46. Sara
46
SARA
T he music dips for a few moments, and in the space between tracks, I hear the distant song of violins coming from the estate. My hazy, post sex eyes blink open when I remember we’re supposed to be in the middle of a ball.
I worm out of Jack’s grip, sliding from the bed to retrieve my dress from the floor.
“Oh dear,” I groan, tugging the dress over my chest.
“Nothing I love hearing more after sex.” Jack grins from his stretched out, sleepy position on top of the sheets.
“Not the sex.” I smirk whilst twisting and aligning the dress to my body. “That was…incredible. It’s just, I can’t believe we did it on a stranger’s bed. Twice. What a terrible violation.”
He breathes out a small laugh. “I’m sure plenty of other beds will be violated tonight.”
“Not funny.” I smile, zipping up my dress before dropping onto the bed to slide my feet into my shoes. “Unless this ball is one big ruse for an orgy. ”
“Nah.” He shrugs. “But the location definitely has the potential.”
My eyes flare. “Please tell me you’re not a swinger. I dated someone in college who was into that and even though I respect an individual’s choices, it’s just not my?—”
“I’m not a swinger, Sara,” he confirms. “I don’t like to share.”
I gaze down at my shoe, hiding the subtle grin which tugs at my mouth before returning to my original point. “But what if the owner finds out we snuck in here? I’d be so fired.”
“Owner wouldn’t care.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m the owner.”
I freeze, then twist my neck to look at him. He’s propped up against the pillows, both hands clasped behind his neck, still entirely and gorgeously naked.
“This is yours? I thought you said you only discovered this place last year?” I say, continuing to squirm into my shoe.
“It’s a big estate, I still haven’t seen all the rooms.” He considers the revelation thoughtfully. “You could stay the night. We could visit them all?”
I leap from the bed. “Wait, the entire property is yours? Hemmingvale is yours?” My hands fly to my temples because I’ve barely gotten over the fact he has a chopper. Now he’s talking about ownership of this sprawling estate, casually mentioning it as though it were a small add on. Like when you include a four-dollar item to your cart so you qualify for free delivery.
“You don’t like it?” he asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean, what’s not to like? I suppose every time I think I know you, you surprise me by?—”
“By pulling an eighteenth-century monstrosity out of my ass?”
I smile weakly. “Yes. Only it’s not monstrous. It’s incredible.”
His stomach contracts, muscles flexing as he moves off the bed. “I know it’s a lot. But this isn’t a home or a place to spend every other weekend. It’s a venue. The last owner couldn’t keep up with the maintenance of the place. He almost sold it to someone who wanted to turn it into a hotel.”
“Is that bad?” I ask.
Jack shrugs as he scoops up items of clothing from different corners of the room and begins to dress. “Hemmingvale isn’t just an estate. It’s a place for fundraisers and charities. The left wing is entirely dedicated to a charity that supports improvements in STEM. Sure, there are other locations, but this place has history, and it does too much good to be lost to another country club.”
He buttons his shirt as he crosses the room, and when he reaches me, he slides his hands around my hip.
“Sara, I want to show you all the things I do, all my projects and plans. Everything. Hiring you was my way of showing you my world. My work is my life, and sure there’s a lot that comes with that, but being in a position to help charities and make a difference, makes it worth it. I was about to tell you about this place but then you…” He glides his hand up and down the zip at the side of my dress.
“Got naked?” I offer.
“Yeah.” He grins. “Very glad you did that, for the record.”
Then something about him shifts. He gets a little quieter, a little…nervous ?
“What is it?”
“Remember right before I left you at the watch tower, you said you wanted a place to escape to?” He half chuckles.
I nod, wondering where he’s going with this. “I remember.”
“Well, I told you I found this place last year, but this isn’t how I found it.” Jack looks around the room. “It was just a place with tired magnolia walls and a couple of bean bags. You said you liked that whole Nancy Meyers theme, right?”
A chill rakes up my spine. “Jack…you did this for me?”
