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Complete darkness.
I am alone.
I have to get out.
“Open the door, Cal,” I demand, slamming my hand against the glass.
He ignores my request, focusing his attention on Jaxon instead. “I’ll deal with you later,” he says. Then his strong arms lift me off the ground and throw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask as he carries me through the restaurant, once again ignoring me.
“We’ll mail your final check,” he says to Ava as he walks past where she stands.
“You’re firing me?” she asks, genuinely surprised.
“You just fucked my bartender in a public restroom, and you thought I wouldn’t?” he replies flatly then continues his path down the hallway past Carlos’s office to a door on the right.
Once we’re inside, he sets me on my feet and walks over to sit in his chair. I stand there until my breathing settles, then take a seat in the white leather chair across from him. For what feels like hours, we stare at each other in silence.
Cal’s office is the polar opposite of Carlos’s. While his father’s office emanates tradition and elegance, Cal’s embodies organization and control. His desk is made of a glossy, black stone with heavy, silver legs that taper in as they reach the floor. The chair I sit in is one of two white leather chairs with square arms and backs. In between them is a black stone table that matches his desk. On the wall behind him are floating shelves. There is no overhead lighting, only a skylight, and a few small, half-circle sconces spaced evenly apart on the light gray walls. Other than that, there is nothing else in the room—other than a door I assume leads to the bathroom he mentioned. No art. No elaborate rugs. No lamps. Just a laptop and cell phone on his desk. His office perfectly matches his personality, cold and sterile. Nothing warm and cozy about it.
“You want to get angry? Go ahead,” he says, breaking the silence and still staring at me. “You want to hit something? Be my guest. You want to hit me? Here I am. You want to yell? No one will hear you.”
Part of me wants to take him up on his offer. It seems so appealing. I have a feeling he has seen his fair share of crazy. It wouldn’t be new for him.
“He’s right,” I say softly. I look down at my hands and nervously pick at my fingernails. “You know, I’m not mad at Jaxon for what he just did. I don’t even blame him for it.”
I wait for Cal to say something sarcastic or mean, but he just sits there, leaning back in his chair, fingers locked together in his lap while he listens patiently.
“When I finally realized Reid wasn’t coming back, I decided to do what I do best… keep myself so busy I forget he’s gone. Just like every other time he was gone. So, I went back to school. And before I knew it, the days were just disappearing one by one. As long as I kept busy, I didn’t have time to think. And as long as I wasn’t thinking, I was okay.”
I startle myself at my transparency. I have never been this open with anyone, not even Brynn. Why now? Why Cal? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I know I won’t get any sympathy from him. I’m not looking for sympathy. I just need to say all the things I’ve been feeling out loud, and he’s just here to listen, not to judge.
“I can’t even fall asleep anymore without drinking,” I admit.
It hits me like a freight train. All the emotions I’ve been trying to pretend aren’t there bubble to the surface and begin to boil over.
“He left me.” My tone is bolder, more urgent, and I have to stand up, because I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin.
“Reid left me here. Alone. To deal with all the shit. His father. The money. That man… the one who…” I can’t even finish my sentence, so I move forward, “To deal with guys like Carter and Jaxon. I just want to be normal. I want to worry about things normal people worry about. Like planning a wedding or what to cook for dinner. But instead I worry about how I’m going to pass the time after I graduate in December, or what happens when Brynn finally falls in love, leaving me with no one at all.” My voice cracks, and I can’t fight the sarcastic laugh that leaves my throat. “How sad is that? I spoon with my best friend when I’m lonely.”
The words are just spilling out now, words I’ve always felt but never spoken.
Until now.
Cal shifts positions in his chair, sitting up straight, but still not interrupting. It’s like he knows I need this, and his sole purpose is to give it to me. I guess in his own way that’s what he’s always done—give me what I need when I need it, no questions asked. And I’ve wasted all my energy hating him for it because I was too afraid let myself feel anything else.
I keep going. “And I’m mad at him for that. I’m so fucking mad. But I don’t want to be mad at Reid… because I still love him. So much.” I cover my face with my hands to keep Cal from seeing me cry. I quickly get it back under control, wiping my tears and attempting a smile. “And that’s why I can’t let him go. Because I need to forgive him first. And as long as I’m mad at him, that can’t happen.”
Cal gets out of his chair then walks around his desk and in my direction. My heart rate escalates as I watch him move gracefully across the room.
“And then there’s you,” I say, as if he’s some sort of anomaly.
He approaches me slowly. “What about me?”
“You…” I clear my throat to buy myself time to find the words, “First, you can’t stand me. Then you’re ripping my clothes off in your father’s office. And you say these… these things. Things about how you think of me and how I’m beautiful. Then you just disappear. Then you’re back again. And every time I’m around you, I feel things. Things I shouldn’t feel. Things I don’t understand.”
“Why don’t you understand them?”
