Cowboy Baby Daddy

by Claire Adams

  “You’re fucking fired,” I said.

  I stormed out the door with my purse in my hand and flung myself into my car. I had to go after Christian. I had no idea where he was or even if he was staying in town, but the only place I could think to go was his house. If he was anything like me, he wouldn't even be there, but it was the only shot I had at finding him.

  And I’d forever kick myself in the ass if I didn’t at least try to find him.

  I raced down the highway and weaved in and out of traffic. I cursed at every red light and took every shortcut down every back road I knew to get to his house sooner. I dodged cars and swerved around people stumbling off the sidewalk, and eventually, I pulled into his neighborhood. My hands were white-knuckling the steering wheel, and my heart sank to my toes when I realized his car wasn’t parked in the driveway.

  But still, I couldn't give up hope.

  I brought my car to a screeching halt and kept it running while I threw my door open. I ran up to his front door, furiously banging on it with my fist, and I began to yell.

  “Christian, please! Open up!”

  I knocked, and I knocked, and I knocked some more. I hit the door so hard I shook it on its hinges. In the pit of my stomach, I knew he wasn’t here. But I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know where else to find him.

  All I knew was I had to talk with him.

  “Christian, please. Just let me explain. I was an idiot. An angry, fucking idiot. I swear to you, I’m not taking this company from you. I don’t care what that paperwork says, my father was right. Christian, can you hear me? You were right!”

  My hands ached as I turned around, and I slid my back down his front door until I was sitting on his porch. He had to come back home eventually. He’d have to come back here for clothes, or toiletries, or food. I could sit here on his porch and wait for him. I could sleep in my car until I saw him coming up the driveway.

  I just needed to see him.

  I just needed to talk to him.

  I had no idea where he could be. I had no idea where he could’ve gone. If he didn’t come home, the only things he had were the clothes he took to New York, and that wouldn’t last him long anywhere.

  Oh, holy shit. I’d fucked up big time.

  And I sobbed on his porch as all of my mistakes came rushing back to the front of my mind.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Christian

  I woke up the next morning on Todd’s couch as he was coming down the stairs. I didn’t get much sleep the night before, but when I did finally get to sleep all I saw was Stella. I saw her beautiful smile and her radiant black hair. I saw her shining in the sun and glistening in the darkness. I felt her wet skin underneath my fingertips while her lips pressed against mine. I woke up with a start as Stella whispered my name in my ear, and for a moment, I thought it was Stella hovering over me.

  “Dude, why the fuck are you in my house?” Todd asked.

  “Key under the rock, remember?” I asked.

  “I know, man. But what the hell are you doing here? How’d the business trip go?” he asked.

  “It went fine. We did what we wanted to do, then we came home,” I said.

  “Then, why aren’t you at your house?” he asked.

  “Because Stella fucking took the company from me.”

  Todd stared at me for a second before he took my hand, helping me sit up on the couch before he sat down beside me. His eyes were studying my face as I placed my head in my hands, groaning before I raked my fingers through my hair.

  “I thought you had her on your radar,” he said.

  “I fucking did. But these past couple weeks, she’s been a completely different person.”

  “So, you dropped your guard,” he said.

  “Yeah. And I shouldn’t have. I thought the best of her, and instead, she gave me the worst of her. Like she always fucking does,” I said.

  “And you’re shocked?” he asked.

  “No, I’m fucking pissed, and I’m hurt. I’ve been nailing that job. In the two weeks I’ve been there, we kept our schedule, nailed a huge new client with recurring orders in town, and I managed to keep us out of debt while raising our profit margins by opening a direct distribution and shipping program between our warehouses and other cities across the fucking nation. I set that company up to thrive for the next fucking decade before we would have to rebrand again, and she ripped it away from me,” I said.

  “Alright. So, I don’t get half the shit you said, but it sounds like you were doing good. What’d she do? Some sort of hostile takeover or some shit? Like that shady mess in those television shows?” he asked.

  “No. Apparently, there’s like, 10 percent of the stock or something not allocated to anyone or anything other than her father. There wasn’t anything said about it in his will, no paperwork that says where that 10 percent is supposed to go, so apparently until it gets settled his estate defaults to the courts, and the courts decided to turn everything over to Stella to manage for now.”

  “Including the company?” he asked.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t Stella have to actually fire you from that position, though? She’s the owner, but not the CEO. Those are different positions.”

  “I think it’s safe to say she wants me gone from it either way,” I said.

  “Well, that doesn’t really sound like something Stella’s in control of,” he said.

  “Had she not begun her fucking witch hunt in the first damn place, it probably would never have been caught. Or at least, had she stepped back and taken a fucking breath, we could’ve tackled this issue head-on. That lawyer is as lazy as I’ve ever seen them. I don’t know what the hell her stepfather had him on retainer for anyway,” I said.

  “Dude, that’s fucking nuts. I can’t believe she did this to you,” he said.

