Chapter Twenty-Three
Max
Once Auric and Elita are gone, the rest of the day is spent in a whirlwind of meetings.
Typical after Rhys has been out of the office for so long.
Although a lot can be done online, some things require face-to-face interaction.
And some people just want to come by for reasons—not all of them legit—hoping to be noticed.
I sort all the notes from the Beissen Group meetings that I missed. Rhys hates taking minutes or only relying on the other party’s.
–Unknown: Hi, this is Don Wellington. The shock of hearing that you’re an heiress to a two-billion-dollar fortune must’ve been too much to digest this morning. I understand. But you should give it some serious thought. Your father would like to do the right thing and meet you in person.
I narrow my eyes. Don sounds sincere, but then, he’s a lawyer willing to do anything for his client.
But the more I think about it, the more this feels like some kind of prank.
Trevor acted so high and mighty. Even mocked me for having a job because I should’ve just accepted his money and lived happily ever after.
Made that jab about my being a girl, and therefore unworthy of his legacy.
Although Don basically said that the son Trevor had with Lily isn’t his, is that reason enough for me to let that smarmy sperm donor crawl back into my life?
It isn’t my problem that the only child Trevor managed to father was me, or that he wants me back—probably begrudgingly.
Oh well. He’ll just have to die without an heir, penis-swinging or not. I block the number, not interested in engaging with anyone doing Trevor’s work.
“Hey, is Rhys free for the next five minutes?”
I lift my head, look into a pair of soft, hopeful brown eyes.
“Can you finish in five?” I ask Bob Sacker, glancing at the clock on my laptop—5:56 p.m. Although Rhys rarely leaves by six, I don’t want to give Sacker more time than necessary.
He’s excellent at his job, but he doesn’t know how to keep things concise, going on and on about every little thing he’s learned over the course of completing each assignment.
“Of course.” He grins confidently.
“Let me check,” I say, scrolling slowly through Rhys’s calendar.
Must be great to be so delusional. Everyone knows Sacker can’t finish any conversation in less than five minutes.
Definitely need to buy that uncomfortable, fancy Japanese-style chair for Rhys’s office.
That should redeem me in the bossman’s eyes.
Although Rhys had to jump into meetings right after his parents left, I’m painfully aware that we haven’t finished our discussion.
The yellow sticky note with its bright red YOU ARE WELCOME still glares at me.
After the fiasco with Auric and Elita, I realize I acted immaturely in Tokyo…
sort of like his parents. I don’t really regret the sex—it was amazing.
But running was a coward’s way out. I should just tell Rhys I’m sorry and accept the consequences for ditching him.
I look up at Sacker. “Yeah, I think it’s okay if you can really finish in five. Rhys has a Zoom at six, but he can probably be a little late.”
Sacker makes an O with his thumb and forefinger and enters the office.
I study Rhys’s meetings for the week. He has at least two a day.
Need to see if there’s a way to cut at least a couple out.
After working with him for three years, I’ve learned he hates meetings, since most of them aren’t as productive as their agendas make them sound.
My phone pings with another text. Maybe an SOS from Rhys to get Sacker to leave?
I glance at the screen, and my mood turns as sour as expired milk.
–Jeffrey: Hey, babe, are you still upset?
Look, let’s just let it go, okay? You got to insult me, and your boss got to be rude and verbally abusive—uncalled for, but I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.
No reason to ruin a long-term relationship over something so trivial.
Besides, Samantha and I just kissed. We didn’t really do anything.
Is he serious? Shoving his tongue down her throat isn’t a reason to “ruin” our relationship? Did he think about our relationship before flying to Tokyo with her? Or kissing her in public?
Besides, have I given him the impression I’m stupid? He and Samantha just “kissed”? In what sense—like kissing-cousins kind of way?
I start typing a cutting response, but another text hits my phone.
–Jeffrey: By the way, your father and I kind of bonded. I understand the pain from your childhood, but that’s just more reason to keep what we have. Two years, babe! It’s a record for me.
