Chapter 14 Harry
Harry
“And, with the sponsorship of the Foundation, we will build eighteen more centres around the world, as well as train and employ hundreds of nurses, technicians, doctors and surgeons, and provide free healthcare for anyone in the surrounding areas.”
I stared numbly at Darcy Hastings as he lifted the remote up to the screen in the glass-walled conference room and clicked to the next image.
A group of happy doctors appeared, all grinning at the camera outside the new medical research facility – the first of many, if Darcy got his way.
“We’re asking for five hundred million to launch the project, with a five-year time frame, and two-hundred-and-fifty million each following year until the entire project comes to fruition.
We hope to use any extra funds to assist local general practices based around the hospitals and research facilities. ”
Darcy had on his plastic smile, but he was so good at it by now that it reached his eyes as he stood before the ten of us gathered around the boardroom table.
I could see why Dom slept with him.
Perfect curls, a perfect veneer, and a gorgeous body hidden under an expensive suit that he always flaunted in the summer. He even had dimples, for God’s sake.
Dom might not have slept with him during the Summer Gala on the boat, but they had known each other long enough that they must have fucked at least once.
Bastards.
“I’ve supplied folders that lay out a specific plan of expansion for the first two years, as well as predicted costs, labour, and other necessary requirements. There are several organisations and collectives already interested in participating in the project.”
I didn’t touch my folder, even though the members of the Board had been rifling through theirs as Darcy spoke.
“We have also presented this proposal to several other organisations, but my grandfather and I wanted to give you the chance to bid first, given that he’s on the board.” We’d excluded Lord Hastings from the presentation for that very reason.
“The bidding will begin in two weeks.” Darcy continued. “Do you have any questions?”
“No, thank you,” I replied, pushing my folder away from me. “That will be all.”
I didn’t want to drag this out any further. It had only been two days since I ran from Dom’s flat, and I could barely cope with anything happening around me, let alone the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside me.
Darcy’s mask flickered for a second, the tiniest hint of annoyance crossing his face before that beaming smile returned.
“Well, thank you all so much for this opportunity. It has been wonderful meeting you again.” Like he hadn’t snuck onto the yacht a fortnight ago.
“You’ll be hearing from us soon,” I said. My voice was flat, almost dead, as I dismissed him.
Darcy gathered up his folder and briefcase, flashing me a knowing smirk as he sailed past and left through the door behind me.
I briefly wondered if he was planning to blackmail me after seeing Dom and me almost kissing, but at this point, I really didn’t care. The drama would be a good distraction from everything else.
There was silence around the conference table, until Mr Collin’s cleared his throat, beginning with his usual advance. “Well, I would say that was a very interesting project indeed.” He clasped his hands together, leaning forwards, preparing for the discussion.
He was one of the Board members who had voted against me taking leadership, and had protested strongly when I dismissed Mum from her role on the Board.
Along with Lord Hastings, the younger Ms Deveroux’s and Madame Lavigne, as well as Mum, naturally.
But thankfully, they only made up five out of the eleven votes.
After a presentation, our routine was to spend an hour discussing both the pros and the cons of a project. But I didn’t have the patience to wrangle with them today. I refused to sit for an hour listening to them discuss the benefits as if it didn’t matter that people’s lives were at stake.
“I believe it’s obvious that we will go ahead with this project,” I said before any chatter could start.
A number of Board members opened their mouths to protest, but I cut them off.
“Five hundred million is a small price to pay to set up free health centres in third-world and war-torn countries. We will put in a bid for seven-hundred-and-fifty to cover overruns and future costs. This requires no further discussion.” I rose from my chair, and nausea hit me deep in my stomach as stars burst behind my eyes.
I disguised the head rush by placing my hand firmly on the back of the chair.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, hoping that the other members didn’t catch my moment of weakness. I had let myself show far too much recently. It was why I was in this situation in the first place.
Tucking the folder under my arm, I kept my pace neutral as I left them to it. They could discuss it all they wanted; my decision was final. I focused solely on keeping myself upright as I weaved through corridors to reach my office.
