Chapter 17
seventeen
. . .
Cracking
Fourteen years ago
desiree
sixteen years old
I stepped into Mr. Carlisle’s office with trepidation. Taven stood beside me, holding my hand, and I wondered if he felt as nervous in his father’s presence as I did. While Mr. Carlisle had requested my presence alone, Taven had insisted he join me, which I was relieved by. His parents made me uncomfortable, seeming more like headmasters at a school than warm and nurturing caretakers, and the prospect of being in a room alone with him was utterly intimidating.
I knew that Taven felt constant pressure from his parents. He felt like he didn’t have the same studious temperament that the rest of his family had or expected of him. I knew that he had tutors when he was a kid, and more recently, Jacqui would tutor him and turn the lessons into understandable snippets that he could retain. But Taven never asked me for help. I had a feeling his pride kept him from doing so. Anytime I offered, he’d wave me off, joking that he could think of better ways for us to spend our time.
I think he just feared me seeing him struggle, and that broke my heart. I had debated adding “Ask Desiree for Help with School Once in a While” on one of his Bingo squares, but then thought better of it, not wanting to set off insecurities.
The thing was, Taven was smart in a way I could never be. I’d stand in the garage with him and watch him tinker with Inferno for hours. There was one day where he had the entire engine on the concrete floor, and I wondered how the hell he was going to put it all back together. I remember being nervous when he started the car to test whatever latest gadget he had installed. I imagined the car blowing up, and when he could see my fear, he pulled me close to him. He leaned into my ear and whispered, “Dazzle, I got this, baby. Relax. I know what I’m doing.”
The engine purred to life and I beamed at the grin on his face, seeing the boyishness in his pride, knowing whatever sound or response he was hoping for was there.
He also had a love for certain aspects of history. What started as a love for vintage cars became an obsession with the Industrial Revolution, how Ford had enabled cars to be available to the masses. When I’d struggle with boredom over a school history project, he’d go into all the behind-the-scenes of random tidbits of information about how this or that came to be, telling stories in this animated way that made it feel like an adventure. He had a freakish gift for memorizing random facts. I would tease him that he just made that up, but then I’d go online to confirm, and sure enough, whatever the thing was would be correct. Taven’s mind was meant to explore and figure out in a hands-on way, but the confines of a classroom seemed to do nothing to serve him.
His parents never tried to understand that. Instead they would relentlessly scold him, serving punishments on the silver platter of withheld privileges, one of which was occasionally me, prior to the family blow-up.
But there we stood, hand in hand in front of the formidable William Carlisle. Taven’s dad. A righteous man, from what I could tell, with many opinions about the “right” way to do things. He was almost militant in that way. And now we were confronting him, two kids about to be in trouble not just for the half-naked twist we were caught in, but for seeing each other behind his back.
I looked around the room, wanting to avoid eye contact. It was bathed in warm browns, a small space in comparison to everything else in the house. The walls were lined with books, there was a massive brick fireplace running from floor to ceiling. Leather couches and club chairs coated in caramel luxury, a small mini bar. The whole thing reminded me of the office from The Godfather . I wondered momentarily if the Carlisles were involved in that kind of thing. I knew they had built the house a few years ago, but I couldn’t remember where they were originally from. Did they even have mafia in Ohio? I had no idea.
Mr. Carlisle spoke first. “Taven, I thought I said I wanted to speak to Desiree alone.”
I could feel Taven straighten his spine beside me, and I had this urge to hug him and tell him he didn’t need to be brave in front of his father, all for me. That his father didn’t mean a damn thing to us, but of course, that wasn’t true. It was the wishful thinking of a teenaged kid.
“Sir, I can’t think of a single thing you would need to say to Desiree without me being here too.”
My blood felt thick in my ears. I could smell cigar smoke, and I prayed it would mask the scent of my perfume. I suddenly felt like a kid pretending to be a grown-up with the stupid perfume on. I was standing right there, but the two of them were talking as if I weren’t. I felt small and inconsequential, even as Taven stood by my side.
I could feel his hand squeezing harder, and Mr. Carlisle’s eyes dropped to our bundle of sweaty palms and nerves before looking back up again. “Fine,” he finally said, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He leaned back in his chair and told us to have a seat. Taven and I stood frozen. He ignored our disobedience of the command and looked at me. “How is your mother doing, Desiree?”
I pulled my head back. “My mother?”
“Yes. How is Holly?”
He was asking about my mother. Holly Hatson. I pictured my mom’s tired eyes and stringy hair, the way her clothes were hanging from her slim frame far too loosely. I felt protective of her. I pulled my chin up and said, “She’s doing great, actually. Really well.” Mr. Carlisle could go fuck himself if he thought I was going to indulge him with the tales of how she was falling apart, thanks to his slimy business schemes.
