14. Spencer
Chapter 14
Spencer
“ M other,” I say when she answers my call.
“Spencer, darling,” she replies. “What a pleasant surprise. How are you?”
“I have a minor problem … I was hoping you could help me out.”
“You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Son.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips because I’m so grateful for her. I may not be close with my old man, but I’ve always been able to count on my mother over the years. And after witnessing the clusterfuck that is Delilah’s parents, it only makes me appreciate her more.
“It’s concerning Delilah,” I say.
“Oh no, what has happened to that poor girl now?”
“You don’t want to know,” I growl.
“That bad.”
“Yes.”
“That makes me so sad. She’s such a sweet thing.”
I wholeheartedly agree, but I don’t voice that out loud. My mother doesn’t need any encouragement when it comes to the women in my life .
“Is it possible for her to come and stay with you for a while until I can sort something more permanent out?”
“What about your apartment? You have spare rooms.”
“She’s been staying there for the past few nights, but … you know I like my privacy.”
I hear her laugh down the line. “Oh, is that captivating little blonde starting to penetrate that rock-hard exterior of yours?”
“Mother,” I groan. “Can she come and stay with you or not? You have plenty of room, and I know you’d welcome the company.”
“Actually,” she replies. “Now’s not a good time.”
“Why?” I snap.
“You know I’m in the middle of renovations, darling.”
“You’re having your kitchen redone, not the entire house. You don’t even cook, so I fail to see how having Delilah stay there could be an inconvenience.”
“Not to me … never. You know how much I adore that girl, but having a pretty young blonde around while I have a house full of strapping, young tradesmen might pose a problem. On second thoughts, she’s just been through a traumatic breakup … maybe a good rebound fling is exactly what she needs.”
When I growl down the line, she laughs again.
“That’s the last thing she needs,” I grumble. “Never mind. I’ll see if I can work something else out.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that. How about the three of us meet up for dinner one night this week?”
“I’ll think about it,” I mutter, and I can still hear her laughter as I end the call.
I should’ve known my mother would pull a stunt like this. I’m not stupid. She has an agenda … namely, setting me up with a certain little blonde. She’s been trying to get me to settle down for years and probably sees this as the perfect opportunity.
What Eloise Prescott fails to realise is Delilah St. James is practically a minor and far too young for me . For those reasons alone, I have no plans of ever acting on this bizarre, unwelcomed attraction I feel towards her.
Zero, nada … absolutely none.
Today was the first day since taking over this company that I didn’t arrive at work by seven. I’m usually the first here and the last to leave. I love the solitude of being here on my own, and I seem to accomplish more when I’m not constantly being interrupted by calls or my staff.
I hardly slept last night because it felt like the weight of the world was crushing down on my chest. Despite that, I still rose early, as per usual, and headed downstairs for my daily workout at the apartment complex’s gymnasium. This morning, my routine was more vigorous than usual … I had a lot of pent-up frustration I needed to release.
I could’ve headed into the office once I had showered and dressed, getting Damien to come back to collect Delilah later, but I was eager to see her. After everything she’d been through last night, it didn’t feel right not to be here when she woke.
My stomach was tied in knots as I sat at the kitchen island and waited for her to rise. Never in my life had I felt so conflicted. Not even when my mother first approached me about taking over the company my father had dedicated his life to. The feeling was palpable. A part of me wanted to put as much distance between Delilah and myself as possible. The other side wanted to wrap her in my arms and shield her from all the ugliness in the world.
Last night, when she sobbed into my chest, I made a silent vow to myself. I wouldn’t be the next person to let her down. Not like the others had. The rage I felt towards her family for the way they’ve treated and continue to treat her, had me wanting to tear that house down with my bare hands … brick by fucking brick. If they hadn’t let me in when I bashed on the front door, I may have done just that.
Never in my life had I felt so murderous.
The anger returned full force when Delilah entered the main room this morning, dressed and ready for work, and I noticed the bruise forming on her cheek. I tried getting her to eat breakfast before we left, but she just pushed it around her plate.
On the drive to the office, she stared out the window and wouldn’t engage in any type of conversation, no matter how hard I tried. The concern I feel is real, but the only thing I can do is be there for her. If it were up to me, I’d take her entire family down, crushing them like they’ve done with her spirit, but I already know Delilah wouldn’t want that. Her sweetness is bone-deep.
“What in the hell have you done?” Delilah yells as she storms into my office.
“Huh?” I reply because I have no clue what she’s talking about.
“I have Kayne blowing up my phone, accusing me of trying to ruin his father’s business because he received a cease-and-desist letter from my lawyer … I don’t even have a lawyer,” she screeches.
Fuck.