  “I can. It’s just fucking like her. And it sucks donkey balls, because I thought she was changing. I felt myself changing. Caring about some business bullshit. And I was good at it, too. I know I was. I was starting to enjoy that shit, and I thought my life was finally falling into place. Then Stella comes out of nowhere like she always fucking did when we were kids, and she steals the spotlight because she can’t handle it when anyone else has the attention,” I said.

  “Tell me how you really feel,” he said, smirking.

  “Her and Greyson were perfect for each other,” I said.

  “Whoa, whoa, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Greyson’s a grade-A asshole. You sure you want to go so far as to lump Stella in there with him?”

  “If the shoe fits,” I said, sighing.

  I wanted to tell him about the weekend. About all the things we experienced and talked about and did. I wanted to share with him about the relationship that had budded between us and how it made all this harder, all so much more confusing. I knew if I could tell him, he would understand why I was so blindsided. I knew the way he was looking at me. He was wondering how the hell I could be so dumb as to drop my guard with the one person I’d always kept it up with.

  But, if he knew what we shared. The passion we felt and the romance we experienced. If he knew how I’d grown to feel about her and how I knew she felt about me when I looked into those beautiful pools of green, he’d understand my confusion.

  All I could think about, however, was his freak-out the last time we went surfing. How he reeled at the idea of a stepbrother and stepsister romantically loving one another and being together. How disgusted he was with the entire concept, like we were committing some sort of incestuous nonsense.

  So, I kept my mouth shut on it.

  I guess that was the trend for my life — keeping my mouth shut on shit.

  “So, here’s what we’re going do today, alright? We’re getting off our asses, going to get a perfect cup of coffee, then we’re going surfing. We’ll get your mind off things, then maybe we can call around to some lawyers. Estate lawyers. See what kind of legitimacy this has. If you love the company th
at much, you should fight for it. You should always fight for things you have a passion for. It’s why I always bitch at my boss about changing out seasonal drinks and shit. I live for that kind of thing,” he said.

  “It’s why you should own your own competing coffee shop,” I said.

  “Try again next time, dude,” he said. “So, get up off your ass and get changed. You’ve got 15 minutes.”

  We headed over to his coffee shop and grabbed a cup of coffee, and I watched the scenery pass me by while we drove toward the beach. A day of surfing sounded phenomenal, but I knew it wouldn’t take my mind off things. Help me relax, maybe. Get me doing something, sure. Keep me active, hell yeah. But, help me to forget? To cope? To deal?

  Not a chance.

  “You know, if you really love the company that much, you need to fight for it,” Todd said as we swam out into the ocean.

  “I don’t even know where to begin with that kind of thing,” I said.

  “That’s what consultation appointments with lawyers are for, dude,” he said. “I’m sure there’s something you could do to get the company back. Especially if all this shit is out of Stella’s hands like you made it seem.”

  “I don’t want to do to her what she did to me. That’s not right,” I said.

  “You’re not intentionally throwing her under the bus like she did you,” he said. “You’re taking back something you love. Something you’re good at. And you’ve now got the track record with the company to prove it. It’s a brief track record, but what’s she got? While you were out there working through your grief like I know you do, she was plotting to take you down. That’s not going to look good for her in a court.”

  “I’m not taking her to court,” I said.

  “Fucking hell, Christian. Open your eyes. You were born for this bullshit. Dude, I’ve known for years you were destined for something like this. Something big. Something that meant some shit to the community. You’ve just got that smile. People fucking flock to you, and you always want to do right by them. So, do right by them now,” he said.

  “Taking the company back from my stepsister is doing right by them?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “Fighting for something you love and setting a precedent that you care about that company no matter what is doing right by them.”

  “Do you really think I could get it back?” I asked.

  “Two words, bud. Estate lawyer.”

  I felt the ocean finally growing choppy underneath my board as I began paddling out. The wave rose above the tide, threatening to swallow us whole as I hopped up on my board. This wave was a once in a lifetime wave. One that you could get trapped in and ride its middle curve. The wave curled around my body as I ducked down and surfed its middle, my hand reaching out to brush the water as a smile peeled across my face. For a split second, the world was done. My body was reflected in the mirrors the wave had to offer, and I caught the sparkle in my own eye as I rode it all the way to the very end.

  The wave took me under, pulling me into its grasp as I held my breath. I tumbled while my board kept me from hitting the ground, and as I allowed my body to float and be taken by the current, I realized something.

  Never once had I fought against the current.

  I washed up on shore and saw Todd flagging me down. He gave me two thumbs up before he readied himself for the surge behind it, and I stood there and watched while he surfed his way back to shore. I was just like Todd, always riding the wave in the direction it took me. Never once did I branch out of my comfort zone, and never once did I ever push myself to be anything more significant than a menace on the current.

  Same as we were doing now.

  I owed it to myself to fight for this company. I owed it to the love I’d found for the business, to my stepfather who left it to me, and I owed it to my mother who died feeling disappointed in herself for not raising me the way she thought she needed to.

  Holy shit, my mother was dead.

  And as Todd found his way back to the shoreline of the beach, tears fell down my face as my mother’s face drew itself to the forefront of my memory.

