Chapter 9
9
LEO
“ A re you sure that one’s good enough?” I ask, examining the object in front of me as the sales associate turns it, his white gloves holding the handle carefully.
“It’s one of the best we have in the store, sir. There’s only about two in the world.”
I nod, feeling the flowery scent of whatever perfume they pumped into the vents start to tickle my nose, pain starting to form in the center of my forehead.
“I’ll take it,” I tell him with a small smile. I just want to get out of here.
It’s been three days since I was an asshole to Briar, and there hasn’t been a single moment that I haven’t felt guilty about it. She was just trying to help. I should never have snapped at her like I did, and the look on her face after has been burned in my brain ever since.
It’s eaten at me every minute of the day, creeping into my professional life. My training has been shit, my head just not in it.
I want to make it up to her.
The man places the designer purse back in the box, making sure it looks absolutely perfect in whatever little fabric bag he slipped it into—for what reason I have absolutely no idea. Handing it to me, I thank him, hand him my card, and head out the door.
A designer purse has to do the trick, right?
I’ve been waiting for her to reach out to me. To text me something snarky. To even yell at me again. But there’s been nothing. No contact at all.
I heard her downstairs the other night in the kitchen with Elara, but the moment she heard me move around, heading the stairs, she was back in her room, the door closed gently as if trying to avoid my attention in any way.
But I want her attention. And I’m not really sure why.
Briar is an ice queen, and while I hate being told what to do, there’s something about a woman like that caring enough to put you in your place that feels good.
And I was an asshole to her. A complete dick.
The second I get home, I set the box on the counter and start twiddling my thumbs on the couch, counting down the minutes until she’s home. I should be doing something. Going over what my trainer and I have been working on, going through emails, responding to a voicemail my publicist left me. But I can’t think until she gets home.
An hour goes by, and I almost call her. Almost. But the second I pick up my phone, the lock to my door turns, and I hear the faint chatter of Elara.
“Okay Bub, go take a quick shower for me alright? I’m going to pack up some of your things.”
“Okay mom,” Elara responds, her hair bouncing as she runs by me down the hall. “Hi Leo!” she calls as she goes.
Briar freezes, her eyes first landing on me before drifting to the box on the counter.
“Which girlfriend is that for?” she mutters, rolling her eyes as she puts down her keys.
I flinch a little. “Um, actually I got it for you,” I tell her as I stand, making my way around the couch and into the kitchen. “I wanted to apologize for the other day. I was wrong to lash out and I feel terrible.”
Her brown eyes meet mine, and for the first time I wish I could say she looked mad. Or that she looked sad. Anything other than… blank. Passive. Emotionless.
“So you bought me a purse?” she asks, giving it a sidelong glance. She doesn’t move toward it.
“Not just any purse,” I tell her, opening the box. “A designer purse. The sales guy said there’s only two like it.”
Her eyes don’t waver from mine. Her face is red; almost puffy. Her black eyeliner is smudged just a touch.
“You’re joking, right?”
I shake my head. Okay… not quite the response I was hoping for, but maybe this is her excited. Maybe she really loves it and just doesn’t want to show me.
“Leo, do you really think you can just buy your way out of any sticky situation?”
I stop, my lips pursed. I mean, yes?
“I just thought it would be nice to show how sorry I am?—”
Her hand comes up, stopping me. “I don’t want a purse, Leo. An apology would have been fine. Why in the world would you think I want a purse like that?”
“Everyone likes nice things,” I tell her with a shrug. I thought everyone would love them.
Briar just shakes her head, her eyes dark as she massages her temples.
“That’s your issue, Leo. You think you can buy yourself out of everything. Out of any kind of trouble. Out of proper apologies. You can’t do that. It may have worked in the past, but not everything gets taken care of that way, okay?”
I’m not sure how to respond, and my stomach sinks.
But I never considered that.
No matter what I’ve done in the past, money has always been the answer. The only thing I didn’t fix with it is the situation with Owen and Isla, and that was only because at that point, I had done enough, and I was already paying for her apartment.
I made a girl I was seeing angry? Designer purse. Caught passed out on someone’s lawn? Publicist covered it up.
That one was a huge bill.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, my arms dropping to my sides.
“You show you’re sorry to people by listening. By changing your actions. By showing that you actually care about them,” she says, irritation clear in her eyes.
I nod, trying to figure out a proper response. But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.
She lets out a sigh, her eyes squeezing shut. “I was coming here to tell you I don’t think I can do this, Leo. I think I have to find work elsewhere.”
I can feel sweat bead at the back of my neck, my heart rate increasing. “What? Why?”
“It’s just not working out, Leo. I’m sorry.”
She moves to head toward her room, and I start to panic. “I’m sorry, Briar. I’m learning. I want to hear what you have to say. I’ll be better.”
She doesn’t look back.
“Do I not pay you enough?” I ask, getting angry now.
She stops, looking over her shoulder. “Leo, you offered to pay me more in a week than I made in a month. Why in the world would you think you didn’t pay me enough?”
“I just don’t get why you’re walking away from this.”
“That’s the thing, Leo. The thing you’re not getting. You can’t just throw money at things to make them stay.”