Chapter 16
Troy
I heard my father’s booming voice down the hallway and felt a pit of dread at the bottom of my stomach as I slunk deep into my desk chair. Hearing Kathy’s maniacal laughter that was so forced it made my skin crawl didn’t help. They were coming my way. I wondered what he was doing here unannounced.
As I heard their voices and footsteps edging closer to my doorway, I looked up and tried to catch Monica’s gaze that was following the nearby commotion. She had no idea what was coming and I hadn’t the time to warn her.
When my father came to the office, people did anything to get noticed by either laughing at any lousy joke he told, or talking really loudly on the phone to make it seem they were on a very important call. He would feign being impressed, but deep down he was judging every single person. She was most likely his next victim as she sat across from me wearing the brand new sheath dress that I had sent to her apartment. I bought it because I knew the color would complement her dark hair, but also because I imagined taking it off her.
“Ah, you must be my son’s latest victim.” My father cleared his throat before letting out a chuckle. “I mean personal assistant.”
I saw his back turned to me as he towered over Monica’s desk. She stood from her chair and held out her hand, giving him a warm smile that was nothing more than genuine.
“You must be Troy’s father, Mr. Gunner. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Monica.”
My father took her hand and shook it the way he did with any woman, like he would break them.
“That’s quite a grip you have there,” said my father, looking down at their hands.
I bit back a smile, knowing that Monica was not about to act like a weak woman around him. I stepped out of my office, partly to save her, but partly save myself from watching this awkward encounter. It was probably only awkward to me seeing my father meet the woman I was secretly sleeping with.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, placing my hand on his back.
“Troy.” He gave me a single nod. “I was just getting acquainted with your new assistant.”
“Ah yes, I see that. Why don’t you join me in my office and tell me why you’ve graced us with your presence today.”
He tipped an imaginary hat at Monica before following me into my office, where I shut the door behind us.
“She’s a pretty one,” he said, taking a seat.
“Is she?” I asked with a shrug, sitting behind my desk.
“Don’t play coy with me, boy.”
“Dad, she’s my assistant. Nothing else.”
“Good. You know what’s at stake.”
As if he didn’t remind me every time we talked. But could I really be mad? I was doing exactly what he expected of me, sleeping with another personal assistant, but I kept telling myself this time was different. Different how? I didn’t know, but I couldn’t admit this to my father.
“Why are you here, Dad? Is it just to check up on me? Don’t you have Kathy for that?” It took everything not to roll my eyes.
“Your aunt’s birthday is today…”
“Of course,” I said, completely unaware.
“We’re hosting a party upstate tonight…” He looked at me expectantly, like this was something I should know. It wasn’t on my calendar.
“I know. I’ll be there,” I said as I made a mental note to have Monica order a gift.
“Good.” He stood from his seat and made his way to the door, giving a wave without looking back as he slipped through it.
I knew he hadn’t come all this way to invite me to, or remind me of, my aunt’s party. He dropped in to see how things were going, get his usual report from Kathy, and probably judge my every decision. It was a monthly occurrence that I had annoyingly gotten used to. Yet, with Monica here, it felt more irritating than usual. Embarrassing. I was nearly forty and had Daddy checking in on me.
Once I was sure he was gone, I walked up to Monica’s desk and casually drummed my fingers on her desk. She looked up and gave me a small smile as her fingers continued to type on the keyboard.
“Sorry about that,” I whispered.
“About what?” she asked.
“My dad.” I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, he was harmless.”
Little did she know.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” she whispered and a sexy smile crossed over her lips, making me want to take her right then and there.
“Fuck.”
She laughed out loud and stifled it quickly with her hands as she looked around the office. No one had heard.
“What do you need?” she asked seriously.
“I need you to order a gift from Bloomingdales that I can pick up after work.”
“Okay. Anything in particular?”
“Something a seventy-year-old woman would like,” I said with a shrug.
She looked up at me curiously.
“It’s for my aunt. Her birthday party is tonight.”
I had half a mind to invite Monica to join me, but thought better of it. It was a family function, not a work event. She would be out of place and my father would see right through our little facade. Plus, there were no guarantees with a little champagne in me I would be able to keep my eyes or hands off her.
“I’m on it,” she said.
“Thanks.” I knocked on the surface of her desk before heading back to my office.
Later that night, I arrived at my parents’ upstate home, which was more of an estate than a house, holding a gift-wrapped box containing a cashmere sweater. I rang the doorbell and was ushered inside by the waitstaff who took my jacket and my gift. Jazz music wafted toward me from the large living room where my parents hosted most of their parties. I followed the erratic music and found the roomful of family and close friends.
