Chapter 26
Chandler
“It’s been a record-breaking month,” said the board of directors as he laid a firm hand on my shoulder. “Thanks to you, our shares are up, and you’ve made for one very happy board of investors.”
“What can I say?” I shrugged confidently. “There was a reason I was selected for the job. I get shit done.”
“That you do.” He chuckled, before adding, “Penn Harold is irreplaceable, of course. Untouchable really, but you are filling in his shoes well.”
Normally, I would bristle at the comparison of never being able to live up to another, but I knew Penn’s legacy was a big one.
He had built it up for years with his smart choices and business relations nationally and internationally.
I had followed his journey since I was in college.
I could only hope I could reach a molehill of what he had accomplished in his tenure.
“Of course.” I nodded, taking a sip of my second glass of whiskey. I was grateful I wasn’t under the worrisome eye of my mother. I glanced around, wondering where she was now. She and Greg were probably still schmoozing about with Gabriella.
“How has it been working with Gabriella?” the director asked, raising a brow.
“Fine, fine,” I said nonchalantly.
“You know, we were all convinced she would take over for her old man. It had been quite the surprise in the boardroom that morning Penn retired, leaving you in charge.”
Great, so not only did Gabriella expect to be her father’s successor, but the rest of the world expected it too. I was only glad I had not disappointed them thus far.
“She’d be an excellent candidate, I’m sure…” I started.
“Yes, but she’s a woman,” he said, lowering his voice as if he had said something profane.
I was taken aback by his sexist comment, but it wasn’t surprising.
The board was entirely made up of men. Gabriella stuck out like a tadpole in a tank of sharks.
It was a wonder she had held her own this long, not that she wasn’t capable, but because she was so strong-headed that I was surprised she hadn’t quit for the lack of equality.
“I have to tell you, the board members and I were somewhat relieved when you were announced. Our investments are important to us, you know.”
“She’s been a real asset to me,” I said with a firm nod, letting him know I didn’t agree with his viewpoint on women.
Sure, they were mostly playthings to me in the bedroom, but I also knew how strong they could be because of my mother.
I often saw her spirit in Gabriella, though Gabriella had much more of a bite to her.
“Speaking of…” he whispered, his eyes looking behind me. He gave me a pat on the back before he turned and joined a few of the other board members who were gathered on the grass.
I turned to see Gabriella approaching, walking quickly and carefully among the cobblestone pathway to ensure her strappy heels didn’t get stuck in the stone crevices.
I noticed my mother and Greg were not with her.
I knew I should have been entertaining them and showing them around, it was just that Greg got so far under my skin that I couldn’t stomach it.
He would just look at everything with a smug distaste, thinking it was all so hoity toity.
I really shouldn’t have invited them, even though my mother tried to make up for it with her excitement.
“Where are your two new best friends?” I asked sarcastically, looking around.
“I-I don’t know. They were eating brunch…” she said, her voice shaky. I could immediately see that something was wrong.
“Hey,” I said, my voice softening as I reached for her arm to steady her. “Are you okay?”
She seemed a little off balance as she looked up at me, her face drained of color. I wasn’t sure if she was going to cry or be sick. I had never seen her like this, and a protective reflex took over me as I looked around for what or who would have made her like this.
“What happened? Did someone do something?” I asked firmly, my hand still around her elbow.
She just shook her head and looked down at the ground.
“Come with me,” I said, leading her gently back the pathway she had come and up the stairs to the far side of the terrace, the sound of swinging golf clubs and clipped balls drowning out behind us.
I almost scooped her up to carry her based on how much she leaned on me for support, but I knew it would raise a lot of brows.
I didn’t want to make a scene, and I knew she would never want to look weak in front of all these people, especially that misogynistic director of the board.
Hell, I didn’t want him to see her like this.
As we made it up to the terrace, I quickly grabbed a water bottle from a nearby drink table and led Gabriella inside the cool air of the country club.
Maybe she was dehydrated. It was a hot day.
New York was having a heat wave. I led her down an empty hallway, our shoes echoing against the marble floors up to the tall wooden beams of the ceiling.
I searched for a room where she could possibly rest and rehydrate.
I opened a few doors, but came up empty with coat closets and powder rooms and a staff breakroom.
We kept walking, Gabriella still quiet beside me.
Finally, I opened a door near the end of the hall and found a small, empty room with a seating area and tiny table.
