Chapter 18 #3
Regina stands, and when she starts talking about the bottom line for our companies merging, I finally understand why she was hired. I start to zone out as she drones on, using words like dividends and synergy to impress the Pines—as if they weren’t aware of all this as our biggest competitors.
Why do I even have to be here for this?
After about twenty minutes, I glance up to find Sabrina watching me. Her eyes are curious and a little skeptical, and I shift in my seat, wondering if I look like a teenager trying to get through math class without falling asleep.
A strange feeling blooms in my gut. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it?
To just be with this woman. She’s certainly pretty, and I could just coast through the rest of my quote-unquote normal life like a good little straight boy.
Maybe I should just say fuck it and join the dark side—marry Sabrina and pop out a few kids. Jeremy will probably be better off.
I give my head a slight shake. The thought makes me sick, and shame worms its way into my chest.
That’s not what I want anymore.
Sabrina’s attention is back on Regina, and a hint of guilt joins the burning nausea in my gut. What if she wants to marry me?
After another ten minutes, the meeting wraps up, and we all shake hands. Just touching Ryan’s ice-cold skin makes me feel slimy, like I need a shower. After Ryan and Regina leave the room, my father and Ben exchange a look.
Ben steps up to me, placing both hands on my shoulders. He’s taller than me, which doesn’t happen very often, and my attention catches on his shrewd brown eyes. “I hear you’ve agreed to be my son-in-law.”
I stiffen, and my gaze cuts to Sabrina, who’s examining her nails, one foot tapping impatiently. I nod. “Yes, sir. That’s the plan.”
He beams. “Splendid!” He turns to my father. “I assume we have a game plan for their courtship so that this all seems genuine?”
“Indeed. I thought they could announce their engagement before the gala—”
The word engagement ratchets up my heartbeat. “Forgive me if I’m being forward,” I interject. “But I think Sabrina and I should meet a few times publicly before our engagement if you actually want this to look real.” I have no idea how my tone is so steady when I feel like I’m crumbling to pieces.
My father and Ben exchange confused looks, and Sabrina sighs.
“Daddy.” She places her hand on his wrist, and he turns to look at her.
“Marcus is right. We can tell the press and the rest of the board that we’ve been dating in private for a while, but a few intimate appearances together will boost the image that we’re in love. ”
I squint at Sabrina. I can’t get a read on her at all, so it’s hard to tell if this is an act or if she genuinely is okay with this ridiculous shit. I do think she’s a lot smarter than she’s letting on.
Ben steps back as Sabrina gives me an cordial smile and reaches out, straightening the lapel of my jacket. She smells like warm citrus, and something about her is alluring but distant. Like she distrusts me.
The feeling is mutual.
“Do you know the popular little Italian place downtown?” she asks, her voice rich and musical.
“Figaro’s?”
She nods. “Let’s have dinner. Give me your number, and we can figure out a date and time.”
We exchange information and then Sabrina and Ben take their leave.
I still feel like I can hardly breathe. I try to make a break for it, but my father insists on dragging me through the whole fucking building for a tour of every department, introducing me to various employees like he’s on some sort of weird power trip.
He claims it’s because he wants people to start recognizing me on sight.
I check my phone between awkward greetings, hoping for a text from Jeremy. Leaving him this morning, coupled with not showing up at the pub, makes me feel like I ghosted him or something. I did get a message from Tristan asking me to send a proof-of-life photo.
To add the pickle on the shit sandwich of my morning, my father then takes me to a high-end wine bar for lunch.
It’s about three by the time I walk into BB&B, and the inside of my head is so loud. I kind of hope Jeremy already left for the day because it takes a lot of emotional bandwidth for me to be around him, and my father and his lackeys drained it all away like fucking energy vampires.
Well, except Regina. She seems nice. And a little boring.
Tristan glances up when I enter. He looks like he’s sifting through bartending résumés, which is what I was supposed to be helping him with today. He raises an eyebrow and places a hand on his hip.
“Are you wearing a suit?”
Fuck. “It does appear that way.”
“Does this have anything to do with your late arrival?”
“Er, yeah.” I literally can’t think of an excuse, but I can’t tell the truth.
Sorry I couldn’t be here earlier. My father forced me to visit his evil lair across the lake, where I had to pretend to be one of the bad guys and meet my future wife. And then dear old dad paraded me around said evil lair like Saruman inspecting the next crop of Uruk-hai.
“Tris, can you get me the floor plan for the kitchen. I think I’m done with the dining room.” Jeremy’s voice is musical, and it instantly relaxes me. Until I turn around and see his face. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes devouring me. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
“I said the same thing,” Tris says. “Also, I love that you two are so comfortable with each other.”
My eyes dart to Tris. “What’re you talking about?”
“Just that people in professional relationships don’t normally converse in f-bombs, obviously.”
“Right,” I mutter.
“You’re not going to explain the suit?” Tristan asks again.
This whole interaction is making me feel anxious and angry.
I want to yell. Or punch something. Like my father’s face.