With all the other controversy going on, I completely forgot to broach this subject with her. I sit up straighter in my chair. “They are using your image to promote their business, Delilah.”
She throws her hands up in the air in disbelief. “So!”
I understand why she’s angry, but she’s missing the point here. She constantly lets these people walk all over her because, in her words, she’s afraid to rock the boat. That’s bullshit. She deserves better … I know it, and deep down, she does too.
“Are you being financially compensated for this?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you think that’s fair?”
“I love these people … they were going to become my family.”
“ Going to being the operative word here. You gave four years of your life to these people, their company … and their fucking son. Only to be tossed aside like you meant nothing to them?”
Her face is bright red, and I can tell she’s on the verge of tears. I’m not sure if I can deal with any more. I’m still trying to decompress from the bucketloads she shed last night.
“You had no right to do this without speaking to me first.”
I stand, rounding the desk. “You’re right, I didn’t.” I don’t stop walking until I’m in front of her. My hands reach up to grasp her small shoulders. “I should’ve spoken to you first … I had planned to. But what you fail to realise here, sweetheart, is, it’s time.”
“Time for what? ”
“Time to stand up for yourself. I know you have a kind heart, and I admire that about you, but enough is enough. These people … the ones who are supposed to care about you most, have been mistreating you for years. Aren’t you tired of being their punching bag?” When tears flood her baby blues, I soften my voice. “You not only have the right to stand up for yourself, you have the responsibility to. That’s not being mean or lowering yourself to their level … it’s called self-preservation, Delilah.”
I see the first tear leak from her eye as she bows her head, so I gently place my finger under her chin and lift her face to meet mine. The pad of my thumb skims across her cheek.
“I know what it feels like to be belittled and pushed aside your entire life … my father is a horrible man, and his poor behaviour towards not only me, but my mother affected me a lot growing up. When I took over his company, I didn’t see it as revenge … to me, it was a chance to balance the power, to undo all the wrongs that were committed against me. To show him, despite what he believed, that I was worthy. And I am … so are you. I will not claim it was easy in the beginning, but it took a lot of courage to take a stance, to stand up for myself, and in the end, I came out so much stronger for it. For the first time in a long time, I felt free from all the burdens that had weighed me down growing up.” When a few more tears cascade down her face, I gather her in my arms and hold her tight. “You deserve so much more than what you’ve been given, Delilah.”
“I’m sorry for everything he did to you,” she says, sniffling.
“Don’t be. It made me the man I am today. It taught me to stop judging myself by the actions of others. Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed. It simply means the harm that was inflicted on you no longer defines or controls your life.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “I guess what they say is true … with age comes wisdom.”
“I’m only ten years older than you,” I grumble.
This time she lets out a small laugh, and it’s like music to my ears.
Her phone hasn’t stopped pinging since she entered my office, so I hold out my hand. “Give me that.”
“Why?”
“I’ll deal with it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to block him so he can no longer contact you.”
I’m expecting some resistance, so I’m surprised when she hands her phone over without another word.
I move back behind my desk and take a seat before opening the thread of messages. I want to see what I’m dealing with here. I use the tip of my finger to scroll to the first message she received today.
Kayne: I can’t believe you would stoop so low. What has my family ever done to you? My father gave you a job, and this is how you repay him? Your true colours are showing now Li.
Delilah: I don’t know what you’re talking about, so please leave me alone.
Kayne: Fuck you, Delilah. My father got your cease-and-desist letter from your lawyer. Maybe your sister has been right all along.
Delilah: I don’t care what you or my sister think of me. As far as I’m concerned, you can both go to hell.
Kayne: She said this sweet act you put on is just that … an act. That deep down, you’re a manipulative cunt. I think she may be right.
Delilah: It sounds like she was describing herself. Good luck with that one. I think you’re going to need it!
I can’t hold back the chuckle when I read her last response. She hit the nail right on the head.
My eyes continue down the page to see Abigail’s name added to the thread. Did the two of them plan to gang up on her?
Abigail: Kayne told me what you did to his dad. You’re such a nasty bitch!
Delilah’s response is gold.
Delilah: Eat a dick, Abigail!!!!
Abigail: I might just do that … Kayne loves it when I take him down my throat. He said your inexperience was a turnoff. Isn’t that right, babe?
Wow, her sister is a real piece of work.
Kayne: No contest there. Abs is a way better lay than you ever were.
And that message wipes the smile right off my face. Someone needs to teach this fucker some manners.
Abigail: Aww. Thanks babe.
Delilah: Gag! You two deserve each other.
Delilah: And, I’d expect that considering half the town has been through Abigail … unfortunately, my experience was only limited to you.
He was her first? Her only?
That knowledge only amplifies my rage.