He narrowed his eyes at me, clearly not believing a word of it. I hated him in that moment. Did he really want me to share all about how shitty things were since the Carlisle-Hatson fallout? Would that give him some sick satisfaction? Money and power and casualties, I guess that was his thing.
Taven stepped forward, dropping my hand. “Dad,” he said, then he cleared his throat and said, “Sir.”
“Taven, I would like for you to step out of the room, please.”
“No.”
My heart fluttered wildly, feeling like I was in the lion’s den and about to watch a cub get mauled. I wanted to reach forward and pull Taven’s shoulders back, tell him we should just leave, and then run away in Inferno and never come back.
Mr. Carlisle glared at Taven. “I would like to speak with Desiree alone. Now. I don’t bite, and this is a matter that requires some privacy. Surely if this is someone you care about, you would want to respect her sense of privacy?” He raised his eyebrows, the crinkles in his forehead becoming more prominent.
Taven stood firm. “Privacy for what, what do you want with her?”
“I would like. To speak. To Desiree. Alone.” I stared at Taven’s father, unblinking. I held my breath, not sure what was going on. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach like something bad was about to happen. I’d never spoken to Mr. Carlisle alone before. Every instinct in me told me I didn’t want to start now.
“There’s no need for that, Dad,” Taven pleaded. I didn’t want to know why he had such desperation in his voice. “Just let me take her home.”
Mr. Carlisle’s eyes zeroed in on his son. He spoke slowly. “It was understood that you were not to see one another again, remember? And yet, here Desiree is. Which means you have put me in a difficult position, Taven. One that has me wondering if I will continue to need to question whether or not my son is sneaking around against our orders. No matter what, I need to address some things. So that we can put what has happened behind us.”
I could see Taven’s nostrils flaring, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. But he remained silent. Mr. Carlisle continued. “You’re young, both of you. I know you think what you have is more important than what is best, but you’ll see. You have your whole lives ahead of you to make your own choices.” His voice was restrained, I could tell. He was becoming increasingly agitated. “And your loyalty to this family , Taven,” he said. His fist met the desk before him in a startling slam, and the pens in their crystal container rattled, along with my nerves. “That loyalty is paramount. I thought that was understood.”
Taven stepped closer to him. “It doesn’t have to be that way. You know that. She has nothing to do with any of this. You can’t punish us out of spite.”
“Is that what you think this is? Spite? Taven.” Mr. Carlisle’s furrowed his eyebrows as if confused. He softened his tone. “I’m sorry. To you both, but this is what’s best. It’s time you go your separate ways, and that’s final. It’s very simple.”
Taven stood back and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s impossible,” he said, tone steely. “Desiree is pregnant.”
“She what ? ”
“And we’re keeping it.”
My jaw dropped and I looked at Taven in shock, my eyes growing about a thousand times wider. I looked back at Mr. Carlisle just in time to see him closing his. “No, she’s not. Please tell me she’s not,” he whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
No, I most definitely was not . Though now I wished I was. I wished we had actually had sex and were reckless and that I could be the knocked-up teenage girl, carrying Taven Carlisle’s baby. It was a twisted thought. But I couldn’t help but fantasize that if I were pregnant, there would be no way our families could keep us apart. I’d have the baby, we’d figure it out and be a beautiful family of three and live happily ever after.
I loved how determined Taven was. The balls he had. To come up with something like that on the fly, lie straight to his father’s face all in the name of getting more time with me. I could never in a million years do something like that. I’d be a blubbering mess trying to get through the lie.
Mr. Carlisle rose from his seat, leaning his palms on his desk. I tried to read his expression, but couldn’t. Rage, I imagine, though he hid it well. “Is this true, Desiree? How far along are you?”
I had the urge to cry. It would have been an appropriate reaction, tears at the confessions of our indiscretions. But my tears were threatening me for other reasons. For feeling trapped and having no idea what to do or say. “I…uhhh. I don’t really know,” I mumbled. My mind spun up a plan, we could go have sex and try to get pregnant! Then it could all be true! I suddenly felt sick, my mind whiplashing me in a thousand irrational and terrible thoughts. I was miserable having to stand here like this. Like a criminal standing before the judge. I wanted to run away and climb under the covers and get back to some semblance of simple normalcy, because this was all feeling like too much, and I was cracking.
Taven stood beside me and placed his hand on my back, rubbing in gentle strokes. “We just found out. And we’re keeping it.” I fought the urge to look at Taven and expose my disbelief in him standing here, spinning this lie. My face was hot, and I didn’t dare say a word.
Mr. Carlisle swore beneath his breath. “Does your mother know?” he asked me. I shook my head no. He leaned back in his chair, rocking it in a gentle rhythm. He ran his hands over his face, and I looked at the simple gold band around his fourth finger. “This is exactly what your mother and I feared, Taven.” His voice was muffled behind his hands, and for the briefest moment, I felt sympathy for the man. I heard more sadness in his voice than rage.
