explains everything.
“Well, I tucked you in bed while you rambled in your sleep about ice cream.”
She looks down at her clothes and her eyes widen, “Did you undress me?”
I scoff at her question, “I know you don’t think much of me, but give me a little credit would ya?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how I ended up like this.”
“I didn’t undress you, but you did undress yourself - while I was in your room.”
“What?”
“Yeah, you were going on and on and trying to get me to sleep with you again.”
Her hand covers her mouth as she drops into the chair next to her couch. “Oh my God,” she groans, rubbing her hands over her eyes.
“I’m kidding. But you did start to undress in front of me, so I left and came back in when you were done. Although, I have to say, I did like that lacey white bra you had on.” I laugh, watching her face contort from relief to anger.
“You need to stop, we’re not friends, Trey.” She looks at me with tears welling in her eyes. “Why did you come by? Want to see how well you screwed me over?”
“No I came over here to tell you what really happened.”
“Did Cal fire Rock Solid?”
“Faith -”
“Answer me.” She speaks in a slow, short tone; her eyes are glued to the floor. “Did. Cal. Fire. Rock Solid?”
“You know he did.”
“And did he hire you?”
“Yes.”
“Like I said, I need you to leave. Now.”
“Not until you hear me out.”
“What’s there to hear out? You told me from the beginning you wanted the entire job,” she reminds me.
“Yeah, and you said the same thing. But you know I wouldn’t resort to underhanded tactics, and I know you wouldn’t either. C’mon Faith, you know me better than that.”
Her laugh is cruel, lifeless. “Oh, Trey, I don’t know you at all.”
“That’s bullshit, Faith.” I walk over to her and kneel in front of her to look into her eyes. “You do know me, but you’re afraid to admit it.”
She shakes her head, dismissing my words. “No, I let you in. I told you things I’ve never shared with anyone.”
“And have I done anything to lead you to believe my intentions were anything but true?”
She considers what I’ve communicated to her, and I notice some of her anger vanishes from her body. She walks to the chair and takes a seat and calmly asks, “Then how did this happen?”
“I know you want the story, and believe me, I want to tell you, but you need to eat something. You had a rough night last night, so can you let me make you something to eat first, and then I’ll tell you everything. Okay?”
She eyes me warily, and I hate it. “Fine,” she barks. “But only because I feel like something died in my mouth,” she croaks making a weird face. “I’m going to shower and brush my teeth
. But when I get back, you need to do some explaining.”
Watching Faith leave the room, I sit down and try to get the tension to leave my body. I slept terrible, waking up every hour or so to check on her to make sure she wasn’t suffocating on her own vomit. Once I finally got to sleep, I kept dreaming, and this time I remembered the dream because it wasn’t one at all. Her words replayed over and over in my head. “I’ll always love Trey Miller.”
I grab my phone and see missed calls from Jett and Hattie, both of whom, I assume, are still sick. There’s a text from Jett notifying me he’s feeling better, and he’s covering at work until I get there. Never in a million years did I think he would step up, but he is, when I need him most.
I’m feeling relieved that everything is okay at work and then I hear the shower water start running, so it means Faith is okay, too. There is the distinct sound of cabinet doors shutting loudly, followed by a groaning Faith.
I’ve never made breakfast for anyone other than my mom, and I was probably ten when that happened.
Her fridge is stocked with the basics, including eggs, so this will have to do. I hope she likes scrambled, because it’s pretty much all I can make. There is half a package of bacon in a baggie, so I dump it into a frying pan and turn the fire up high. As it begins to sizzle, sparks of grease fly out splashing my arm, which causes me to flinch. The stove has a vent overhead, so I flip it on because the bacon is starting to smoke up her small kitchen area, but it’s not too bad.
She walks out of her room with a towel wrapped around her head wearing sweats pants and a t-shirt. The scowl she was sporting when she left me earlier is still there, but not as harsh as it was before.
Her stomach lets out a loud growl when she smells the food. “Meat,” she grunts as she walks around me to grab a plate from the cabinet. She throws a few pieces of bacon onto her plate and spoons a heap of eggs next to them.
