Wanting

Chapter 18

T wenty-five hours later, when I came into work on Monday morning, my boss, Caroline, told me I’d been fired.

She wouldn’t look at me. The only explanation she gave was that my work had been reviewed and it was lacking, and they were doing some reshuffling in the department.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with my work, does it?” I’d expected this, but inside, I was panicking. “It has to do with Richard Randolph.”

Caroline plucked at her collar. “I only know what I’ve been told. I’m sorry, Andie.” Finally, she met my gaze. “I think your work was great. We’ll miss you.”

I paced the streets with the few belongings from my desk, then holed up at the library to look for a new job.

I sent résumés to every publishing house, large and small. Meanwhile, Will was looking for a job of his own. But even he had underestimated how deep Richard’s tentacles ran. He couldn’t get an interview anywhere. Neither could I.

Meg and Emily agreed he could stay with us short-term, rent-free. They appreciated the scandal, and the view, and the forbidden romance of it all.

A few days later, I found a job as a barista across town, bringing back memories of the college summer I’d worked at a coffeeshop. It didn’t pay enough to cover my portion of the rent, but for now, it was better than nothing.

I knew how much it bothered Will not to be paying rent, though. To not have a job or be independent.

And Rose and Richard didn’t give up easily. Every day, some new threat came in. The latest was a letter from Richard’s lawyers, informing Will that if he didn’t comply with expectations, he’d be cut out of his parents’ will.

“Guess I’m disowned, then,” he said with a shrug.

But at night, he wasn’t casual. He’d wake up, struggling to breathe. I’d hold him until he calmed down. Then we’d make love. Sometimes it was soft and sweet; sometimes rough and savage. I left scratches on his back. My roommates eyed the hickeys on my neck and advised me that when I did get an interview, I better wear a scarf.

Demons didn’t just go away. Some of them might stay forever.

On a Saturday morning, three weeks after Will had left his old life, I was sitting on his lap at our scuffed kitchen table. His blue robe was draped around me. Meg was drinking coffee — which Will had made — and regaling us with the latest celebrity gossip. Emily was scrambling eggs at the stovetop.

A loud pounding came on the door.

Emily wrinkled her brow. “Expecting someone?”

We all shook our heads. The knock came again. Meg went to the door and peered through the peephole.

“Two guys, our age. Well-dressed, kind of hot in an ‘I yacht on the weekends’ sort of way. Will, these look like your people. Should I let them in?”

I twisted around to look at Will, who had a slight smile on his face.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Meg opened the door. “Can I help you?” she asked primly.

“Yeah, is Will there?” came a familiar voice.

“Come on in.” She stepped back, and Spence and Pax walked into our apartment.

Spence was busy scoping out everything that was old and crumbling about the place, trying to cover his surprise. But Pax zeroed in straight on Will. And me, sitting on his lap.

“Holy shit,” he yelped. “Excuse my language, ladies,” he added to Meg and Emily. “The two of you…you really are… fuck. I thought there was something in the air, and believe me, there’ve been rumors, but you’re like, together.”

Spence whirled from his inspection of the apartment to gape at the two of us. “Will, are you serious? Your cousin?”

“Yes,” Will said calmly. “I don’t think you’ve said hello to Andie yet.”

Spence blinked. “Hello, Andrea. Looking beautiful as always.” His eyes flicked down to Will’s bathrobe wrapped around me.

I discreetly tightened the belt. “Hi, Spence.”

I’d told Will I wasn’t ashamed of us, didn’t want to hide anymore. I would never have chosen Spence and Pax as the first people — outside Meg and Emily — to announce our relationship to, but I straightened on Will’s lap, summoning every last shred of my dignity. I tried to own the situation the way he was.

“Very beautiful,” Pax added, like he couldn’t help himself. “I knew it,” he added to Spence out of the side of his mouth. “I told you, there was something going on.”

“That’s enough.” The casual command I remembered was back in Will’s voice, full force. Spence and Pax both flashed apologetic grins. Apparently, even if he was disowned from the Randolph fortune, Will could still carry authority.

“What’s going on with you?” Spence sat down gingerly at the table. “Have you completely flipped out?”

“No, I’ve come to my senses,” Will replied.

Meg and Emily stood by the stove, watching with rapt attention as Pax pulled up the other chair, straddling it with an attempt at a soulful look.

“Listen, Will, your mom gave us the address here, but we would’ve come ourselves. We need to talk.”