I spotted my mother at the long buffet table inspecting the appetizers to make sure everything was to her liking. My father was in the center of the room telling some sort of animated story in his usual booming voice. I decided to greet my mother first, giving her a hug and two quick kisses on either cheek.
“Troy. Honey. So glad you could make it,” she said with a beaming smile.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Even though I almost had.
I watched my mother’s eyes drift to the bar that was set up in the back of the room by the open French doors. There was a twinkle to them that I wasn’t quite sure how to read.
“Why don’t you go get a drink.” She gestured to the bar with a nod.
I followed her gaze and saw the familiar strawberry-blonde hair and slender body of my ex-wife. She was shamelessly flirting with the bartender who was eating it up, just like everybody else. Who could blame him? She was a Sports Illustrated model.
“What is Veronica doing here?” I asked, shooting my mother a look.
“Oh, honey. She’s like family.”
“No. Not really, Mom.”
“Oh, hush. Just go. You don’t want to be rude.”
I clenched my fingers into fists as I walked over to the bar where Veronica stood sipping champagne in a backless black dress. She looked good. There was no doubt about that. But I felt nothing for her. Not anymore. I wondered if I ever really did.
We were young when we met. I was infatuated with her and she was infatuated with the wealth of my family. We got married after only three months of knowing each other after an impromptu trip to Vegas. One too many bottles of champagne and reckless sex in a private corner of a casino ended in a wedding chapel.
We tried to make it work, but ultimately it didn’t. We were too different. She wanted the spotlight, and I wanted to be taken seriously as a businessman. I had asked for a divorce, which she didn’t want. My family either. They probably didn’t want a divorce tarnishing their outstanding reputations. Despite divorcing years ago, Veronica wouldn’t let it go. She kept trying to claw her way back into my life in whatever way she could.
“Hello, Veronica,” I murmured, barely looking at her as I motioned for the bartender. “I’ll have a whiskey neat.”
“Troy,” she said, her voice sing-song. “I was wondering when you would show up.”
“And here I was, not knowing you were showing up at all.”
I took the whiskey from the bartender and took a long sip.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” she purred, putting her hand on my arm.
“I didn’t realize you and my aunt were so close,” I said sarcastically before finishing my drink and holding my hand up for another.
“You’re such a sourpuss,” she said, crossing her arms and pouting.
“I’m going to go find my aunt.” I took my drink and crossed the room.
I found Aunt Gertrude sitting in an ornate floral armchair and holding a plate of appetizers as she looked around the room with glee. My heart thawed slightly after my encounter with Veronica and I gave her a big hug. She deserved to be happy on her birthday, and whether this party was actually for her or just an excuse for my parents to entertain, she did look happy.
“Did you come alone?” she asked, looking around the room disappointedly.
“Afraid so.” I shrugged.
“Oh, Troy. When are you going to settle down?” she asked, patting my hand as I knelt on the floor beside her.
My thoughts flashed to Monica, but I quickly shooed them away.
“Someday,” I assured her, and stood up to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.
I scanned the room for my sister. She would be the only one who understood my annoyance over my ex-wife being invited, but there was no sign of Erica. I frowned slightly as I carefully made my way through the crowd. Maybe she was up in her old room. I ascended the stairs and walked down the familiar hallway.
I pushed open the door and was disappointed to find the room empty. I turned to leave and came face to face with Veronica, who had a glass of champagne in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.
“I figured you needed a refill,” she said with a coy smile, pushing me further into the room. She closed the door behind her with her foot.
“I’m good, actually,” I said.
She set the drinks down on a nearby dresser and wrapped her arms around my neck. My eyes couldn’t help but wander exactly where she wanted them to, down the deep cut of her dress. My eyes snapped back up to hers and I shook my head.
“We’re not doing this.” I removed her arms from my neck and stepped back.
“I think a part of you wants to,” she whispered as she reached up and untied the thin strap that held her dress in place at the nape of her neck.
Her dress fell to her waist, revealing her creamy, voluminous breasts. I swallowed hard as I tried to keep my head above the whiskey I had drank. I reached for the bed and grabbed a blanket, tossing it at her.
“Cover up and get out,” I said sharply.
She looked at me for a long moment.
“Who is she?” she asked, clutching the blanket against her.
“There’s no one. Is it that hard to believe I would rather be alone than involved with you?”
Her mouth opened slightly as I pushed past her, opening the door and leaving her in my sister’s childhood bedroom. I quickly walked down the stairs to where the rest of the party was, wanting to get the hell out of there. All I wanted to do was call Monica. But I saw my mother bringing out a birthday cake as my sister carefully lit the dozens of candles that adorned it. I couldn’t leave now. I was stuck.