“I mean, I had help from one of my assistants. I don’t know what the fuck a Nancy Meyers theme is.” He shrugs.
I laugh, shaking my head while my hands cover my mouth. “I can’t believe you remembered,” I say, surveying the room with a whole new perspective.
“For when you need to catch your breath.” He moves toward the bed, crouches, then pulls out a flat wooden case from underneath. He pops the catch. “For when you want to sketch.” I swear my eyes have never popped so far out of my head.
Inside are pencils, pens, and different sized and textured sheets of paper. My pulse quickens as he sets down the case then moves across to the nightstand and opens the top drawer. “Tea on the nightstand, wasn’t it?”
I move toward him, peeking into the drawer to see all kinds of herbal tea flavors in tiny individual wrappers. Holy crap, he remembered everything .
I look into the drawer one more time, shaking my head and grinning. “I can’t believe this. Is this real?”
He closes the distance, taking my hands. “Sara, I’ve never fallen this hard in my life. It doesn’t get more real than this. ”
Every worry or care I had melts away. I could listen to those words on an endless loop.
“It is real, isn’t it…” I say more to myself as the comforting realization settles in.
He squeezes my hands gently. “Meeting you back on the trails was surreal for more reasons than I can list. But when you were lying next to me in that tent, talking about your life, about the bagel place, and sketching, and your herbal tea thing,”—he draws in a sharp breath, his massive chest expanding—“it didn’t take me long to realize I wanted to be a part of all that. I knew when I left you at that tower our story wasn’t done. I knew fate wouldn’t be that cruel.”
I hold his gaze, pressing my lips together to distract myself from the lump that’s formed in my throat. The twinge in my body is still there, even though we’re not even having sex... And I wonder, if perhaps what I’m feeling has nothing to do with how much Jack physically turns me on. Maybe what I’m feeling runs much, much deeper.
“I want you to be part of all that too.” My voice comes out as a whisper. “I…just want you.”
He kisses my forehead, and laughs. “You have me, Sara. You’ve had me the whole time.”
When we eventually drag ourselves from the twinkling bubble of the guest house, Jack slips off to talk to a few old friends while I search for Francis near the lobby. He’s going to be so mad at me for not texting him.
Finally, I spy him. He’s swirling a martini glass as he strides over to me, aggressively dragging his teeth along a cocktail stick of plump, green olives. He chews violently before eyeing me from head to toe .
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Searched all over this creepy old place.”
“I’m so sorry, I was…” I scramble to construct a sentence that doesn’t involve Jack or the details of yet another earth-shattering orgasm.
“Save it, I know what you were doing.” Francis flicks invisible hair over his shoulder as he gives me the once over. “Or should I say who. ” Before I can protest, he’s using his free hand to smooth a section of my hair. “I mean you could’ve at least done something about your bed head before you re-joined the party.”
No point denying it now.
“Thanks,” I say. This new side of him, that appears to care about the preservation of my dignity, is somewhat endearing. “Hey, I wasn’t going to say anything, but I need to tell you something about Drew…” I sigh as the mention of his name is accompanied by a wave of nausea.
“I mean sure, but shouldn’t we be focusing on Kandi?” Francis snorts before his lips curl into a cunning grin. “You know she left earlier, which means she knows we’re onto her. Which also means that we were right and that we make an excellent detective duo. That sneaky ass bitch leaked those files to get you fired, but not on our watch.”
A foreign air surrounds us. It’s something new and unexplored and leaves me fumbling for a response. It’s taken a long time for Francis and I to have a conversation that doesn’t involve bickering or eye rolling or only doing something for the other because the benefits are purely selfish. Whatever this moment is, it feels pivotal. Like it could be the start of something not entirely awful.
“Kandi’s…innocent.” The word comes out like a sour sensation penetrating every tastebud. “I mean, it wasn’t her.”
