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“Her name is Whitney, and yes she’s very much aware.” Aillard pinches the bridge of his nose. His tone changes then, less authoritative and more fatigued. “I get it, I’m the bad guy in your story. One of many. And for once I won’t argue that I shouldn’t be because I know I am. I’m not going to apologize for doing what I thought was right at the time for my best friend, but he needs your help right now.”
So thisisabout the mutual person we share in common. Which makes this an easy choice. “He needs to go pound sand.” I point out of the shiny office window that faces the east. “The ocean’s that way. Tell him to have at it.”
Dad sighs.
Aillard’s jaw tightens. “It was eight years ago–”
“When you ripped my life away from me,” I finish for him. “Left me on campus for two years to deal with the fallout you and King created.”
The anger of Dad having recently cut me off because of my degree change to English from Nonprofit Management, Nana Noel trying to cheer me up with a trip to Las Vegas with her timeshare, and finding Thorin felt like kismet. Then after everything went down, I refused to cower like the victim I felt like when King and Aillard ripped my reputation and life to shreds.
“You couldn’t stand that your friend went off to Las Vegas and fell in love with me and we got married way too fast. It wasn’t a ‘Hey, maybe you two should slow down after spending every waking moment of the summer together.’ No, you lied about who I was, what I wanted with him to theentirecampus and made everyone bully and hate me after you all graduated and left. I had no idea he was engaged, he didn’t say anything to me about it and I didn’t know who he was or his family name in Las Vegas because heliedto me. The people you poisoned about me didn’t magically go away when you all did. Well congratulations, Aillard, I don’t want anything to do with any of you after going through that. Just like you wanted.”
“You don’t understand what it’s like being one of us,” he snaps.
I pull in another deep breath to find some semblance of calm. “You’re right,” I say evenly, “I don’t. You all made sure of that.” Then, to put the final nail in this conversation that should have ended long before it began, I say, “Why don’t you go ask his wife? I’m the mistress, remember? I’m a gold digger. A nobody. A name trying to attach myself to a free ride in the hopes of being, what was it you called me, an escort? A whore? I honestly can’t remember but you get the gist.”
No one says anything to that.
What is there to say?
Those were Aillard’s words. When he spoke, people listened. And unfortunately when he speaks to you, his words have a tendency to burn into your memory.
“I’ll find other donors. I’ll do literallyanythingto never see your vapid face again,” I snap.
But Aillard doesn’t storm out like I expect him to. He barely moves from his casual stance. Despite the growing desperation suddenly flashing on his face, he barely seems affected by my words. “King wants you to help him. We thought as the person who loved him, you would want to help him. Not us. This, me standing here telling you that I’ll do whatever it takes such as withhold money from a prestigious foundation for you to take the fucking meeting at Ward Enterprises, is for him.”
What Aillard wants is next to impossible. He wants me to do something, hell I don’t even know what and I don’t want to, to help one of his best friends.
To help one of the top ten richest people in the world.
To help the owner of the most luxurious hotel chains on the planet, and when conceivable, probably Mars too.
He wants me to help myex-husband.
The media calls Thorin Ravenscroft a bright, shining star. He’s a genius, business savvy, and an all around great man. They don’t paint the picture of the callous man behind the curtain.
How could they?
They painted me as the wench instead.
“Please, Bex.” Aillard’s voice sounds like he’s chewing gravel, forcing words out that he’s not quite sure how to pronounce. And I hate being the kind person I am. Because I truly believe people deserve chances to rectify themselves. I wouldn’t be in the business of making dreams come true if I didn’t.
But Thorin Ravenscroft? How do you take a chance on the devil and his friends?
“I’ll take the meeting, but I’m not promising to agree to anything that helps any of you out of whatever clusterfuck you found yourselves in.” I hate the way my voice shakes as I agree. The way my soul screams out in indignation. I want to take the words back immediately, but I know why I say them.
What if this is my chance at closure? What if I can finally put these unhealthy feelings to bed and move on without questioning people’s choices like I have since I met Thorin Ravenscroft? Isn’t it worth it to know? To say goodbye to a part of me better left buried?
The last part is what does me in. I need to put Thorin Ravenscroft to rest.
The relief on Dad’s face is palpable. “Thank you, Bex.”
Aillard clears his throat. “That’s all I came here to discuss. Tomorrow at ten is when the meeting will occur. Sign in as a guest and they’ll escort you to the conference room. I won’t be able to make it, unfortunately.”
He sounds like he doesn’t give a shit at attending either way. His role is done. He got me to agree to a meeting.
“Why didn’t King come here, demanding I see him?” I ask.