I skim over the rest of his messages, none of which she replied to. They must’ve been the ones sent while she was talking to me. When I reach the last one, I start to type. It’s a link, nothing more, and I’m anticipating they’ll both click on it. Poor clueless idiots.
When I see both of their profile images appear underneath it, I can only gather they did as I was hoping. With the trap set, I move to her settings and block both of them, including their phone numbers. I’ve never considered myself vengeful, but I’m fiercely protective of the people I care about.
That realisation stops me in my tracks.
I care about her.
My eyes flicker briefly to Delilah—who is still standing on the opposite side of my desk, nervously nibbling on her plump bottom lip—and I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
It’s true. I do. More than I’d like to admit.
Fuck.
I push that thought from my mind and refocus on my task at hand. I’ll unpack that shit later, over a bourbon or two.
I’m on a mission to get some kind of retribution for Delilah. I’m going to make these two pay for the way they’ve treated her.
Extending my arm, I hold out her phone.
“What did you do?” she asks, taking it from my hand.
“I blocked them. They can’t bother you now. ”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I don’t bother telling her about the link because it may lead me nowhere.
I have so much work to do today, but instead, I’ve spent the entire afternoon falling down the rabbit hole that is Kayne and Abigail, and what an interesting ride it turned out to be—far more informative than I ever imagined. The link I added to the thread was an untraceable software tracking virus, which gave me unlimited access to their browsing history and private information … including images, emails, and messages.
Unfortunately, the things I’m learning have the potential to upset Delilah. That being said, she has a right to know what her scumbag ex has been up to … and her not-so-saintly sister as well. Knowledge is power and I’ll leave the intel in her capable hands, to use however she pleases.
When my phone buzzes on my desk, I pick up the receiver. “Yes.”
“Mr Prescott, it’s Shay-lee from reception. I have a Mrs St. James on the line … she’d like to speak with you if you’re free. She said it was a private matter.”
I sit up straighter in my chair. “Put her through.”
“Mr Prescott,” she says when the call is connected.
“Mrs St. James.”
“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I know you’re a busy man.”
“Why don’t we skip the pleasantries?” I will not waste my time making small talk with this woman. “What can I do for you? ”
“I’m calling about Delilah. I’m worried about her.”
“Were you concerned when Abigail assaulted Delilah last night?”
“I don’t like my daughter's fighting, Mr Prescott.”
“Was it a fair fight, Mrs St. James, or was it three against one?”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating?—”
“Your complete lack of regard for what Delilah has been through to start.”
“I—”
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes, Mrs St. James. Your daughter stole her fiancé. Have you ever stopped to think how deeply that must’ve hurt her?”
“Of course … it was a terrible situation for all.”
“The only victim I see here is Delilah. Those two went on what was supposed to be her honeymoon and flaunted pictures of themselves all over social media. And how did you deal with that? You gave them a welcome home dinner and made your daughter attend. If that doesn’t scream heartless or, at the very least, insensitive …”
“You’re right,” she says.
“And when I got to your house last night, I found you and your husband consoling Abigail in the hallway, while Delilah sobbed her heart out in her room … all alone.”
“Is she there? Can I speak with her? I’ve been trying to reach her.”
“I advised her to turn her phone off after she spent the morning being verbally abused by Kayne and Abigail.”
“Oh.”
“If I put you through to her, are you going to upset her?”
“No,” she answers without hesitation .
“If you do, I’ll?—”
“I won’t,” she says, cutting me off. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
It’s a little late for that, but I still transfer the call to Delilah’s desk.
Once I return the receiver to the cradle, I stand and round my desk, stopping just inside the open doorway, so I can hear what transpires. A part of me doesn’t trust what she says. It shouldn’t take a virtual stranger to point out the obvious.
“Mum,” Delilah says into the phone, and I can hear the trepidation in her voice. “Yes, I’m okay … I’m staying at Spencer’s for now … No, I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be coming back home.” She won’t be if I have my way. “I feel safe there.” I hate that her admission has my stupid heart beating a tad faster. “My lip is okay … a little sore.” I peek around the doorframe to see her tenderly touch her injured mouth. This woman has me all kinds of fucked up. “I put some ice on it to help with the swelling … He’s good to me, Mum … Yes, he treats me well.”
I feel like a creep standing here. Spinning around, I stalk back to my desk because I shouldn’t be listening to their conversation. I’ve done several things I shouldn’t have today that go against everything I stand for. Not to mention some of the crazy shit I’ve pulled over the past few weeks. I barely even recognise this side of me.
I feel like I’m stuck on some crazy emotional rollercoaster, with highs and lows that at times have me feeling out of control. My heart and mind are in a constant tug-of-war between desire and reason, and it’s driving me to the edge of insanity.