38. Vaughn
THIRTY-EIGHT
VAUGHN
Waiting was agony. I tried to work, but legal issues and construction snags only made my temples pulse with pain.
I couldn’t even spend time with my daughter, because she was at her mother’s place for the week I’d given up.
I checked my phone incessantly and forced myself not to send Alba a barrage of messages.
Finally, she answered. She wanted to meet for coffee.
Dread walked its cold fingers down my spine as my driver approached the coffee shop on the Wednesday following the gala. Then I walked in, and a temporary burst of hope lifted me up as I saw Alba sitting next to the window, her eyes lifting to watch me walk in.
That hope withered and died when my gaze landed on the seat next to hers, where a garment bag had been draped. Even without the little clear window in the front of the garment bag showing sparkly purple fabric, I already knew what was inside.
Alba was returning the dress.
This wasn’t going to be a reconciliation.
She stood when I reached her table. “I haven’t ordered you anything,” she said by way of greeting.
“That’s fine,” I said, then nodded to the dress. “I’m not taking that back.”
Alba squared her shoulders. “You are.”
“It’s yours.”
“I don’t remember paying for it.”
“It was a gift, Alba.”
“Give it to your daughter when she grows up.”
“No.”
We faced off, a little square table between us, until Alba released a sigh and dropped into her chair.
I sat down more gingerly, as if there was a bomb under the seat of the chair that might blow up if I moved too quickly.
When I was settled, Alba took a deep breath—but I had things to say before I let her break things off between us.
“I’m sorry, Alba.”
Her mouth clamped shut. She swallowed, eyelashes fluttering as she blinked, then dipped her chin. “I appreciate you saying that.”
“I shouldn’t have accused you of going behind my back to meet with your ex. I know I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. You deserve better than that.”
Her eyes were watery, and all I wanted to do was jump over the table to wrap her in my arms. She took a deep breath and whispered, “So why did you?”
I swallowed convulsively, searching my blank mind for the right words.
I didn’t know how to explain my state of mind that night.
The anxiety. The feeling that I wasn’t being true to myself.
The doubt. All the work that had gone into finding an investor, the months of meetings and effort, hinging on that final gala to close the deal with Arlo Noble.
“I was intensely uncomfortable, and you didn’t seem to be,” I finally started, speaking slowly.
With the thumb of my right hand, I dug into the fleshy part of my left hand between my thumb and forefinger.
The slight pain helped me focus, and I continued: “You’d said all those things about your family and peers, how awful they were, and then you seemed to be thriving.
I started thinking—” I pressed my thumb harder when my voice stuttered to a stop.
“I started thinking that maybe I didn’t really know you.
That you weren’t the woman I’d gotten to know, and instead you were one of them. ”
“One of them,” she repeated softly, her eyes glistening with tears.
“Not that they’re all bad,” I rushed to add. “Just—” I stopped, not knowing how to continue. Then I said, “There was a lot riding on that evening, and I guess I cracked under the pressure.”
There was a silence. Alba’s drink steamed between us, but she made no move to drink it. Then she took a deep breath. “When we walked in, I was uncomfortable too. But I told myself that I was there for you.”
“Alba—”
“Let me finish, please.” She paused, then said, “I put on a mask that I used to wear when I had to go to those types of events. When I ran into Cole and his new wife, all the guilt and shame of my actions came rushing back to me.”
“He didn’t seem angry.”
She shook her head. “He wasn’t. But I needed a minute, and that’s when James confronted me.
” She straightened. “For the first time since I met him, I told James to back off. I felt like I was seeing through the charm for the first time, and I stood up for myself. I was so proud, but all that guilt and shame just compounded and weighed even heavier on me. When my parents cornered me, then, it was like this rush of strength went through me. I felt like I was finally free. All I had to do was cross the ballroom and get to you, and I would be okay. The one person who knew the real me. The one person I could rely on.”
Sourness rose up the back of my throat. “And I accused you of—of?—”
“Of trying to cheat on you. The way I did with Cole.”
“Alba, I never thought?—”
“I understand,” she interrupted, smiling sadly. “I probably would’ve thought the same thing in your shoes. But your reaction made me realize that I can’t put myself in a position to be hurt like that again. I was relying on you for safety, for support, for everything. It’s time I rely on myself.”
“You’ve been relying on yourself for over a year. Let me help you.”