He dropped his hands and pulled open a drawer in his desk. I watched with both fear and curiosity as he pulled out a white envelope. He opened it and pulled out a slip of paper. A check, from what I could tell. I expected him to be yelling now, or demanding I go take a pregnancy test this instant and prove it, or throw us both out of there or something .
His silence was far worse.
Mr. Carlisle held the check in front of him for a moment, contemplating something before finally raising it to me. “The first thing you need to do is tell your mother, Desiree.” I nodded, no words able to escape my mouth. “And you are to give this to her.”
I slowly stepped forward and took the paper from him, my eyes widening at what I was reading. A check to Holly Hatson. For a hundred thousand dollars. It had already been filled out, and my mind raced with what this could be for or what it could mean.
Taven came up beside me, leaning over to see. “Dad, seriously? Hush money bullshit?”
Hush money? I had no idea what he was talking about. Hush money for what?
“Watch your mouth, son.”
I heard Taven huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Let me get this straight. You think you can fix everything with some check, have the Hatsons go away quietly and never return. Problem solved.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “That’s a fucking disgusting insult…” It sounded like he had more to say, but he only shook his head as his voice faded to quiet .
I studied his face, trying to understand. I saw the indignation, hurt, and anger shooting from his eyes to his dad who had just completely humiliated both me and my family. Did he know something I didn’t?
“That is not what this is,” his father insisted.
“What is it then?”
“A gift.”
“For what?” Taven demanded, arms extending out beside him. “What do you suppose that would do?”
If I thought I felt like a piece of trash earlier—when I thought Taven was done with me—then I now felt like a damn swampland filled with the waste of the upper echelons of civilization. A check for a hundred grand. Just like that. Pay us off and move on, like that’s all my family was. Money-hungry simpletons that could be commanded with the simple stroke of a pen.
Mr. Carlisle looked at Taven. “S on . May I remind you that you insisted on being here. I would have preferred to give this to Desiree in private.”
“So you could humiliate her without an audience.”
“As I said, son. It’s a gift. One that your mother insisted on.”
Lynda? Why would Lynda insist on this so-called gift? I felt downright nauseas with confusion. Like I stepped into another universe or something. One where I was faking a pregnancy and accepting hush money gifts from wealthy titans.
Taven sneered. “Like hell it is. You’re unfuckingbelievable.” He locked his hands behind his head, pacing. He dropped his hands and pointed at the check in my grasp. “It’s a payoff to exit . You think it’s all that simple?”
“It’s a chance to help. To make things right.”
My eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, trying to understand what was happening. Did Taven know something I didn’t? Did his parents do this kind of thing a lot? Use and abuse people and then pay them off once they had their fill?
Taven crossed his arms over his chest and moved over to the back of the couch, surprising me by leaning on it. He dropped his gaze to the ground, seeming to relax his shoulders just the tiniest bit. “Dad,” he said, his voice now quiet. “If you want to help Holly, you should speak to her directly.” Taven looked back up at his father. “Don’t do it like this.”
I couldn’t wrap my head around the scene happening before me. Help Holly? Not Mrs. Hatson, but Holly? As if Taven and my mother were equals as opposed to him being the teenaged boy dating her teenaged daughter.
And why would Mr. Carlisle want to help my mother? I thought they pulled all their funding and were through with us. Could my mom and Taven’s dad have had an affair? Was this all some sordid turmoil that Taven’s dad was trying to clean up? I couldn’t begin to believe that. I saw the way my mom looked at my father. Like Frank Hatson hung the moon. She was head over heels for him, had been since she was “green behind the ears,” as she was always so proud to say.
I had no idea what was really going on, and I was suddenly exhausted and had zero desire to know. We needed to get out of here. I needed to get out of here. A strange fear was bubbling inside me, and I worried I was in danger. Alarm bells were going off in my head to run , but at the same time, I couldn’t move.
Mr. Carlisle rose from his seat and stepped out from behind his desk. “That’s enough of your input now, son,” he said before turning to me. “Desiree, you’ve always struck me as a good kid.” He was buttering me up, I knew it. I detested it. “That check is for your mother,” he continued. “She won’t speak to us, so I trust that you will ensure she receives it. And as for the latest development—” Our baby , I thought. Not a development. Though it was a baby that didn’t exist, so what difference did it really make? It was good to know where this man would stand, though, if it did. “I will speak to Mrs. Carlisle and we’ll go from there.”
Then he put his hands on my shoulders and looked me directly in the eyes. They were dark brown, like Taven’s. I struggled to bravely look into them, instead choosing to scan the small curve of his eyebrows.
When he spoke, his words surprised me. “It will be okay, Desiree. Alright? Whatever you decide, it will be okay.”
Then he dropped his hands and dismissed us, telling Taven he could drive me home after all.
Explaining what was done was already done.