37. Poppy
37
Poppy
T he plan worked.
Violet and I went to Daisy’s house a few days ago to figure out the details, and after much deliberation, we decided that simply enticing Kurt to hit on Violet wasn’t enough. We needed something that would really harm his career and destroy any future chances of him getting another job in the industry.
Wes was in the kitchen, cooking dinner while we brainstormed ideas, and we were surprised to hear him offer to help.
“Why would you do that?” I asked as he entered the living room, wiping his hands on a dishtowel.
His brows sunk into a deep frown. “What he’s done to you is truly awful. All I can think is that if it was Daisy, I’d want to murder the guy. So, yeah. I’ll help however I can.”
I launched to my feet to hug him, the girls laughing behind me. “Thank you, Wes.”
“This is better anyway,” Violet said, tapping her chin in thought. “If he’s the kind of guy I think he is, he’s much more likely to trust a man. He probably thinks women know nothing about business.”
I cringed. She had that right. Except it wasn’t limited to business.
Wes looked disgusted. “Well, let’s use that to our advantage, shall we?”
It was his idea to get Kurt to meet at the ad agency he owns, under the guise of headhunting him for a new position. Wes called to set up a meeting at his offices in Midtown, waxing on and on about how the company had watched Kurt’s career trajectory and wanted to discuss the possibility of him moving into a more senior position at their company. Kurt ate it up.
That was last night, and now, the three of us crowd around Daisy’s kitchen island, drinking our coffee in the bright light of morning, eager to see the results.
“I’ve got the footage,” Daisy says, holding up her phone as she slides onto a stool at her kitchen counter. “Want to see?”
I hesitate. Actually, do I want to see? The idea of watching Kurt behave like his usual slimy self in front of Daisy’s husband makes me feel physically sick. Wes is such a lovely man, and I hate the thought of him witnessing the behavior I put up with for all those years.
For the hundredth time, I wish Wyatt was back from San Francisco, so he could hold my hand as we watch. He’s been gone all week, and it’s been hard. I called him late Monday night after getting a new phone and number—one Kurt doesn’t have access to—and it was a relief to hear he’d smoothed things over with Bailey. She hasn’t reached out to me yet, and I don’t know what to make of that, but I’m telling myself she’s busy with her dad. Wyatt stayed on for a few days to spend time with her, and that’s great, but…
Ugh, I know it’s silly. After everything we’ve been through to get to this point, the conversations we’ve had about our future, I should be secure in our relationship. Yet, there’s this tiny voice in my head, questioning us. Questioning how solid we are, whether he still wants everything after what happened with Bailey. Whether he thinks it’s worth the trouble. If I’m worth the trouble.
I push the thought away, annoyed at myself, because another part of me knows I don’t have to worry. That I can absolutely trust Wyatt, that he’d never hurt me. That the only reason these doubts nip at me is because of Kurt’s behavior. I’m not used to being loved by such a good man.
I focus on Violet, determined to see this plan through. Getting Kurt on video behaving poorly is only the first part; I still need to approach his boss. My stomach clenches with nerves, but that won’t stop me.
Once and for all, I’m taking back my power.
“I want to see,” Violet says gleefully, clutching her Joe’s to-go coffee cup as she leans over Daisy’s phone. With a sigh, I settle in, too.
Daisy presses play, and the three of us watch as Kurt struts confidently into Wes’s office. The footage is super clear. Wes must have set up a camera somewhere on a sideboard under a plant, or something.
The first few minutes are a little boring, mostly Kurt bleating on about how great he is, which Weston endures with great patience. If it were me, I’d reach across the desk and slap Kurt. But whatever.
Things really heat up when Wes pulls a bottle of whiskey from his desk and pours them each a glass, as if to signal how relaxed and casual the chat is. It helps that he scheduled it for after office hours.
When Wes leans back in his chair and starts listing off Kurt’s achievements—which we found on LinkedIn—Kurt’s mouth curves into the most pompous, self-important smile I’ve ever seen. Honestly, for such a smart guy, Kurt can sure be an idiot sometimes, but if he’s getting his ego stroked, that’s all that matters.
“So what’s it like at Baxter, Elmore, it’s bright red and orange poppies, wreathed around his entire calf and shin.
“Wyatt,” I breathe, tears springing to my eyes. He’s got both his mom and his daughter engraved on his skin, but I never dreamed I’d be there too. “It’s beautiful.”