“Can we have this conversation in private?” Spence put in. “No offense to the lovely girls present.”

“No,” Will said calmly. “They live here. We’re in the middle of breakfast.”

Emily took this as her cue to scrape the scrambled eggs onto plates, handing them around to Meg, Will, and me. “Um…” She eyed Spence and Pax.

Pax held up his hand. “Don’t worry about us. We already ate.”

Spence looked around the kitchen, and for a minute, I saw it through his eyes. “This doesn’t have to be your life, man.”

“Is that all?” Will sounded cool, distant. I’d never been a fan of Spence and Pax, but I felt a pang at their sudden, identical hurt expressions.

“No, it’s not all,” Pax said suddenly, sounding determined. “We’re here to say that we’re your friends. Okay? We’ve known each other practically since birth and that doesn’t end now. We don’t care what anyone says about you. And believe me, they’re saying some crazy shit. They all think you’re certifiably insane for leaving your family and dumping Maddie. But we don’t give a damn about that. Or that you’re in a relationship with your cousin. Is it a relationship, by the way? Or just a…a…” He waved his hand.

“It’s a relationship.” Will’s voice was still cool, but his arm around me had relaxed.

“Congratulations.” Pax held his hand out to me. Feeling like this was a dream, I shook it. “Wishing you all the best.”

“Even if no one else wants to be friends with you, we do,” Spence said.

A slow, incredulous smile was spreading across Will’s face. “I really can’t get rid of you, can I?”

“Nope.” Spence grinned broadly. “We came to make sure you’re not living in some shithole with rats crawling over you, but also, let’s hang out.”

“I don’t have employment yet,” Will said lightly. “We won’t be hanging out in the style you’re accustomed to.”

“Fuck that. Your dad’s shutting you out, right?” Pax dug in his pocket and slapped three business cards on the table. “A present, from us to you. These people hate Richard’s guts.”

I eyed the cards, then exchanged looks with Meg and Emily, who leaned against the counter, eating their scrambled eggs.

Will swept the cards with a glance. “I know about them. They’re not going to hire Richard Randolph’s son.”

“You’re disowned now, man!” Spence put in. “At least one of them will love pissing off your dad.”

“I don’t want to do anything more on Richard’s back,” Will said firmly.

“Come on,” Pax said. “We’re trying to cut you a break. No man is an island. You want to take care of your girl, right? Get your own place…go out…have fun…” He winked at me. “What do you think, Andrea? Should Will call them?”

“Pax, stop flirting with my girlfriend,” Will said, but he didn’t sound too upset.

“Girlfriend,” Spence muttered, whistling. “Damn.”

“It’s worth a try,” I said.

* * *

Will was right. The first two people he contacted had no interest in hiring Richard Randolph’s son.

But the third had heard the gossip: the scion of the Randolph media empire, the only son, was disowned. He was curious. He told Will that he didn’t expect much of him, but he’d give him a chance. For a trial period, he’d have to prove himself and work twice as hard as everyone else.

News traveled quickly. After Will’s first day at work, Richard contacted him with another threat. If he didn’t leave his new job — and me — and report for work at Richard’s office the next day, my parents would find out the truth about us.

So I called them first.

My father was shocked, but said little. In the end, what seemed to surprise him most was that I got together with Will after he’d walked away from his family fortune. If the money isn’t in the picture, Andie, what on earth do you want with him?

My mother had more to say.

“Andie, how are you? I hear there’s trouble in paradise,” she exclaimed when I called. Her voice was warm and gossipy. “Rose is in denial, Richard is on the rampage, and who knows where Will is.”

I let out a long breath. “He’s here.”

“Here?”

“In my apartment.”

“I see,” she said cautiously. “So you’ve gotten mixed up in all of this.”

I was walking through the neighborhood, June sunlight filtering onto my head and shoulders. I didn’t want Meg and Emily, or even Will, to overhear this conversation. The sidewalk was public, but I could be anyone. Trees in full leaf rustled overhead, and happy summer voices rushed around me.

I took a deep breath. “I lost my job for it. The one Richard got me.”

“What? That bastard!” my mother stormed. “I can’t believe he’d stoop so low. Are you all right? Do you need money?” Her voice sharpened with alarm. I knew my mother didn’t have extra to spare.

“I’m okay for now. I got a barista job and I’m looking. Will just got a good position. If it works out…” I trailed off.