Francis pinches the frame of his glasses, pulling them halfway down his nose to glare at me over the rim. “What is wrong with you? Did you just use Kandi and innocent in the same sentence?” Then an eyebrow arches into his hairline as he leans toward me and whispers from the corner of his mouth, “Isn’t it a little early for the psychedelics.”
“I’m not on drugs, Francis,” I say forcing back the urge to roll my eyes. “I’m trying to tell you that it was Drew who leaked the files, and Drew who took my promotion.” My shoulders sag. “Drew who could have cost me my job.”
Francis clutches his martini glass while placing his other hand at the side of his head, eyes pinned shut like he’s dealing with a two-day hangover. “He got the marketing promotion?” Then his bottom jaw juts out. “He’s a finance prick! How is this possible? I mean, why the hell would he do all this?”
I toss my arms in the air. “I wish I knew. But unfortunately, it’s the truth. He double screwed me.” The hurt climbs up my throat, but before it can morph into a public display of emotion, I swallow it down, and order myself to smile.
“That bastard.” Francis narrows his eyes as the truth settles in. “There’s proof, right? I mean once Walter and Vandenberg find out, he’s toast, right?”
“Here’s hoping.”
Francis juts out his hip, a shiny Prada brogue taps the marble floor. “You know, I never liked him.”
I snort violently. “Please, you check him out a dozen times a day. You put little hearts under his Instagram photos.”
Francis pouts. “I have a thing for sleeve tattoos. How was I to know he wasn’t the good type of bad boy?”
As hard as it is to do anything with my face apart from scowl, I manage to flash Francis a weak grin. “I should really confront him.”
“Confront who?”
We’re startled by a voice that comes from over my shoulder. A voice we immediately recognize that forces a squeal to shriek from both of us.
Francis grabs my wrist while his other arm jerks above his head, sending the contents of his glass soaring. A shower of martini rains down on us.
More shrieking.
I grab Francis’s sleeve as my other hand plants on my chest, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. An unpleasant sticky feeling forms beneath the bodice of the dress. It remains unclear whether it’s the martini or rapidly forming boob sweat triggered by the intrusion.
Drew.
In front of me at last. Only now he’s here, my mouth turns bone dry and general speech eludes me.
“Whoa there,” Drew says, grinning at Francis who’s still clutching onto my wrist. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. You need a Kleenex or something?”
Francis shakes his head, mouth still gaping. Drew’s eyes skitter from me to Francis, evaluating the situation and taking longer than normal to draw a conclusion. Finally, he clears his throat. “Anyway, I thought we could grab some drinks or go find that photographer, you know get some good shots for Walter,” he says chuckling.
“Seriously?” My hands fall to my sides and my fingers curl into my palm. “You’re going to pretend like everything’s fine?”
His face remains completely neutral. It’s now that I can see that lying is his best practiced skill .
He smiles, and God I want to punch him. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, that’s right,” I say, hearing the acid creep into my voice, like a single drop of venom entering the bloodstream. “I should have started with congratulations, on the new job.”
His reaction is like slow motion bullet dodging. He drags a hand down his face as he looks anywhere but at me. “Shit.”
Shit indeed.
“Ah man, this is not how I wanted you to find out.” He makes a prayer gesture with his hands and steps toward me. “Look, I had this entire speech prepared where I told you…I know how this looks, and trust me, I’m going to explain everything.”
A throat clears beside me. Francis gives me a nod, then narrows his eyes to pin holes as he glares at Drew. “I’ll be over there.” He steps back, not taking his eyes from Drew as he gives us some space to talk.
“Sara… I never meant to come between you and that job, it was never even on my radar. But the money and… Look I was going crazy doing the same thing every day, I needed a new challenge.” He steps toward me, and I have this huge urge to kick him right in the dick. I think he might sense it because for once, he applies sense, and retreats.
“Listen, my job doesn’t pay for my lifestyle. I did what I had to. Hey, you flew all the way to Maine to get people to take you seriously. We do what we have to, you get that right?”
I want to tell him that whatever he thinks he knows about that trip, is whatever I fed him in a moment of feeling exhausted and vulnerable. He doesn’t know anything about that trip.