The moment I stepped inside, I slammed the door behind me, my back falling against it, gasping furiously as bile rose to the back of my throat. I threw the folder on the sofa near the door, clutching my chest at the brutal, raw ache that pounded through it.
The pain I’d forced down before I left for the meeting tore through, and my head knocked back, a low groan echoing deep in my chest.
Stumbling to the bathroom, I locked the door and dropped onto the sofa where I’d fantasised about Dom. I choked as I threaded my fingers in my hair, just like Dom had. Tearing at myself as I pitched forwards, sending my head between my legs.
I’d done that when I first came into the office that morning as well, but it hadn’t helped.
I tried to breathe, but everything was wrong and fucked up, and more tears assaulted me as the memories of yesterday took over; of Molly’s phone call and Dom’s confirmation, of his kisses, the feel of his mouth on me, around me, loving every part of me.
Weeks I had been fantasising about it, and for all those weeks it had been him. But, just because I was the sick bastard who wanted him to fuck me while thinking I was texting my fiancée didn’t make it any better.
I choked a sob as I clenched my fingers, rocking back and forth, trying to gain some semblance of normalcy.
My guilt and his crime were two different matters. They didn’t cancel each other out.
But Dom had always felt in control and sure of his sexuality.
He knew what he wanted, and trapping him under me like that gave me a sense of power I hadn’t experienced during sex.
I didn’t see it as a test of my knowledge or a pressure to prove my capability as a man to pleasure someone else.
I just let myself go. It would have been too much to ask Dom if he enjoyed it, even though his smile at the end as I lay on top of him stuck with me.
Why did he think pretending to be Molly was better than telling me how he really felt? What the hell was running through his mind whenever he texted me?
And he’d been getting off on me. I knew he had. Why else would he want me to do all that if he wasn’t getting off, too?
I groaned at the thought. Those waves of lust were strangling me. Even when I was breaking inside, I still wanted him. Even if I never forgave him, the physical need to feel his skin on mine, his hands wrapped around me, his fingers inside me, it wouldn’t ever leave.
What exactly was he doing when he sent me instructions? How did he stroke himself? Did he moan and cry my name? Or was he holding the phone, laughing at how far he could get me to degrade myself just to feel a connection again?
There was a gentle knock on the door, jerking me out of my spiral of despair. I shot up, dizziness taking over.
“Harry?” Anita called from the other side. “Are you in there?”
I forced myself to stand, grabbing the towel rail on my left to steady myself before I shook my shoulders to get rid of the tension.
Mum always insisted we kept our heads high and our backs straight for times like this, but it seemed every attempt just made it harder. But I still followed her advice.
I tugged at my jacket, pulling it down, giving my eyes a quick wipe with my thumbs as I cleared my throat and I reached the door.
Opening it a crack, I leant against the handle, supporting myself. I could barely take the weight of everything that had happened yesterday, let alone carry myself.
Anita ran her eyes over what little she could see of me, pursing her lips in concern. “Darcy Hastings would like to speak to you privately,” she said softly.
I opened the door further, eyes so heavy that I wasn’t even sure I could manage another five minutes in this place without passing out.
“How do I look?” I asked, already aware that a stray cat had more appeal than I had.
She grimaced, taking in my puffy, stained cheeks. But it was my hair that pulled her attention, which must have been ruffled from my grasp.
“Give me ten minutes.” I gave her a tired smile.
“Good idea.” She nodded briskly before walking away.
Closing the door, I went to the mirror. I didn’t recognise the person who stared back at me.
There was nothing to find there. Any shred of humanity I might have had fled me yesterday, and I was stuck in a vortex of questions that pounded relentlessly around my head as I forced myself through the day.
I had nine days before Molly returned to decide what to say to her, all while I attempted to hold myself together.
I could feel myself drawing closer to a crash. I just had to stay firm until the storm passed.
Then maybe, just maybe, my life could go back to normal. If it was ever normal to begin with.