“So he’d help you,” my mother said slowly. “I suppose that’s fair. But sheltering Will? I gathered that you’ve become friends, but is that really worth losing your job over?”

“Mom, we’re more than friends.”

There was a very long silence. “What do you mean?”

My fingers clenched on the phone. “I think you understand what I mean.”

“Andie, he’s your cousin.” My mom sounded choked. I wished we were face-to-face. “He’s spoiled, he’s led a life we can’t imagine, he’s — oh God. He’s your cousin.”

“Believe me, I know.”

I glanced up and down the sidewalk. A street vendor was selling tacos on the corner, and the savory smell of meat and corn tortillas wafted toward me. I pictured my mother pacing the kitchen, which she always did when she was upset.

“His family is insane,” she pointed out.

“He’s distanced himself from them.”

“And they’ve cut him off. That doesn’t mean the effects will go away. I just don’t understand. You and Will? Are you acting out because of your dad and me?”

“Mom, I’m twenty-three. I’m not acting out. This is my life.”

She let out a long sigh. “Why him?”

I closed my eyes. “Because we love each other.”

“Oh, Andie.” Sympathy warmed her voice. I wondered how my mom and my aunt had turned out so differently. “There are a hundred reasons why this is a terrible idea.”

“Name them for me, Mom. Because I promise, I’ve thought of them all.”

“There are other men out there. Men who come without complications.”

“Really? Who comes without complications?”

She laughed reluctantly. “You have a point. But if you pursue a relationship with Will, you have a very hard road ahead of you.”

“I’m not afraid.”

We said “goodbye” and “I love you.”

The truth was out.

I sat down on a bench, took a notebook from my embroidered purse, and began to write. After five dry years, the words started to come. Slowly at first, then in spurts, and finally picking up the pace to a waterfall.

For the first time since I was eighteen, I shed the fear of being watched, tracked, followed, and wrote from the heart. I wrote about Will’s world and the woods behind my house. I wrote what I had to say.

My mother called up my aunt and uncle to yell at them about my job, which accomplished nothing. But it made me feel better to know that my mom had my back.

Several days later, as Will remained adamant about not returning to his old life, a local gossip column ran a piece about him. About us. William Randolph, scion of the Randolph media empire, had run off with his poor, penniless cousin and been disowned by his father. The scandal! The shame! Meg, who read gossip columns religiously, showed it to us, while Emily tried to brighten the mood by pouring wine to celebrate the announcement.

“Do you think Spence and Pax did this?” I murmured.

Will shook his head. “I trust them. But I wouldn’t put it past my parents.”

In a strange way, it was a relief. I’d been afraid for so long of this secret coming out. Afraid of the family influence, their power over my job, their power over Will himself. Now all of that had shattered. Light streamed in. We could see the sky. We could breathe.

At Will’s new job, he worked harder than he’d ever worked in his life. His late nights matched mine — his at the office, mine at home, as I pounded out essays to pitch to publications as a freelance writer.

Eventually, I found a job at a new small press that was beneath the notice of any media titans. The pay was lower, but the duties were lighter, giving me time to keep writing in the evenings.

When I sold my first essay, Will insisted on buying a bottle of champagne.

The chilled liquid fizzed over my naked skin in the bathtub. Will’s hot tongue followed. As he pulled me down to share, the icy prickle brought back the first time we’d done this, at a fancy hotel a year ago, sneaking around with no sense of a future.

Now, we were in our own apartment.

As soon as we could afford it, we’d moved out of the apartment with Meg and Emily into our own place. It was small and cozy, and I knew it was an adjustment for Will, a far cry from the luxurious apartment that his parents had set up for him after graduation.

But it was ours.

Inside its walls, we could do anything we wanted.

Sometimes I’d catch Will running his hands over those walls with a look of wonder on his face, like he couldn’t believe he’d paid for this place himself.

After a year together, my mom began to accept that this love might last. She told Will not to call her Aunt Selene, because it weirded her out. Just Selene, please. She came to visit us, and we visited her in the old stone farmhouse.

There, Will and I wandered in the woods for a long time, until it was almost too dark to see, until our mouths were swollen from kissing and our skin scratched from brambles, and I was throbbing and sated from all the times Will had made me come, up against a tree or on the soft moss, still feeling his deep thrusts as we locked together.

“Run away with me, Andie?” he asked, brushing leaves from my sweat-damp hair, before we emerged into the world.

“Always.” I kissed him, sinking into the sweetness of his mouth. “Every time.”