Chapter 39
CHAPTER 39
SIMON
I n a state of blissful semi-consciousness, I rolled over to pull Abi closer only to find cool sheets where her warm body should’ve been. I felt my eyebrows snap together and my eyes blinked open, but that only served to confirm what I already knew.
She wasn’t in bed anymore.
I groaned and stretched my arms over my head, the view outside letting me know that I hadn’t overslept. The light over the ocean was still soft and weak, a few wispy clouds streaking through the gray-blue sky.
I yawned, grabbing my phone from my nightstand to see if she’d sent a message letting me know where she’d gone. There was nothing from her, but I did have an email from my father calling a meeting this afternoon to review the Fit Gal account.
My eyes rolled. It’s way too early for this shit. What happened to staying out of it?
Obviously, he wanted to make sure his hands were all over this project, and despite his promise just a few days ago, he sure seemed to be done with letting me handle it. I groaned and stroked my palms over my face, wondering what the hell it was going to take to get him to back off.
As that familiar frustration threatened to take hold, I shook it off and decided to focus on where I was. Right now, there was another spectacular sunrise going on and I was sure Abi would be back soon. Abi, who had spent the night in my arms and our last couple of waking hours writhing underneath me again and again.
I grinned and rolled out of bed, naked as the day I’d been born. Padding over to the bathroom, I did what had to be done, washed my hands, and went to make some coffee. Before I could even press the button though, the door between our rooms opened and Abi walked in.
Wearing fitted capri running pants, sneakers, and an oversized T-shirt, her cheeks were flushed and her forehead was dotted with sweat, but her blue eyes were as bright as could be. Her long, delicate fingers were wrapped around takeout mugs and a gorgeous smile graced her lips.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said cheerfully, practically bouncing into the room and coming over to give me a coffee—and to plant a chaste, quick kiss on my lips. She giggled when my brow furrowed. “Don’t look so surprised. I had a great time with you last night. I like where we’re at right now.”
“Enough not to kick my ass next week?”
Her eyes sparkled with barely restrained laughter as she shook her head back and forth. “Nope. Sorry.”
I pretended to pout, but when her gaze dropped to my bare junk, I smirked and took the coffee she had started handing over before she’d gotten distracted. “I would offer to let you take a picture, but that just doesn’t seem like a smart idea given that we’ll be competitors again soon. Who knows what you might threaten to do with said photo?”
She pumped her eyebrows at me before batting her lashes. “Me? I would never stoop so low as to threaten you. I’d just tell you what I was planning and then do it. It’s called a heads-up. You’re welcome.”
I chuckled. “Fair enough. Do you run every morning, or is it only when you’re considering whether to try and avoid the awkward morning-after?”
“This hasn’t been very awkward for me so far.” She went over to the nearest couch and sat down, kicking off her sneakers before curling her legs underneath her, eyes never leaving mine. “Running is a big part of my routine. I love it and I always feel a little lost when I have to start the day without it, so it wasn’t an avoidance tactic.”
“Good to know,” I said, and I meant it. I would never admit it, but for a few seconds there after I’d woken up, I’d wondered if she’d ditched me. It had even occurred to me that she might’ve taken off back to New York already.
The Walkers had a private jet I was sure was at her beck and call. Ours was at mine, but I rarely used it. Either way, it would’ve been easy enough for her to have left me here and I was embarrassingly relieved that she hadn’t.
Abigail sipped her coffee and watched me stride over to my suitcase to pull out a pair of boxer-briefs. I put them on and went to join her in the small sitting area, swiping the room service menu from the counter on my way there.
“What would you like for breakfast? We’ve got some time to kill before our flight, so we might as well eat here.”
“I want pancakes,” she said without hesitation. “Pancakes, syrup, and bacon. All the bacon.”
“A grease fix, huh? You nursing a hangover I don’t know anything about?”
She pursed her lips at me, very obviously trying to fight a smile. “Does that mean you didn’t work up an appetite last night?”
“All the bacon,” I agreed immediately. “Coming right up. Fruit salad? I remember you used to love that after a run.”
“I did and I still do. Thank you. Mind if I go grab a shower while we wait?”
I motioned toward my bathroom. “Go for it, but don’t be surprised if I join you.”
Chuckling as she rose from the couch, she set down her coffee and headed to the door between our rooms. “Just so you know, I’ll be locking it behind me.”
“Wow.” I blew out a breath and gave my head a disapproving shake. “You really are a kill joy.”
She laughed. “Loud and proud, buddy. I’ll see you soon.”
Disappearing into her room, she shut the door behind her but I didn’t hear the lock snick into place. Even so, she hadn’t invited me and I wasn’t about to push my luck, so I placed our order and went to grab a quick shower of my own.
Once I was dressed, I was busy packing the few things I’d unpacked when there was a knock at my door. I let in the room service guy and passed a generous tip his way, then called Abi’s name to let her know the food was here.
We ate breakfast together and made our way to the airport a short while later, both of us getting some work done on our laptops on our way home. When we landed, I glanced at her, one hand on the strap of my backpack and the other wrapped around the handle of my suitcase.
“Can I give you a ride home? I’m going straight to the office, but I don’t mind making a detour to your place.”
“No, that’s okay. I gave Liv our flight details and she booked her ticket to arrive as soon as possible after us. She should be getting in within the next hour to spend a few days with the family. Dad is picking us up once she gets here. Thanks, though.”
“Liv’s coming?” I asked, surprised but genuinely happy for the Walkers. “Enjoy that. Tell her I say hi, okay?”