“Poppies, for Poppy.” He strokes a hand gently over my hair as he speaks. “The colors remind me of you. Your lips and your hair, your bright, passionate nature. I would have gotten you right here”—he motions to his heart—“but it never occurred to me to keep that spot free.” His voice softens. “I never imagined I’d feel this way about a woman and want her there permanently. Never imagined you.”
Tears spill from my eyes as he lowers himself back onto the sofa, pulling me onto him again. His thumbs wipe my tears away, and our lips meet, hungry from days apart. We make quick work of our clothes before I sink onto his length, sighing at the satisfaction of him filling me again. It only takes a few moments before we surrender to our release.
Then we snuggle on the sofa enjoying the closeness of each other, Wyatt stroking my shoulder, Sugar curled at our feet.
“Was it good to see Bailey?” I ask at last. I want to know what they talked about, how their time was together, but I’m still nervous that maybe she hasn’t forgiven me.
“It was.” Wyatt kisses my temple. “We had a really long talk. And”—he chuffs a small laugh—“she already knew the truth about her childhood.”
I sit back enough to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“Her mom let it slip a few years ago that it wasn’t my choice not to be involved. That it was because she hadn’t told me.”
I blink, absorbing this, and it makes me see everything Bailey’s ever said about her father in a new light. What a great dad he is, how much she loves him. She knew he was honorable all along, that he would have done the right thing, given the chance.
Brushing Wyatt’s hair from his forehead, I drop a kiss there. “How do you feel about that?”
“Relieved. Like a huge weight has been lifted from me.”
I study him, the warmth in his amber eyes, the gray threaded through his beard, the tiredness in his smile. My heart softens, knowing that he and Bailey discussed the truth of her childhood. He needed that. I know he did.
“And Bailey…” I begin, then hesitate.
“She’s good. She’s working far too much, but she’s good.” He cups my cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. “She said that if we make each other happy, then that makes her happy.”
I smile, closing my eyes and leaning into his palm. I want to believe him, but if that’s true, why hasn’t she reached out to me?
“Have you thought any more about the Kurt plan?” Wyatt asks.
A grin tugs at my lips. He’s going to love this.
Pushing to my feet, I retrieve my phone from the counter and hand it to him, showing him the footage. His jaw unhinges as he watches, shaking his head.
“Jesus,” he keeps muttering, each time it seems as though Kurt couldn’t possibly say anything worse. The video ends, and he glances up at me. “What did his boss say?”
I cringe. “I haven’t shown him yet. And I’m wondering…” I trail off, trying to put my thoughts into words.
The truth is, I don’t want to tear Kurt down. Not because I care about him (I don’t), or because he doesn’t deserve it (he does), but because that’s not who I am. I’m not the same as him.
“Poppy…” Wyatt begins, as if disappointed to see me backing down.
“I’m not like him,” I say. “I don’t want to hurt him like he wants to hurt me.”
Wyatt softens. “I know, baby.”
“Even though he deserves it… I wouldn’t feel good about tearing him down.”
A weary exhale gusts from Wyatt. “You’re a better person than me,” he mutters.
I huff a laugh, knowing that’s not true at all.
But there’s something else there, I realize. Fear. Of what he might do if I ruin his career. I hate that he still has that hold over me.
Unless…
“If I go in there and get him fired, he has nothing to lose,” I say, thinking aloud. “He’d have no reason not to destroy me.”
Wyatt scrubs a hand over his beard in thought. “I guess that’s true.”
“But…” I spring to my feet and begin pacing as I think. “If I show him the footage and tell him I could send it to his boss, then I could use that as leverage.”
Wyatt’s brows rise. “Interesting. How?”
“Well, I could basically say, stop fucking with me, or I’ll destroy your career.” Yes, this is the right way to do this. “It would give me the power, and I could hold on to it.”
Wyatt nods, standing too. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I think you’re right. We won’t rip him to shreds, we’ll put the fear of God into him.” His expression makes me laugh. “So, when are we doing this?”
“I should do it soon,” I say, “before I can talk myself out of it.” Nerves ripple through me as I add, “Like… now.”
Wyatt senses my apprehension, taking my hand. “I could do it for you, if you like?”
I shake my head. “Thanks, but I need to do this myself.” I think of Kurt trying to intimidate me, and shiver. It certainly wouldn’t hurt having a great big muscly man there. “But can you come as moral support?”
Wyatt’s arms encircle my waist, drawing me close. “You can count on me, baby. Let’s make that prick pay.”