Like Ryan’s face. But because I don’t want to take it out on the two people who seem to tolerate me, I turn away and say, “I have work to catch up on.” I stomp upstairs to my office.
A lump grows in my throat when I pass Seb’s office. I miss him so much right now.
I sit heavily in my chair and bang my forehead against the desk a few times, trying to regulate my erratic emotions.
Control. Get control.
My heart rate slows, and I sit up, finally taking a deep breath. I open my laptop, put the files that Ryan requested in a zip file, and quickly email it to him and my dad before I give in and write something snarky.
There’s a soft knock on my door.
“What?” I snarl.
Jeremy opens it and steps inside, looking incensed. “What the heck is going on, Marcus?”
“What do you mean?” Playing dumb is a good move, right?
“What do I mean?” Jeremy sputters, his pale cheeks reddening. “You sneak out of my apartment at God knows when this morning. After everything you said yesterday about not ending this, you ghosted me—”
I hold up a finger, and he stops mid-tirade, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t ghost you.”
His hands ball into fists, his whole body shaking, and I lean back, worried he’s about to throw a punch. “You texted Tris this morning instead of me. What was I supposed to think?” Jeremy’s shouting at this point, and I realize with panic that Tristan can probably hear us.
“Shut the door if you’re going to lecture me,” I hiss.
He gives me a cold look and then reaches back and slams the door. Hard. “Is that it? Are you ashamed of me?”
“I’m not ashamed of you.”
“But you’re ashamed of whatever is between us, Marcus. It’s just Tris. He’s queer. He would understand.”
I shake my head vehemently and slam a hand on the desk. Jeremy gives me a critical look like I’m a child throwing a tantrum. “I just can’t tell the world, okay? Not even Tris. I told you that yesterday.”
His voice lowers to a plea. “And I’m not asking you to. But the way you left hurt me, so help me understand what happened.” Jeremy drops his hand to his hip, and now that I know about the scars underneath, it stabs me, sharp and hot, in the chest.
“I just needed some space, okay?” I blurt, my voice wavering.
“Some time to think and process everything.” I give him a pleading look.
“It’s so easy to be with you, Jeremy. Frighteningly so.
But I don’t know how to do this in the light of day.
” I scrub the back of my neck, digging my fingernails into my nape.
“Even just the thought of Tris knowing about us back there fucking freaked me out, and I know he’s an out queer man.
I—” The breath seizes in my lungs, and suddenly I’m gasping for air as the noise in my head reaches a headache-inducing crescendo.
Jeremy’s brows dip, and he’s on the other side of my desk in an instant. He climbs into my lap, his thighs on either side of mine, slotting our bodies together as he takes my cheeks in his hands. “Marcus, sweetheart, breathe. Listen to my voice.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as I continue to gasp, but with every gentle swipe of his thumbs on my cheeks, the air seems to return to my lungs.
Everything falls quiet, my brain engulfed in soft static.
His lips brush my nose, and my eyes flutter open to find his teal ones staring back at me, shining with concern.
“What’s wrong with me?” I whisper as our words mingle together.
“Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re scared, and that’s okay. I remember what it’s like.”
“What’s what like?”
“To feel trapped.” He licks his lips, and my eyes track the movement.
“It took me a long time to accept that I was queer, even though I’ve always felt it.
I was so alone until high school. I thought I had failed at being a man, and liking other men?
Well, that was just one more failure. One more reason I would always be alone.
” I watch the way Jeremy’s freckles dance across the bridge of his nose as his expression changes.
“But I wasn’t alone. And you’re not either, and I promise that it’ll be okay.
I’m not going anywhere, Marcus. We can figure this out together, whether we’re fucking or not. ”
I huff out a surprised laugh. “Your dirty talk could use some work.” He smiles, and I lean forward, pressing our mouths together in a firm but gentle kiss. “I had no intention of ghosting you, Starlight.”
He leans back to study me. “Do you want to tell me what happened? And please include why you showed up wearing a suit.”
I sigh. “My dad showed up at the parking garage. He wanted me to come to the office with him.”
Jeremy’s eyes widen. “So you were with your dad?”
I nod hesitantly, unsure what I should share about my morning from hell.
“Ryan wanted to talk about our progress and the new opening date.” His weight shifts in my lap, and I have to place my hands on his hips, holding him still.
“Being in that building with them . . . it makes me feel out of control and vulnerable, like a child. I don’t really know how else to explain it other than being off balance with no way to steady myself. ”
“What? You? Mr. Super Calm and Collected Businessman?” Jeremy’s mouth ticks up at the corner. “I didn’t know Daddy Marcus bowed to anyone—except when he’s on his knees for me, of course.”
I give him a dark look. “Listen, brat, you’ll pay for that comment later.”
Jeremy leans forward, bracing his hands against my chest, and kisses me, his lips sliding over mine so sensually that my dick instantly hardens. He runs a hand through my hair and tugs me away from his mouth. “Does that mean you’re coming over tonight?”
“Maybe.”
“See you at eight.” He slides off my lap and glances down, and I smirk as he adjusts himself.
“I can’t wait.”