“She’ll appreciate that.” Abi gave me a strange look as her gaze swept over my face. “Are you okay? You don’t look particularly happy and it was getting worse the closer we got to here.”
“I’m fine. I just have an afternoon meeting I need to get to, but I’ll see you soon.” I almost leaned in to kiss her, but then I remembered that she and I weren’t really like that anymore. “Bye, Abigail.”
“See you soon.” She waggled her fingers at me in a wave, smiled, and wheeled her suitcase to a coffee shop nearby.
I watched her find a table with a view of the arrivals hall and slide her laptop out of its bag. She opened it and immediately got back to work and I sighed, but I knew I had to do the same. Despite driving directly to our building, I only arrived just in time for the meeting to begin and I wasn’t surprised to find my father already there, hovering like a black rain cloud. Florida felt very far away.
He was seated at the head of the table in our executive conference room, clearly intending on trying to take the lead even though he wasn’t actively involved with the client. As if he was the one who’d been putting in the work, he called the meeting to order as I walked in and started laying out where we were at before I’d even had time to sit down.
On the outside, I made sure my expression was stoic and straight, but on the inside, I was fuming. Dad always took credit for other people’s work, most especially mine, and it was only getting worse as time went on.
While he was always quick to remind me that I wasn’t my brother and that I would never be as good as Brooks would’ve been, he never seemed to think I’d done a bad job when he was boasting about the work I’d put in. I dropped into a seat and tried not to glare at him, having had just about enough of his shit.
“What are the client’s plans for the future? What kind of company culture do they have and what are they looking for in a firm to represent them?” I asked pointedly, knowing that he wouldn’t have the answer because I hadn’t given it to him yet. “Do they have any ideas about folding Fit Guy into the current Fit Gal brand later on? What about the next challenge we’ll be facing over at their HQ? Any details on what that might be?”
Dad shut his mouth and glowered at me until the tension in the conference room was palpable. His eyes narrowed and his muscles practically vibrated as he gripped the mahogany tabletop. Refusing to be intimidated, I nodded slowly and got up. “Yeah, I thought so. I’ll be in my office if anybody needs me, working on Fit Gal and getting caught up on everything else.”
For the first time in my life, I walked out of one of my father’s meetings and it felt fucking amazing. Deciding that I should’ve done that a long time ago, I resolved to do it more often from now on if he started taking credit for my projects and acting like he was still in charge.
About twenty minutes later, Dad stormed into my office. Lightning flashed in his stormy eyes, the anger there so real it was like I could see the thundercloud above his head.
“What the fuck was that all about?” he demanded after shutting the door firmly behind him. “You do not question me in front of our people, Simon. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I’m so unbelievably tired of your micromanagement and of all the deals you make under the table without even considering how it might reflect on the rest of us. On the company. Not only have you been a completely absent father, but you take credit where no credit is due and when you don’t even know what’s going on.”
Dad’s graying eyebrows shot up, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening into valleys, but even as he opened his mouth, I shook my head. I wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say for himself. I wasn’t even interested in an apology—which I also knew I wouldn’t be getting.
All of these were things I’d been holding in for much too long, and I’d really just had enough. I couldn’t take it anymore, and after my talk with Abigail, I’d realized that maybe I didn’t have to. Dad might try to blackball me in the industry if I left Astor and Co, and I didn’t particularly want to leave our family’s legacy to crumble to dust when my brother would’ve turned it into an empire to be truly proud of, but Brooks wasn’t here and Dad was destroying his legacy all by his lonesome.
“I haven’t seen you here in weeks, Dad. You hide out in your study at home and fool yourself into thinking you’re still ruling over us with an iron fist when instead, all you’re really doing is hiring twenty-year-old interns to do your dirty work for you.”
Dad rocked back on his heels. Then his expression smoothed over and an icy smile lifted the corners of his lips. His forehead didn’t move and the entire upper half of his face stayed completely the same.
It was chilling—and a very good example of what it looked like when someone’s smile didn’t reach their eyes and wasn’t sincere at all. “I know what all of this is really about. It’s Abigail Walker, isn’t it? That girl has gotten under your skin again.”
My stomach bottomed out, my blood freezing in my veins. “Excuse me?”
How the heck did he know that we’re in contact at all?
As if to answer my unspoken questions, he slid his phone gracefully out of the inside pocket of his jacket and unlocked the screen. He glanced at it, then found whatever he’d been looking for before he turned it to me.
What I found myself looking at was Fit Gal’s Instagram page—and an image that had been uploaded as she and I laughed together at the expo. Immediately, my first instinct of denying that I’d even seen her again died a loud and tortured death, but I refused to let him know that he was onto something.
“She has nothing to do with this,” I responded calmly, going with his strategy of always remaining cool, calm, and collected. “I left her once and I’ll never go back. I don’t do that. It’s all one and done with me, remember?”
Desperately trying to steer him away from her, I didn’t care how sick it made me to say those words. Dad had given me that instruction before I’d left for Harvard, telling me to keep things easy by never climbing the same tree twice. He told me it’d help so I didn’t fall into another trap like I had with Abigail.
“Get this client, Simon,” he said quietly, a dangerous edge to his voice that I knew meant he wouldn’t give up on this. “If you don’t, it will be clear as day where your loyalties lie. I’m going to need to see some serious movement with this account soon, or I’ll go after the competition myself and it won’t be pretty.”
Dad spun on his heels and shut the door behind him, leaving me reeling and terrified in his wake. I knew exactly what he meant when he said he would go after them—and saying that it wouldn’t be pretty was seriously underselling the consequences.