“You might want to put her back in her seat before you eat; she’s into reaching for things.” He nods to Michaela. I hand her back to her daddy knowing damn well I won’t know how to secure her into that thing.
“This looks amazing,” I tell him as I sit down and pull my chair in. “Ash made this herself?”
Tanner nods proudly. “She’s been on this organic kick. She says we should know everything that goes into our food. She’s been making everything from scratch for a while now.”
Sounds like Ashley. Started during her pregnancy with Michaela. Don’t know why I thought she might have given up on the whole clean eating thing.
“So what’s going on, Quinn?” Tanner doesn’t hesitate to dive right into the thick of things. “Alex told us what your dad is doing to you. But he also seems to think you’re still hiding something. Which I can’t argue with. He’s usually spot on when it comes to you.”
I should’ve known Alex would tell them what’s going on. His concern was undeniable when he came over that morning. “Since he told you, you know what I’m dealing with.”
“I also know how you handle yourself during times like this,” he says leveling me with a stare that’s hard to ignore. “You can’t bury your problems with your father underneath taking care of Jordan. You can’t put yourself last right now. You need to let people in.”
“I did let someone in,” I remind him. “I let Jordan in, and we were handling it. Then I let Alex in.”
“But you’re still hiding something. We know you, babe. You don’t do anything you don’t want to unless you absolutely have to. There’s more to this than you’re letting on…”
I open my mouth to interrupt him, but he doesn’t let me speak.
“You need to let someone in. I understand why you didn’t tell Ashley. She wouldn’t have understood and she knows that now. If you can’t let her in, try me. I’ll gladly listen and do whatever I can to help you. But if you don’t think you can trust me, try someone else. Try Alex. You’ve already let him in part of the way, so go the distance. No matter what is going on, you need someone to be there for you. Regardless of anything else. Someone who won’t judge you. Someone you trust. Otherwise you’re going to lose yourself.”
He grips my hand in his and gives a sad smile as if he knows how I feel. But he can’t know how I feel. No one can truly understand the thousands of pounds of pressure sitting on my shoulders. No one understands that I’m walking around constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. For my life to entirely implode. I know he means well and this is coming from a place of love, but the situation just isn’t that easy.
With Jordan’s father gone, things have changed. He has no reason to stay if he doesn’t want to. He got what he wanted from this arrangement. I wouldn’t blame him in the least if he didn’t want to go through with this now. He doesn’t need to.
And I don’t want to do this anymore either. I really don’t want to get married to someone I don’t love with my whole being, but I don’t see what other choice I have at the moment. I need more time to figure it all out, and telling Jordan the truth could leave me out of all options.
IT SEEMS THAT during the two weeks I was gone, everything went to shit. I’ve been back in the office for almost a full week and I’m still cleaning shit up. It’s as though my father didn’t have anyone fill in for me and let it all pile up to drown me upon my return. I was supposed to be out on my honeymoon any way. But I guess because the wedding hasn’t happened yet, this was his punishment. As if I had any control over Martin’s health.
“I put these in order of importance for you,” my assistant, Kendra, tells me as she lays down a stack of messages for me. I’ve had her hold all my calls this morning so that I could go through the stack of paperwork waiting for a signature. Before putting my name on anything lately, I make sure everything I’m handed has every ‘I’ dotted and every ‘T’ crossed. My father has proven he cannot be trusted. Giving him anything he can use against me is not a part of my plan. Which is why I’ve been going through everything that’s been piling up with the finest of fine-tooth combs.
It would be very easy for him to slip something into this pile, thinking I’d just breeze through things to catch up. Not going to happen. With the wedding currently on hold, I’m sure he’s working on something to have in his back pocket just in case.
Jordan and I haven’t sat down to discuss anything related to setting a new date for the wedding. It’s only been a few weeks since we lost his father. He also has a company to run. He’s been in meeting after meeting with the interim CEO that’s been set up to help Jordan transition into President of City Capital.
He also makes a point to try and get to see his mom as often as possible. Neither one of us really likes the thought of her all by herself in that big old house, surrounded by memories of her husband.
“Thank you,” I smile at Kendra, thankful she’s so good at her job.
“Also…” she begins, the regret in her eyes telling me I’m not going to like what she has to say next. “Mr. Taylor called. He wanted me to tell you he’ll be down to see you shortly since you weren’t taking any calls.”
I try my hardest to keep my eyes from rolling, wanting to remain professional. But it doesn’t work. They roll back despite my best efforts.
“I would’ve put him through if I knew he was going to make it a point to come down instead,” she says, her big brown eyes apologizing.
“It’s okay. I’d have to meet with him regardless.” At least now he’s forced to come to me. A small silver lining in the situation. I really do love it when I can inconvenience him. “Why don’t you head out to take your lunch so you don’t have to deal with him too? I’m sure he’ll be down any minute.”
A look of relief flashes across her face. I wish I could get out of having to see him as well. But it’s inevitable. He’s checking up on me. Trying to gauge how well I’m handling all this crap he’s dumping on me. He could’ve damn well handled a majority of this stuff, but why would he when he can toss it onto me? And use it as a test.