  “She’s gone, Todd,” I said.

  “I know, dude,” he said as he patted my back. “Let’s go get you a drink.”

  That company was mine, and Stella wasn’t going to have it.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Stella

  I finally peeled myself from Christian’s porch and dragged myself back home. By then night had fallen around me, and my mind was tired and worn. I had no idea how I was going to work, much less be productive at work, but the only thing I could hope for was that Christian would be there. Maybe he would have some sort of single-minded dedication to the company, and he would show up. Then perhaps I would get a chance to explain myself before he shut me out of his office.

  I somehow got myself home and walked into my house. I needed to come up with strategies on how to tackle this, but right now all I could do was cry. I curled up on my couch as I thought about the first night we shared together. How electrifying it felt for his lips to hover over my forehead. I’d wanted to raise my head and connect it with his lips just to see how they felt against my skin, and I remembered the disappointment that flooded my veins when he pulled back and went upstairs.

  My body hummed as I remembered what it was like to walk up those stairs. How terrified I was that he was going to reject me and send me crying from his room in nothing but my underwear. I reminisced on how I shed my clothes, leaving them in a trail across the carpet of his bedroom before I lifted the sheet and slid in beside him.

  My body warmed at the mere thought of being next to him, and the waterworks started up as I cried myself to sleep.

  Now, the sun was up, and I was standing in the mirror looking at myself. I saw the dark rings underneath my eyes and the redness of my irises. I felt how much my joints ached with guilt that continued to pound my body. It hurt to shower, and I styled my hair into a bun instead of taking the time to wash it. In these moments, dry shampoo was my friend, but I couldn’t even muster the strength to press the button on the top of the can.

  I didn’t bother with makeup, nor did I bother with jewelry. I threw on the first things I could grab from my closet. I bit down on my bottom lip driving into work, trying to keep my crying at bay. I felt wholly exposed. I felt my emotions pouring from my cold, icy body. I felt years of being cooped up and years of being strong eroding from the very temple I’d considered my body to be.

  I was spiraling down, and I could feel it.

  I walked into the shop, and the woman behind the counter eyed me curiously. I headed toward the back to do inventory, pulling sheets of paper from the filing cabinet as I sighed. People would come in chattering and laughing, only to turn the corner and see me there before they stopped. Word must’ve gotten around as to what had happened with the company, because now the employees were giving me the cold shoulder.

  And they had every right to.

  I was petrified of going to the office. I waded through the inventory as I tried to haul boxes, grabbing at ways to keep my mind off things. I’d put myself into this situation because of my blinding rage, and I convinced myself that I deserved this. I deserved their looks and I deserved Christian’s absence. I deserved the guilt and the toll it was already taking on my body. It took me three hours to inventory the back before I had a running list of things I needed to order, and as I started back through the store, all the employees fell silent.

  They watched me like I was doing the walk of shame out of my ex’s house, and I kept my head down until I felt my shoulder shove into the door. The bell rang, announcing my leave, and I heard the conversations start back up again.

  “Did you hear what she did?”

  “How could she do that?”

  “Christian ran this place better than her father.”

  “She’s selfish.”

  “She’s grieving.”

  “She’s a bitch.”

  I allowed the tears to tr
ickle down my face while I walked over to the office. I left my car parked in front of the store, half-expecting employees to key it in retaliation. I held the papers under my armpit while my hands swung at my sides, and the only thing I could think of was how I was going to approach Christian. I was going to use my toe to knock lightly on his door, then speak to him through it. I couldn’t expect him to open the door and face me, but at least he would be cornered enough to listen.

  I’d tell him I didn’t want the company. I’d say I made a serious mistake because I was a grieving daughter and things had changed. He ran the business better than I ever could, and the employees adored him. I would tell him this was what he was born to do. Going forward, I would listen and take his instruction just like I did in the park.

  I was going to tell him the lawyer blindsided me with this. That I didn’t give him the go-ahead, and he was the one that called me. His phone call was what made me so sick, and I was a coward for not telling him. I’d admit to him all my faults and get on my knees and beg for him to forgive me.

  But, when I got to the office and saw that his door hadn’t even been unlocked, much less opened, I started to cry once more.

  He didn’t even come into the office today.

  I knew I’d ruined things with him. I walked into my office and placed the inventory sheets on the coffee table before I flopped down onto the couch. The room still smelled of him, his cologne from where he sat here last. I breathed him in, closing my eyes while my hands throbbed in my lap. I could feel them swelling to their breaking point, and part of me hoped they would just burst.

  If they did, I wouldn’t be able to do shit with this company, and Christian would have no choice but to come back.

  He was this company’s life support, and I would be its eventual downfall.

  I was never going to get him back. I was never going to see him again. I’d fucked up so royally and so profoundly that I’d never be able to fix this. I wanted to scream and cry. To retreat and give up. I wanted to fight and claw my way back to how it was before. I wanted to do so many things at once, but all I had the energy to do was lay down on the couch and curl up like the scared little girl I really was inside.