27. Caleb
Chapter 27
Caleb
“ K nock, knock.”
I look up from my desk, my vision blurry from hours of staring at an acquisitions report.
Corm stands in the doorway, holding whiskey and two tumblers. My jaw ticks. We’ve reached an unspoken truce. As much as I hate to admit it, he brings a lot to the table. A lot of useful insight and strategy, aside from his assholeness.
I lean back in my chair, stretching my arms over my head. “What do you need?”
“I need to take a month off and lie on the beach.” He saunters in without invitation and sits across from me.
“Fuck off, Corm, I don’t have time for your daydreaming. ”
This is the first time in over a month since I started here that he’s come to my office. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to bow and chitchat.
For one, I may trust and respect his business instincts, but otherwise I don’t trust the air he breathes.
For two, I want to finish this report before Celeste finishes her show tonight, pick her up, and fuck her six ways to Sunday.
And then take her to breakfast and listen to everything she has to say about her friend’s bistro, her manager being an asshole—I need to do something about that—or her colleague’s child, the applause she got the night before.
Frankly, at this point she could recite her shopping list and I’d listen with reverence.
And therein lies my biggest problem. I’m infatuated with my wife.
A concept that is highly inconvenient. I’ve been telling myself to back off, but her spell on me is irresistible.
Corm doesn’t seem perturbed by my lack of welcome. He pours me an inch of his expensive whiskey and another glass for himself. The liquid sloshes languidly into the polished glasses.
“Cheers.” He passes me the tumbler.
I don’t particularly want to drink with him, but I’m not going to pass on his Macallan 1926. It must be a special occasion since he opened this bottle again. “What are we celebrating? You learn how to masturbate?”
“Ha, ha, I can jerk off just fine, but I don’t need to. Plenty of women out there to take care of me. How’s married life?”
I take a sip of the amber liquid. “What do you want, Quinn?” The idea of talking about Celeste with this douchebag makes the hair on my nape stand on end.
“It’s been a month since you joined us, and next week we’re announcing not one, but three mergers. I wanted to acknowledge that having you join us was a brilliant decision.”
Is he taking the credit now? “You mean blackmailing me into it?”
I’ve been working a lot since I signed the partnership, but I’ve been enjoying every moment. I’m not telling him that though.
“Semantics. You’re here, and I just wanted to acknowledge your contribution.” He swirls his whiskey in his glass.
“Careful there, or I might think you like me.”
“Let’s not get carried away.” He raises his glass and I snort.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I enjoy my role at Merged. ”
He tips his glass to me and then takes a sip. “I know we didn’t start off on the right foot, but I respect that you put our differences aside and made a smart business decision.”
I swallow a quip, because if I got to know this man a bit better in the last few weeks, I know this is a rare moment of honesty with a dose of humility on his part, and I’m going to enjoy it along with my Macallan.
“My wife told me how cutthroat the entertainment world is, but at the end of the day, everyone pulls together for the best performance.”
“I guess I have your missus to thank.” He stands up.
“Don’t go anywhere near her,” I warn.
“Protective. I never took you for the marrying kind.”
He isn’t wrong, and I’m not really married. “You don’t know me, Corm. And as much as I appreciate the celebratory drink, I’m not interested in bonding with you over my private life.”
He chuckles. “Fair enough. I promise not to charm her when I finally meet her. Xander and Declan are across the street at the bar. We were hoping you’d join us.”
I check my watch. Goddammit, Celeste is probably on her way home already. I text Peter, who confirms it.
If I go home now, I won’t be able to avoid her bed. Or mine, but either way there would be me in a bed with a woman.
First, that kind of sex feels boring.
Second, if we were in her room, would she expect me to stay? And if we were in mine, I wouldn’t be able to send her away.
That would certainly hurt her. And I promised her, and myself, not to make her feel used ever again.
“I need fifteen minutes to finish this report. I’ll join you then.”
Bonding with my partners is overdue anyway, especially after our rocky beginning. And it would solve my Celeste dilemma.
Somehow, due to the sheer demand of our schedules and a bit of careful planning on my side, we’ve avoided evenings at home together, essentially solving my little problem.
But I was looking forward to seeing her tonight. Fuck. I finish my whiskey, not savoring it anymore. If there was someone I wanted to celebrate my one-month anniversary with, it was Celeste.
So why do I fear her in my bed so much? Waking up beside her might not be such a bad thing. Not that I’d know, since I’ve never done that.
But having her in my bed, as opposed to in places where we could get discovered, might bring the novelty and excitement factor down a notch .
It would be a sure way to get bored, and fuck, I don’t want that.
Goddammit, this is such uncharted territory.
“Are you joining us?” Roxy pops her head into my door. “You know they accepted you already, but it wouldn’t hurt to join the fun sometimes.”