Kendra dashes from my office, and a moment later, I see her wave as she passes by my open door. Her purse and coat draped over her arm as she jets away as swiftly as possible.
I only have time to return two calls before my father’s figure looms in my doorway. He closes my office door behind him as I finish up my call with an investor.
“How are things with Jordan and his mother?” he asks. “It’s been almost a month, surely it’s time to get things back on track.”
A month? He thinks a month is plenty of time for a family to move on from losing a vital member? After losing half of their foundation? Although, let’s not forget this is a man who wouldn’t even shed a tear at the loss of his own spouse. Don’t know why I expected him to have any compassion at all.
I will myself to keep my emotions intact while I answer him. Letting him know he affects me in anyway just fuels him even more. It’s like he gets off on making my life hell. “They’re still adjusting. No new plans have been made as of yet.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m still thinking clearly. Someone needs to remember priorities around here.” Ironic the only person who needs a lesson in priorities is the one claiming he’s the one with them in order. I want to ask him what the hell he has done now, but I won’t. It feeds him. Since he enjoys hearing himself speak, I know it’ll only be a matter of seconds before he tells me anyway.
I stare at the monster in front of me as he lowers himself into one of the bright geometrically patterned chairs on the opposite side of my desk. His pant leg rises as he rests his ankle on his knee, displaying his hideous cashmere socks. Everything about him is ugly down to his socks. How had I ever idolized this man?
“The Plaza had a cancellation for the first weekend in January. With a little padding, I was able to get your name moved to the top of the waiting list. When I called Diana to tell her the good news, she seemed so excited. You’re new wedding date is J
anuary fourth,” he informs me, not once looking up to address me directly. He stares down at his fingernails, his cuticles more deserving of his attention.
How could he think that he could just swoop in and decide when I was getting married? Who is he to tell a family when it’s time to move on? “Why would you do that? Neither Jordan nor his mother is ready to have a wedding. How dare you throw that at her? And that’s only seven weeks away.”
His eyes meet mine now. Blue eyes very similar to the ones I see in the mirror each day turn to ice as he speaks. “Because you still have a job to complete. You haven’t married him yet. You haven’t secured a merger of companies. Now is the time to take advantage of the distraction Martin’s death gave you and take charge. This merger should’ve been started a month ago. When you were supposed to get married.”
“A merger isn’t going to be something high up on the list of importance over there. The interim CEO hasn’t even handed over the reins to Jordan yet. He’s not in control.”
“Well, you better find a way to get the acting boss and your fiancé on board with getting things rolling. Unless, of course, you plan on hashing everything out from prison.”
A cold chill runs down my spine. Even though this isn’t the first he has spoken the threat, it still stuns me. I’ll never understand how he can so callously toss it out there.
“I see that still isn’t something you’re interested in. It’s understandable. So I suggest you start making new arrangements for your nuptials. And while you’re at it, you should start prepping Jordan for this merger. I’m sure you can find a way to convince him,” he smirks. I assume that was another underhanded sexual innuendo about the office chatter he’s heard regarding my former infamous string of one-night stands he mentioned in his initial proposition.
Fucking asshole!
Not every man is a piece of shit like him and thinks with his dick.
The day I don’t have to deal with this man can’t come quickly enough. I just have to figure out how to get to that day. I still don’t think going through with this wedding is the best thing for anyone, but it still seems like my only option.
STARING AT THE tear in the leather mitt on my trainer’s right hand, I imagine it’s everything currently wrong in my life. It’s my father. It’s losing Jordan’s dad. It’s the stupid predicament I’ve found myself in. It’s wanting to be a good person and not let anyone down. It’s continually letting myself and everyone else down. I heave every ounce of anger and frustration I can muster into each punch that lands on that mitt.
How much can one person take before they break? Because I’m pretty sure that I’m on the brink of a total collapse. So much pressure. So much stress. So much hurt. My life has become this ugly loop of devastation that seems to run on repeat. Nothing is ever as it seems for me anymore. Keeping up this act is slowly killing me inside.
A reel of images keeps running through my mind. None of them fit together or even belong near each other. Alex’s face telling me he just wants me to be happy. Jordan’s endless support over the last six months. The joy in Diana and Martin’s eyes as Jordan and I told them we were getting married. My father’s disgusting display of his true colors as he threatened me with jail time. The look on his face as he reminded me that Martin’s death didn’t get me out of the wedding.
How do I choose who to hurt? I don’t want to hurt anyone other than my piece of shit father. Jordan and Diana just lost so much; how do I add to that? I don’t want to. They welcomed me into their circle and treated me as if I’d been family forever. I’ve never been a part of a family dynamic such as theirs. I’ve never truly been a top priority to anyone, not the way I am to them. I sat there at the funeral with Jordan on one side and Diana on the other, both of them gripping my hands as if I alone were their only salvation. I’ve never been needed like that before and haven’t ever felt that important to anyone.
