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She looks toward me and then murmurs something to him, her eyes flickering toward me as she says it.
Caleb stiffens...and marches back toward the curtain my father disappeared behind seconds earlier.
“I have no idea what’s happening,” says Mark.
I nod in agreement, though I’m starting to put it together.
Because my session was mysteriously cancelled and replaced with a presentation by anUnderwoodemployee, and Caleb just took off after Robert as if he’s going to kick his ass.
Myfathertold them to cancel me. It wasn’t enough to erase my presence as a child. He’s doing it here, in a professional setting. Maybe he was worried I’d mention him if given a public forum—does he not realize just how much morepublicthis could get? My mother signed an NDA.Ihaven’t signed shit. And sabotaging me professionally isnotthe way to keep me silent.
I run up the stage steps and push back the curtain just as Caleb’s fist slams into Robert’s face. The only thing keeping my father upright are the guys in suits behind him. I’m standing by Caleb’s side when he finally looks back at us, and there’s recognition in his eyes—which I guess makes sense given how much I resemble my mom.
This is a moment I’ve pictured a thousand times: the way he’d suddenly realize everything he gave up and the wave of remorse that would hit him afterward. But those were dreams I had as a kid, as a teen. I know they’re not going to come true now, and more importantly...I no longercare. This asshole let me shuffle from apartments to trailer homes my entire fucking childhood, let me scrape around for scholarships and financial aid to get my degree, and today he cancelled my presentation.
Caleb was right. I didn’t need to prove myself—I entered the world a better human than this man could ever be, and there’s not an apology in the world that could induce me to forgive him now.
“I hope you have a good lawyer,” my father says to Calebwhile he wipes blood from his face with his sleeve, “because I’m going to sue you until you’ve got nothing left.”
That’s when I laugh, the sound a surprise even to me. He’s far stupider than I thought if he doesn’t realize how very, very easily I could destroy his precious “family is everything” reputation with a few choice words. “Theresponsible thing,” I snap, “would be to walk away as if this never happened. You wouldn’t want us all putting outourversion of events, would you?”
“I won’t be bullied,” he sneers.
“Oh, it’syouwho’s been bullied?” I ask. “Are you sure? We’ll see what the press thinks.”
His mouth opens, ready to spout off another threat...and I stare him down.I will tell the whole fucking world who I am and thus, who you are. And we both know you don’t want that.
Two tense, silent seconds pass before my father looks away. “He’s not worth it,” he says to the group with him. “Let’s go.”
“If there’s any fallout from this,” I add to his back, “any fallout whatsoever, we’ll be providing our ownvery detailedaccount.”
He stiffens, then continues walking. It’s only when I turn to Caleb and see the frown on his face that I realize I’m shaking. I feel like I might pass out.
He places a firm hand on my hip. “I’m not attending the luncheon,” he tells Mark, guiding me away.
“Caleb, you’re getting an award,” Mark calls from behind us.
“They should have thought about that before they cancelled Lucie’s session,” Caleb replies, leading me to the elevator doors.
“Where are we going?”
“Away from the crowd,” he says. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
We squeeze into the crowded elevator, and I stare at our reflections in the gold-plated doors—Caleb, tall and handsome and certain; me in front of him, small and safe with my back tohis chest, his hand resting gently on my hip to make sure no one bumps me.
Jeremy used to promise he’d do anything for me, but they were mere words—he never defended me once—while Caleb not only defended me today but put everything at risk to do it. If word gets out that he hit Robert Underwood, it could definitely mess up the merger.
He says he doesn’t want a commitment, that he doesn’t want the responsibility...but he behaves like a man who already has them. And the longer I stare at the two of us in the elevator doors, the less it matters to me that he refuses to be the prince in my fairy tale, that we want different things. Because this is already more than I’ve had with anyone else, more than I willeverhave with anyone else.
The bell for the fourteenth floor pings and he leads me off, using his keycard to open a spacious suite. “I’m so sorry, Lucie,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about what happened at work. Iamgoing to make Mark your supervisor because I’m clearly in way over my—”
I grab his lapels, go onto my toes, and press my lips to his.
He’s stiff, shocked, frozen.
It’s the world’s least romantic, most mortifying kiss. I let him go, an apology ready. “I’m—”
The next words die on my lips as his hands wrap around my waist.