He must’ve fucked his way to his diploma. No one can be this much of an idiot.
–Me: Yes, I’m sure you have a lot in common. I’m just waiting for the day both your dicks shrivel with chlamydia.
–Jeffrey: Don’t be mean, babe. I’m trying to be understanding.
–Me: Hold your breath. My understanding broke the second I saw you with her.
–Jeffrey: You’re going to regret this. Most men aren’t like me. And btw I know you’re sleeping with your boss.
My jaw slackens. How did he find out I slept with Rhys in Tokyo?
–Jeffrey: But do I complain? Of course not. I look the other way because being with you matters more.
Oh jeez. I read the text twice, just to be sure. Jeffrey assumes I was sleeping with Rhys all this time…? Or maybe he’s making wild accusations to put me on the defensive, hoping something sticks.
–Jeffrey: People like Rhys Kingswood don’t marry and build a life with girls like you.
They want women with ambition and qualifications.
You’re great, don’t get me wrong, but don’t let yourself be a secret shame he bangs behind closed doors.
You’re just a convenience for him when he’s too busy to look for someone more on his level.
I glare at the obnoxious words, designed to chip away at my self-esteem.
But the bastard inadvertently managed to hit a sensitive spot.
Didn’t I regard Rhys as a man you bang once, as long as you’re certain never to cross paths with him again because he isn’t the kind of man who can actually do a meaningful relationship?
Everything in his life has been short and casual—at least, that’s his public persona.
The reality is probably much worse, based on how worried Sorcha seemed.
I don’t think I’m particularly lacking, but at the same time, Rhys has never been seen with a non-celeb on his arm. If he’s dating someone ordinary, he must be doing it more covertly than a CIA agent operating in Russia.
Gritting my teeth, I shake off the anxiety. I am not going to let Jeffrey affect me.
–Me: Banging in public is frowned upon. But then, maybe you didn’t know that, since you think kissing women other than your girlfriend in public is totally normal.
Don’t call me babe, and don’t ever contact me again.
Your very existence grosses me out, like a week-old sewer rat carcass infested with cockroaches.
That done, I get up to rescue Rhys. It’s been seven minutes since Sacker entered the office. If I don’t intervene, he’ll stay for seven hours.
I knock, then stick my head in. “Rhys, your Zoom call?”
“Right.” My boss turns to Sacker. “Gotta get on that now. Thanks for stopping by, though. Fascinating stuff.”
“Thanks.” Sacker flushes. Although Rhys is the one wearing glasses, Sacker looks more geeky and awkward.
As he walks past me, I start to return to my desk.
“Max?” Rhys says, “Come in for a sec.”
My shoulders tense. This is it.
I walk inside and take the seat Sorcha occupied in the morning, my hands folded in my lap. There’s an urge to tap my foot, but I resist, keeping my knees together. Rhys adjusts his glasses, then tugs at his tie—a sign he’s about to embark on a difficult conversation.
Anxiety creeps in. Just how much trouble am I in? Time to put out feelers with a couple of headhunters—
He starts to get up. I remember how he caged me in the morning—and how hard it was for me to think straight over the pounding of my heart. Instinct says I need to be at a hundred and ten percent right now. “Stay there.”
He pauses. “I was going to get you some water.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
He gives me an odd look, then leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled. “Remember what I said in Tokyo?”
I blink at him, feeling like a kid taking a pop quiz she isn’t ready for. “You said a lot of things in Tokyo.”
“Right. I mean about being a fake girlfriend.”
“If you’re wondering about Gabriella, she wants to make sure she’s the one dumping you, not the other way around. She said nobody gets to dump her.”
He looks at me like I’m spouting nonsense. “Gabriella? I was thinking about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Remember? I asked, and you said no because you had a boyfriend.”
“Oh. Right.” My face scrunches. Fucking Jeffrey. I defended him to Rhys, only to be proven wrong. Although Rhys didn’t say, “I told you so,” he might as well have. The universe certainly said it for him.
“I’m asking again.”