“I get it,” I say, because I do. He nods, and before he can reply I cut in, “Which is why I’m not really mad about the job. Anyone had a right to interview. I probably could have gotten over that.” I shrug before my voice changes and my teeth grind together. “I guess I’m mad because of how low you had to stoop for a pay cheque.”
Drew scratches his chin. “You just said you weren’t mad about the job.” He shifts his weight slowly from one foot to another, like the simple movement is uncomfortable.
“I’m talking about the leaked figures. I know it was you.”
He flinches. Visibly recoils.
Then my voice strains and the venom drains from my system, because suddenly I’m not furious or angry or hellbent on causing a scene until everyone in the vicinity knows what he did. I just want the truth.
“So please, drop the act and just tell me. Why did you do it, Drew? Why, when I thought we were friends? The job, I get,” I say before the venom returns for one final dose. “But this…this is fucked up. Make it make sense.”
His face becomes something unfamiliar. Something sad yet ferocious. Something with too much energy bubbling under its surface. He raises his hands, raking his fingers along the sides of his slicked back hair. Then, he grabs my arm and tugs.
“What are you doing?” I protest as I’m dragged through crowds of people too absorbed in the party to notice the manhandling. I twist to find Francis who’s cutting through the swell of bodies to follow us. “You’re hurting me.” I try to free myself as I’m herded into a small alcove between the grand hall and the lobby where it’s just the two of us.
When he eventually releases me, he’s sweating and frantic. “I don’t have female friends, Sara.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I wince as I rub my arm. Francis appears beneath the archway, but I flash him a nod to signal I’m okay. He retreats, disappearing behind an enormous ivory pillar where I know he’ll be listening to every word.
“I thought,” Drew says, glancing at the archway, probably checking that we’re alone and nobody can hear him confess. “I thought you were into me. I literally got on a plane and came to find you. You gave me every sign you wanted me to follow you there.”
I gasp. “Are you kidding? I barely knew you.”
He folds his arms across his chest. “Whatever, you wanted me to chase you,” he says. “Everyone thought you were lying about meeting Vandenberg on the trails. But I know it’s true. I know you met him, spent the night with him, then forgot about me. He was on your mind the entire time. While I looked like an idiot in your hotel room. You chose him.”
He begins to pace in a circle. I’ve never seen him behave like this, it’s out of character. Or perhaps it isn’t at all…
A loose wire. That’s what Jack called him.
“Drew, it wasn’t like that,” I begin as the ringing bell of realization blares in my subconscious.
“He’s not the good guy you think he is, why do you keep choosing him?” His face is turning into a tomato, a lid about to blow. “This is exactly why I had to expose him. He’s not the hero everyone thinks he is. I needed you to see that. He’s arrogant, and you let him turn you into that too. There’s no other reason you’d turn me down. He did that to you, he made you think that you’re above being with me.”
Each word pulls me further from being present in this conversation and drags me into a spiral of rage because he doesn’t know the first thing about the type of man Jack is. I raise both hands to my temples, inhaling slowly to bring myself back to a state of semi-calm where I don’t burst into a ball of flames.
“Hold on.” I interrupt before he continues. “Did you do all this to get rid of him? Did you think it would mean that we’d have a chance?” I hear my voice dip, my patience almost gone.
Drew shrugs. The absurdity perhaps finally registering.
“Oh my god, you’re so consumed by the need to win. No, this isn’t about being robbed of our chance together, this is about ego. It’s gross. You don’t care about me, you don’t even know the first thing about me.”
“And he stole your job!” The high-pitched notes of Francis sail from behind the pillar.
“Right!” I nod profusely. “And you stole my job.”
“I had to take the job,” Drew says gravely. “I knew deep down that even if the figures got out, it wouldn’t change anything. Because as long as you had Vandenberg in your corner, you’d always get whatever you wanted.” His jaw clenches. “Not all of us can sleep our way to success.”