She smiled sadly. “No, Vaughn. Thank you, but no. On Saturday, I went to the gala for you. I faced all those people and was determined to stay there and make a good impression—for you. But you weren’t there for me.
You were there for your business. And that’s fine—that’s your right.
You built your empire, and you deserve to see it grow.
But I’ve realized that I’d rather be alone than second on someone’s priority list. It hurts too much when I inevitably become collateral damage. ”
I couldn’t speak, because she was right. I should have seen the toll that event was taking on her. I should have been there beside her every step of the way. Hell, I should have shielded her from James and her parents, instead of letting her face them alone.
Instead, I stood on my own and stewed in my own insecurities, thinking about how her actions would affect my business. I was afraid of looking stupid to a bunch of people I didn’t even know.
Cold spread through my chest, and I saw my chance at making amends slipping away. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
Alba gathered her things and stood.
“Take the dress,” I finally commanded.
She looked at me, then at the garment bag.
“Take it,” I said. “Sell it. Wear it. I don’t care, but I don’t want it.”
A heavy sigh slipped through her lips, and then she reached for the bag and draped it over her arm. She circled the table and ran a finger over my temple. “Goodbye, Vaughn. Thank you for everything. You gave me an opportunity and a way out when I thought I had nothing.”
I could give you more, I wanted to scream. I could take care of you. I’ll never hurt you again.
But her hand dropped to her side, and my tongue stayed still. She walked away from me for the second time, and this time I knew it was for good.
It looked like I also wasn’t going to get the chance to fix the Midtown job.
A week after my meeting with Alba, Arlo Noble sent his regrets.
He was taking his legal team’s advice and declining to invest in my company.
Ever since the news of the legal battle had spread, we hadn’t won a single new project.
The Midtown project was bleeding money and not progressing.
No one wanted to touch us—not an investor, not a new client, not a replacement subcontractor. The company was in free fall.
I almost wanted to laugh.
I’d blamed Alba at the gala, but it was my own fault this was happening.
Then, that afternoon, I got another email—this time from Tiffany’s lawyer. She was petitioning the court for a review of our custody agreement for Charlotte. I stared at the words, not understanding. Then my phone rang.
“Tiffany,” I growled as I picked up. “What’s this about our custody agreement?”
“I’m trying to do right by our daughter, Vaughn. You work long hours, and you’ve asked me to take her on your weeks regularly. I don’t want her being raised by a nanny, no matter how great Billie is. And I’m not going to be asking for more money, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not giving up time with my daughter,” I barked.
“You won’t have to,” Tiffany answered, sounding tired but calm.
“I’ve kept track of all the times you asked me to take her during your custody time, and I’m just asking for our agreement to reflect the current status quo.
I’ve let the nanny thing slide too long as well.
Our current agreement has the right of first refusal.
When you can’t be there to take care of her after school, she should be coming home to me.
That’s what my lawyer said, and that’s what I’ll ask for in court. ”
I stared at my computer screen, not understanding. The lawyer’s letter jumbled before me, and I rubbed my eyes to try to make it make sense.
Tiffany filled the silence, her voice soft but unyielding. “I’m doing what’s best for Charlotte, Vaughn.”
“You’re talking to me like I don’t care about my own daughter.”
“I’m doing what’s best for Charlotte,” she repeated. “If you can’t be there with her, she should be with me. And you’ll be free to work on your businesses as much as you need to.”
There was nothing else to say, so we hung up. Heat burned the back of my throat, and my blood rushed through my veins, making my body tremble and shake.
I was losing everything—I’d already lost everything.
My business. My daughter. Alba.
All the things that mattered to me were slipping through my fingers, and even with a fortune at my fingertips, there was nothing I could do about it.
Tiffany would win in court, no doubt, because she was right about how little time I spent with our daughter.
Alba had walked away from me without looking back.
But my business could be saved—maybe. If I felt like bankrupting myself.
I sat in my corner office as the sun went down, setting the skyscrapers of the city ablaze. I sat until the lights came on, until the hum of the cleaner’s vacuum started up down the hall. The noise made me think of Alba, and I finally pushed myself back from my desk.
I stood, and then froze. Where would I go? Back to my empty house? To the penthouse apartment that had never felt like home? Over to Alba’s, so I could stand outside her window and beg her to take me back?
Every option seemed terrible, so I took none of them. I sat back down, woke my computer up, and worked.
Maybe if I saved my business from ruin, I would feel better. Maybe if I did one thing right, it wouldn’t feel like the entire world was crumbling down around me.