I’ve been doing my best to hold them together for the last few weeks. Everything I went through with Ashley after her accident and losing her baby helped me know exactly what I needed to do for them. I had experience in planning a funeral, but this time everything I did was actually appreciated. It was nice to be needed and valued. So how do I tell them I can’t go through with the wedding?
Besides the loss of his father, Jordan is under a lot of stress, making me even more apprehensive of piling more onto him. He’s already got so much going on. He’s been keeping longer hours at work the last few weeks and he’s dealing with big changes at his company. It wasn’t a secret that Jordan was taking over, but I don’t think anyone expected it this soon. It looked like Martin was going to go into remission, but then the opposite happened and the cancer started to progress again, at twice the rate. We didn’t know. He didn’t tell us. So everyone was completely shocked when boom, gone. Of course one of the best men I’ve ever met had to get one of the most aggressive forms of cancer. Fuck cancer!
My knee connects with Billy’s side, and the anger I feel toward the universe taking Martin fuels the second and third hits.
Diana’s words echo through my head. “I’m so happy Martin got the see Jordan and you together before he passed.” Those aren’t the only words swirling around in there, though. My father’s threats, Alex’s pleas, Ashley’s words from months ago telling me I’m a hypocrite, Blair telling me the same thing, Jordan thanking me for giving his father what he wanted before he was gone. It just cycles over and over, an endless loop of guilt and grief and fear. I can’t handle it. I can’t take all the conflicting thoughts and feelings rushing through me like a tsunami of warring emotions.
I’m going down.
It’s pulling me under, suffocating me slowly but surely.
Holding me prisoner and I can’t break free.
I’m going to drown.
“Whoa,” Billy calls out. “Stop.”
I hear him but I can’t seem to make my body stop moving. My arms keep going, punch after punch aimed at the mitts until Billy somehow morphs into Alex. Why is my mind picturing Alex? Alex has the least to do with my constant turmoil. Maybe this is karma’s way of punishing me for what I did to him. Everything he said to me that day he came to my place for answers was correct.
I am a coward. I didn’t want to know the truth about us. I did what I do best and pushed the feelings down so I could force Alex into a box he didn’t belong in. Simply because it was easier for me. He has shown me the man he is time and time again but it was easier for me to push him away.
I wonder if taking the promotion away from me all those years ago was just the beginning of my father’s plan. My father had to know that I’d never agree to leave a boyfriend of my choosing to marry a man of his. The motherfucker knew even then threatening my job was the way to manipulate me into doing anything. How he knew that Alex would give me the opportunity to twist something to fit my deranged way of thinking is beyond me. How does everything seem to work in his favor? How can one piece of shit asshole get everything to go right for him? And I can’t get a single fucking thing to work out for me? Not a single one. Everything comes with a stipulation and consequence. I can’t fucking take it anymore!
I don’t know when the anger leaves me and turns into sorrow, but before I even realize what’s happening, loud sobs rip from my throat as I fall to the ground and crack. The battered soul inside finally giving in, splintering into so many pieces that I’m sure a few of them are lost forever.
Strong, sure arms wrap themselves around my shaking body and a soft, comforting voice whispers in my ear, “It’s okay, angel. Let it out.”
Warmth immediately spreads through my body at the sound of his voice. I’m so far gone my mind is imagining Alex to protect itself.
It must be time for me to head into a padded room because my illusion of Alex is now rocking and shushing me in the middle of the gym while I have an emotional breakdown. I look up to see what the hell is going on, and I find the real Alex staring back at me.
He’s an amazing sight for sore e
yes. His fit body covered in a tank top and basketball shorts. A green towel thrown over his shoulder that’s almost a perfect match to his eyes. His beautiful hair is tied in a bun that’s nicer than mine. He’s really here.
“You’re real?” The words slip from my lips before I can rope them back in. “How?”
“I’m real,” he whispers. “I came here to do the same thing you’re doing, but I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“But you’re not Billy,” I state the obvious since my brain has decided that today is the day it wants to quit working.
“No, I’m not,” he laughs before his voice turns serious. “You gave Billy a little scare there. You were so far gone. Did you even notice your knuckles are bleeding through the tape on your hands?”
I look down at my fingers through tears pooled in my eyes and see the white tape is stained with streaks of red and my hands are a bloody mess. I didn’t feel it at all. Nothing. Not a damn thing. Maybe I’ve finally reached the point of no return and have officially lost what little was left inside me.
“It’s time we finish our talk, angel,” Alex says gently. “You can’t keep going on like this. You need to talk to someone. I know something else is going on here, and whatever it is scares the hell out of you, but keeping everything all bottled up inside is killing you. You just scared the hell out of me too. So here’s what we’re going to do: you’re going to head into that locker room and take a hot shower. You’re going to meet me back out here in twenty minutes, and we’re going to go somewhere and talk everything out. You can trust me, Quinn. I promise.”
He doesn’t even give me the chance to object before he’s helping me to my feet and pushing me into the locker room. Right now I feel as though I have no control over my body. Almost as if my brain shut down part of itself and is running solely on instinct.
Irrefutable (The Apprehensive Duet Book 2) Page 4
