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Charlotte is silent the entire way home, her eyes never leaving the passenger side window. I drive her car, leaving mine at work in case Matt has some retaliatory idea of having her car towed from the premises. I grab her hand from her lap, lacing our fingers, and bring it to my mouth, rubbing my lips over her soft skin. I squeeze her hand gently and she looks at me, offering me a small smile before she returns her gaze back to the window, watching the tall buildings of the city turn to trees as we make our way into suburbia.
I pull into the garage and turn the car off, the sound of our unclicking seatbelts piercing the silence. “Charlotte,” I say softly. She looks at me, her brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Baby, please don’t cry. I promise everything will be okay.”
She swallows and shuts her eyes, squeezing her lids together, and when she opens them a lone tear trickles down her cheek. “You can’t promise me that.” Her voice wobbles, alerting me that she’s on the edge of a breakdown and that I need her in my arms. I’m out of the car in seconds, pulling her from her seat, and cradling her in my arms as I carry her through my house. I set her on the bed, pulling her shoes from her feet. I plant a kiss to both ankles and nod towards the head of the bed, telling her to move. She obeys and I wrap her in the blanket, pulling the covers up to her chin and kissing her cheek. “Get some rest, baby.” She doesn’t respond as she simply shuts her eyes, her lashes fanning out over her skin, worry etched across her features. I kiss her forehead, in hopes that the frown lines will soften, but the harshness of the ‘V’ between her eyebrows doesn’t fade. I run my knuckles down her cheek before I slip out of the room, in preparation of making the phone call I desperately do not want to make.
My hand shakes as I pour the tumbler of scotch almost to the brim and down the whole thing like a shot while my thumb hovers over the contact. I put the phone to my ear, fearing condemnation, yet expecting something even worse.
I suddenly feel like I’m twelve years old again.Get yourself together, Will. You’re a grown man.
“J.R. Montgomery,” his greeting is barked into the phone and I shake my head. It isn’t as if he hasn’t looked at the phone. He knows who’s on the other end.
But that was J.R.. Jack Robert Montgomery, the typical hardass father that resulted in his kids calling him by his first name and not “Dad.” As a matter of fact, the only time I really acknowledge my father in that capacity was on the designated day in June when we have to.
The only time my father could truly be counted on to show up was for my older brother or when my mother was hosting a dinner where she demanded his presence. I remember watching through the balusters of our staircase in equal parts fascination and disgust as my parents pretended to be the perfect couple in front of all the other WASPs in Georgia.
“J.R…Dad…” I rub my hand over my eyes, willing the strength from every deity there ever was. “Everything is…fucked.”
“Go on,” he says, his voice is even, with only a hint of condescension.
“Charley’s husband knows.”
It’s quiet, and for a second, I think he hung up, but then I hear his judgment. “How could you let that happen, William?” My fingers tighten around the glass upon hearing my full name. “How diditeven happen?”
“I don’t know.” I’m already exhausted from this conversation as the initial shock of the last few hours begins to wear off.I should have just slept this off with Charlotte. I should be wrapped up in her right now.I feel that familiar tingle in my fingers; they’re desperate to touch her smooth skin, to hold her warm body.
“Try again.”
My phone vibrates alerting me that I’ve received an email. For now, I ignore it, knowing J.R. rarely waited longer than a few seconds when he asked a question. “He showed up at my office. J.R… I don’t —” I sigh. “I think I need a lawyer.”That was about as close to “I need you” as I was willing to go. So, he better not be a dick about it.
I hear the slam of a door, and then his voice resounding through the phone. “Forward my calls, I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.” I can just picture him barking orders to his new assistant I met last week. A young, red-haired woman, fresh-faced out of law school, unknowing of what her life is about to become while working for the tyrannical J.R. Montgomery. I wince, feeling for her. I wonder how long it will take until she goes home in tears, having just been verbally ripped apart at the hands of my father.How long ‘till she feels she isn’t good enough?There’s a reason why there is such a high turnover rate of women working for my father. He has unreasonable expectations, demanding perfection, and doling out harsh consequences to anyone that falls short.
I know that all too well.
Unless, of course, he’s sleeping with this one. I wince, thinking about my formative years, watching as my mom made dinners where my father was frequently absent. The nights he wasn’t home because he was “working late.” I didn’t understand until much later, in adolescence, that my father had strayed from my mother on more than one occasion.
My mother simply turned a blind eye.
“I’ll be there in twenty, William. Is Charlotte there?”
“Yes.” I sigh, hoping to the heavens that she can just stay asleep until after hurricane J.R. whips through my house.
“Good, I’ll need to speak with you both.”
“Is that really necessary? She’s already a little skittish around you. I don’t need you exploding all over her.”
“What reason does she have to be skittish?”
“Don’t bullshit me. You used your position as my father to try and intimidate the shit out of her, knowing you could.”
“Watch your language, William.” I hear his car start—a brand new black on black Maserati that no doubt cost more than a year of my salary.
“Keep your attitude in check towards her, J.R., I mean it.” Charley is already on edge; her nerves are wound so tight she may snap at any second.
“You think I’m bad, you just wait until your mother gets wind of this. She’s even less of a fan of your…girlfriend than I am.”
Rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm, I think about my mother. I groan inwardly.“Do not tell her to come here.”
“No, I’m leaving her in the dark for now. We are going to get this under control.”
