CHAPTER TWENTY
Lennon
The bell rings unexpectedly. I pause mid-motion, a freshly folded towel slipping from my hands. My first thought is Ruben, but then I shake it off. He’d text first.
I love his texts and calls. Ruben has this way of taking care of me that never feels suffocating. He hasn’t sent more flowers to the hospital. Instead, he spoils me with thoughtful deliveries. Smoothies, coffee, pastries, and an array of sandwiches that always hit the spot. Last night, he upped the ante with enough cheesecake brownies to feed an army. I shared them with my coworkers, much to their delight.
Ria, ever the shameless flirt, quipped, “If you don’t want that man, I’ll gladly take him.” Her words made my stomach twist with a possessiveness I didn’t know I had. Ruben isn’t just anyone’s. He’s mine. It’s early, maybe too early, but I can’t deny what’s happening. He’s weaving himself into my heart with every sweet gesture, every call, every moment. I’m falling for him, and there’s no stopping it now.
The bell rings again, more insistent this time. Whoever it is, they’re not going away. I wipe my hands on my jeans and head to the door, heart thudding for reasons I can’t quite explain. Gosh, I need to buy one of those modern gadgets with a camera.
Peeking through the peephole, I see a man in a suit. Crisp, sharp lines, like he’s walked straight out of a boardroom. His back is straight, his shoulders stiff, and though I can’t see his face clearly, the air around him practically hums with authority and something else. Annoyance.
I open the door a crack, keeping my hand on the edge just in case. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t wait for an invitation, stepping forward and forcing me to retreat as he crosses the threshold. I’m so startled I let him, his presence filling the small space like a storm cloud rolling in.
“We need to talk,” he says, his voice smooth but cold, like ice wrapped in velvet.
I don’t move to close the door behind him. My fingers tighten on its edge. “I have nothing to tell you. What are you doing here?”
He gives me a look, one eyebrow arching as though the question is beneath him. “You know why I’m here.”
Something in the pit of my stomach twists. “No, I don’t think I do.”
“Let’s not waste time, Lennon.” He adjusts his cuffs like this is a business meeting and not an uninvited ambush. “Your efforts with the theater, this little crusade of yours, it’s pointless. You’re wasting your energy.”
I stare at him, trying to process the audacity of this man barging into my home and telling me what to do. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a lost cause,” he continues, unbothered by my indignation. “The building is falling apart. The taxes are unpaid. The city’s about to take over. Why don’t you leave the owners to retire with some dignity?”
“And you’re better off without me fighting for it, is that it?” I snap, crossing my arms. “What are you afraid of? Of losing the battle?”
“It won’t happen, kid,” he counters smoothly. “I’m here to tell you that you’re wasting your time. No one’s going to save that place. And the sooner you accept that, the better.”
My jaw clenches, fury bubbling under my skin. “What gives you the right to come to my home and tell me what I can or can’t do?”
Finally, he pauses, his gaze narrowing. There’s a flicker of something in his expression, almost like pride. Or pity. “Because I’m the one making sure it’s done.”
The words hit like a slap.
“I know you’re behind this,” I say, his name dripping with disdain. “I figured that out a long time ago.”
He doesn’t deny it. Just adjusts his jacket, his gaze steady. “You can’t win this, Lennon. Walk away while you still have your pride intact.”
My hands shake, but I hold my ground, staring him down. “Get out of my house.”
“Lennon—”
“No.” My voice is firm, louder than I expect. “Listen to me for the first one in your life and never come back. I’m better off without you.”
His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he turns and walks out, his polished shoes clicking against the floor. I slam the door behind him, leaning against it as the weight of the encounter crashes over me.
Better off without him? Damn right I am.
I stand in front of the front window, my hands trembling with anger, watching as he gets into the black SUV and drives away. The air feels heavier, like the weight of his presence lingers even after he’s gone.
Finally, I let myself drop on the couch, exhaling shakily. I’m better without him. I’ve always been better without him. And now, for the first time, I’ve told him so.
Yeah, that was Aiden Fisher. My father and Ruben’s boss.