My insides feel like they’re being gouged out. My eyes feel tight, and my throat works to keep down the anger that bubbles from the inside.
“Yikes,” a flat voice comes from over my shoulder. I turn to find Justin and Reza standing behind me. Francis is tucked in behind them, grinning like he’s proud of himself. Justin turns to Drew. “That was a low blow, man.”
Drew leaps to attention, his entire demeanor shifting in a single heartbeat. He reaches toward Justin, taps him on the back a couple times and delivers one of his famous dazzling smiles. “Oh no,” he says, forcing out a false laugh. “I didn’t mean… You caught the wrong end of that.”
Reza draws in a long breath. “Actually, we’ve been here a while.” He nods as though giving thanks to Francis. “We heard everything.”
“Wait a minute,” Drew says, his eyes shifting from Justin and then to Reza. “Let’s just rewind a second. I think we’ve all had a little too much to drink, right?”
Reza shakes his head. “You lied to us. And you thought you could get away with it.” His mouth twists to one side. “Which means you think we’re idiots, and honestly, I take that pretty personally.”
Justin nods absently. He’s one hundred percent more intoxicated than the rest of us, but despite his floppy demeanor, he appears to be keeping up with how things are unfolding pretty well. Drew on the other hand, refuses to accept his fate and remains in an awkward state of denial.
Then, a presence moves in behind me and scents of warm pine and sweet leather cradle me to a calmer place. My shoulders relax as I peek to my left to find Jack beside me.
He doesn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth tugs upwards. A cruel half grin aimed at Drew. I squeal internally because it’s been too long since I saw that gorgeous, brooding side of him.
Drew scoffs. “Perfect.” He shifts uncomfortably again, sighing and groaning and generally behaving like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Why am I the only one who can see this guy for who he is? Can we focus on him, or better yet, let’s focus on you. ”
I cough. “Me?”
“I lied because Vandenberg is a jerk, I was trying to do everyone a favor by exposing him,” Drew says, rolling his shoulders.
Jack doesn’t react. Nobody reacts, except to exchange looks of pity. Drew watches me carefully, his mouth twisted into a smile void of any humor. “You lied to me, Walter, everyone, all because you thought it would get you a job that ended up in my lap anyway.”
The nauseous feeling returns, and I pray that he won’t continue, that he won’t do this here, not in front of Jack - whose hand begins to curl into a fist.
“The hike Sara,” Drew replies smugly, sending a pulse to drum rampantly against my temple. “The hike you lied about to make yourself look like you had your shit together when in reality, you were checked into a five fucking star spa. Letting everyone believe you were this brave adventurer.” He laughs, “But you even screwed that up, because this guy”—he flicks hateful eyes at Jack who looks like he’s about to lunge—“had to step in because you couldn’t even go one day without your dumb antics?—”
Something blurs in front of me before connecting with Drew’s face. Everyone gasps.
Drew’s hand flies to his cheek before he instinctively draws back a fist.
A half second later, Burke appears, standing in front of him like a wall of deadly, murderous calm, daring Drew to move another inch.
“Oh my god!” I shriek, looking at Francis , who’s holding his wrist like a pulsating cartoon hand lives on the end. “Are you okay?”
“Oh my god!” Francis says like he might slip into shock any second. “I slapped him.”
I nod a couple times, placing a hand on his back and rubbing small circles before the side of his head leans into my chest, and he continues to cradle his hand. “It’s okay sweetie, you’re okay.”
A moment later, we’ve moved on from the weird but also appreciated, slapping incident .
“So that’s it?” Drew looks to Justin and Reza as he’s dragged away. “After everything I’ve done for this company?”
“You tried to bring down the company’s biggest client.” Reza laughs, shaking his head. “It’s over buddy.”
Drew nods, a false and sinister grin spreading across his face. It’s so alien and unlike the Drew I’d idolized and held in such high regard all these years. “No problem.” He winks at Jack. “But I’ll see myself out.”