It looked like some sort of old-fashioned parlor we probably weren’t supposed to be in, but I ushered her inside anyway and closed the door behind me.
Gently leading her to the floral fabric couch pushed up against the pinstripe-papered wall, I helped lower her into the plush cushions.
“Here,” I said, handing her the cool water bottle.
She twisted open the top and drank the entire thing.
“Thanks,” she said softly, wiping water away from her mouth.
“Are you okay?” I asked, hoping I could finally get an answer from her as to why she looked as though she might pass out.
She shook her head and looked down at her fingers that were tangled together nervously. Her silence was unsettling. She had been giving me mostly the silent treatment for the past few days, and I was starting to get impatient. My nurturing only went so far, if you could even call it nurturing.
“Is your father okay?” I asked, crossing my arms and looking down at her.
She looked up at me, a sharpness cutting through her weakness. “Of course.”
I shrugged innocently. How was I supposed to know? The man was getting up there in age. It wouldn’t be surprising if his health had taken a turn. I couldn’t think of anything else that would have her acting like this.
She sighed and finally looked up at me, her hazel eyes filled with fear. My stomach sank to the floor with just that look, wondering how bad it could be. And then she spoke, delivering two words that crashed into me, even though they fell from her lips in slow motion.
“I’m pregnant.”
It felt as though my legs were giving out on me as my knees buckled, bringing me to sit on the couch beside her. I gripped the cushions under my legs tightly, my knuckles turning white. I shook my head as if I hadn’t heard her correctly. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
I figured if she was telling me, then that could only mean one thing.
That I was the father. I had assumed we had been exclusive with our sex lives.
I certainly had been. We always had our hands on each other, I barely had the energy to entertain the idea of sleeping with anyone else.
Though we never talked about it, I assumed the same of her, but now I was hoping it would be someone else. Anyone else.
I couldn’t be a father. I couldn’t be a dad. I couldn’t be a parent.
However way I said it, I couldn’t be it.
The already small room seemed to warp, the walls closing in.
Everything fell into this pressurized silence, like I was underwater.
It certainly seemed like I was drowning in that moment.
I could see Gabriella’s mouth still moving, but her words were muffled and didn’t make any sense.
I struggled to understand what she was talking about, but even focusing on her face was difficult.
Now, I understood why she looked like might pass out just moments ago. I feared I now might.
“Your mother…”
“Greg…”
Her words pulsed in and out of my head, but it was like she was speaking a different language.
I wondered what my mother or Greg had to do with any of this.
She put her hand on my arm and gave it a squeeze, but I could hardly feel it.
I wasn’t even sure if I was in my own body in that moment.
It almost felt like I was watching from a distance.
Watching as my life changed with just those two little words.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the image of the walls crumbling down around me.
I was met with an early memory of my father.
His face was so vivid in my mind with a sly smile that never seemed to reach his eyes, like he was up to no good.
I never saw through it when I was little, but the older I got the less trusting I was about the way his eyes didn’t light up.
Not when my mother would come down the stairs for date night after having spent over an hour on her hair.
Not when I threw my first pitch at my baseball game.
Not when he attempted to teach me to drive in the cul-de-sac, despite my mother’s protests that I was too young.
It was probably because his mind was elsewhere. Probably in Poughkeepsie with his girlfriend and two other kids. He only had so much room in his heart, and my mother and I just didn’t make the cut anymore. We were disposable. We were nothing.
I’d spent too much time trying to run from my past, not spending any time trying to see how it had shaped me.
Too proud to believe that anything was wrong with the way I kept most people at an arm's length, pushing women away before they even had a chance of trying to get close.
Too proud to believe that my cold, ruthless demeanor could be anything other than what made up a strong businessman, though others would call it something else.
But now, it was like my past and every part of me it had shaped were screaming at me and forcing me to look.
I wasn’t supposed to be a father. I was too fucked up.
Too selfish. Too focused on success. Or maybe I was scared.
Scared that I would turn out to be like my own father, and screw everything up.
What were the chances I would be any different from him?
Slim. Very slim. If Gabriella knew what was good for the baby, she would either get rid of it or keep it the hell away from me.
I had to get out of here. I had to process all of this.
I shook my head, bringing her string of senseless words to a halt as she watched me abruptly stand from the couch.
I couldn’t even look at her, let alone form a word to respond to the bomb she just dropped on me.
Instead, I walked toward the door and slipped through it before slamming it behind me.