Jack sighs, leans toward Drew, and lowers his voice so that only the three of us can hear. “You’ve got a couple of lawsuits coming your way, Dawson. You’re in no position to negotiate. So, why don’t you let my buddy Burke see you out.” Drew doesn’t move but is clearly uncomfortable with Burke’s presence, being that he’s wearing one of the most sinister looking grins I’ve ever seen on another person. Seriously, where did Jack find this guy?
Jack lowers his voice further, “Or, I can do it. And Drew, you don’t want me,” Jack says grinning as he nods to Burke without breaking eye contact. “This motherfucker might be crazy, but I’ve got more reasons to hate you.”
Drew’s body tenses, his hand curling into a fist at his side, but for the first time this evening, he appears to consider the consequences his actions may bring. He rolls his shoulders, visibly attempting to shrug away the unease. Finally, he goes, allowing ‘crazy’, sinister grin Burke, to steer him into the lobby, closely followed by Justin and Reza.
“I’m going to make sure he goes quietly,” Jack says, keeping his face neutral as he leaves to follow the rest.
The crowd disperses quickly, putting their best efforts into making it look like they weren’t eavesdropping on the entire exchange .
I take a steadying breath as I look at Francis who’s since recovered from earlier. “Why’d you hit him?”
He pouts dramatically. “I don’t know.”
“I do.” I raise an eyebrow. “You like me.”
“I do not.” He folds his arms.
“You had my back,” I say smugly. “Jesus Francis, does this mean we’re friends?”
“No,” he snaps, stroking the palm of his hand. “A friend would have gotten me an ice pack and a fresh martini by now.”
I fight the grin that wants to spread across my face, biting my lip before turning serious again. “I guess you want to know if what Drew said is true?”
Francis sighs. “Oh, Sara. Did you really think people believed the hiking story? You were like a kid with chocolate ice cream smeared all over their face, insisting they didn’t devour the entire tub.”
My gaze drops to my feet, recalling how he’d told me before that he didn’t believe I went on the hike. I had no idea the entire office shared his attitude. “Why didn’t anyone say anything?”
Francis throws his arms up. “Because it was the first time you ever spoke about doing something like that. You were driving everyone so nuts with your no-food and extreme hygiene policies. You never wanted to come out, or even leave your house, and I know you were going through stuff, but you were so shut off, it kind of made it hard to talk to you. We had no choice but to get on board with the dumb hike. We were clinging to the possibility, tiny as it was, that you were actually attempting to change course.”
I stare blankly at a table with curling, golden legs, wondering how easy it would be to crawl underneath it and remain there for the rest of the night. Was I really that shut down?
“ And— ” Francis nudges me when I force my eyes shut, closing them so tightly my eyelids become rippling galaxies of stars and fuzzy shapes. “It looks like you did. Checking yourself into a luxury spa when you were meant to be hiking is diva behavior. It’s iconic.” He winks. “I don’t know what went on during that trip, but you were different when you came back. You chilled out, a little, loosened up a bit, and actually turned out to be kinda fun.”
I almost gasp at the compliment when a thought occurs to me.
“Is that why you sent Justin and Reza my pitch for the new app? Because you thought I was fun?” I eye him carefully.
He raises his chin. “How do you know it was me?”
I laugh. “Because Walter never would.”
Francis sighs. “Okay fine. I swiped your notes from your desk when I found out about the leaked documents. I was scared you might get fired.”
I’m speechless. He sent my idea to Justin and Reza to protect me.
“You…didn’t want me to get fired?”
He shrugs. “I haven’t enjoyed workplace squabbles with anyone as much as I have with you lately.” Then his eyes grow wide. “Oh, is it because you’re finally getting pounded?”
“You know, I think the not-so-fun Sara wants to make an appearance.” I grin.
“Oh hell no.” He cups his hand around his lips, “Quick, Vandenberg cock, aisle six.” Francis snaps his fingers and I’ve never fought so ferociously to cover someone’s mouth in my entire life.