I slam the laptop closed and swipe my jacket from the back of my chair. My phone vibrates on the table, and I glance at Roxy. “I have to take this, but I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Her heels echo down the hallway as I pick up my glass and my cell. Walking to the wall of windows, I hit the green icon.
“Has Quinn screwed you over already?” Finn asks, a hint of gloating in his voice.
“Fuck you. You’d be the last one to find out.”
We might tease each other ruthlessly, but it’s always good to hear from him.
“Just call me to bail you out after you kill him.”
“Is there a reason you’re calling, or you just didn’t get your dose of harassment today?”
He laughs. “I’m sure you miss it, bro. I’m on my way home, and I almost stopped at your old office to chat with you.”
“Aw, you miss me.” I grin, looking at the flickering lights of the city, my old office just a distant memory. I got settled here fast. The thrill of something new and different hasn’t waned yet.
“No, I went to make sure you hadn’t come back crying.”
I snicker. “How are you, asshole?”
“I’m good. I’m taking a week off, believe it or not.”
“Did Paris threaten to leave you?”
“She might have made a few valid points, and I realized a week won’t shatter the company.”
“That’s good. At your age, you need to take it easy.”
“I’m only three years older than you. How are things over there?”
“Decent.”
“That’s a raving endorsement.”
“You’ll hear some announcements soon, and you’ll see all is good. Can I ask you something?”
“Do I think you made a mistake partnering with Quinn? Yes.”
“Fuck you, Finn.” I don’t mind his razzing. We grew up like that, and I know it’s his weird way of making sure all is okay.
“Okay, okay, talk to me.”
“You’ve been with Paris for almost two years now…” Fuck. I don’t even know what I want to ask.
“Good math skills, Cal. Are you angling for relationship advice? Fuck, are you involved with Celeste? Have you— ”
When I say nothing, he continues, “I told you not to hurt her! Paris will cut off your balls. And probably Saar too.”
“Who said I fucked it up? I just… I don’t know. Do you ever get bored being with the same woman?”
“Do I look bored to you?” He doesn’t even have to think about his answer. “The past two years have been the best years of my life, and I’m a sleep-deprived father of a toddler. Every day is a new adventure. Even on the days when we just nap on the sofa, exhausted.”
I play with my empty glass, considering his words. Can his situation apply to me and Celeste? Finn is in love with his wife. I’m trying to have a relationship with a set expiration.
“Are you catching feelings?” Finn asks.
“I just don’t want things to get awkward between us, since we’re stuck together for three years.”
The words sound like a repeated mantra I subscribed to a while ago, but they feel outdated now.
Music seeps into the darkness, pulling my mind into painful reality. I squint at my watch. Ten o’clock.
I sit up, my dark silky cover sliding to the floor. I haven’t slept this long in weeks. Also, I haven’t been this hungover in… months. When did I stop partying ?
The bonding with my partners last night didn’t go as expected. I thought I’d have one obligatory drink. Instead, I came home at three in the morning after drinking gallons and playing pool.
Even Declan loosened up, and he’s definitely the most reserved of us. It was a much-needed team-building exercise, but I’m fucking paying the price now.
I get up, pull on a T-shirt and take two Tylenol in the bathroom before I wander out of my bedroom.
The music is coming from the room across the landing. Celeste must be practicing. As I approach, giggles surprise me. Shit, I forgot this is Mia’s weekend.
Squinting to subdue the headache pounding behind my eyes, I peek in, and Mia freezes partway through a move.
“I forgot you were here today,” I growl, the headache talking.
Mia flinches.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Good morning to you too, Mr. Grouch.” Celeste glares at me.
And just like that, I won the biggest asshole award. “I didn’t mean—” I step inside, and Mia instinctively steps back.
Her reaction is like a punch to my gut. What was I expecting? That I lash out and don’t get what I deserve? But she doesn’t deserve any of this.
I run my hand over my face, hoping to wipe away my hangover. “Sorry, let’s start again. I’m going to have a shower and find my personality, and then we can go for brunch. Okay?”
They both glare at me, Celeste probably considering how to claw my eyes out, and Mia hoping to be anywhere else but in a room with me.
I don’t know if I look as bad as I feel, but my look must be pity-inducing enough that Mia finally nods.
Well, good morning, everyone.
I trudge back to my room. The painkillers kick in by the time I finish showering, and I feel marginally better.
I don’t find them in the studio, so I knock gently on Mia’s door. Soft voices direct me toward Celeste’s room.
Since her door is slightly ajar, I see them in front of the vanity mirror. Celeste is braiding Mia’s hair. My wife is taking care of my daughter.
The image hits me with a feeling that is warm and sappy, but not unwelcome. I stop to watch them for a beat.
“You have a great sense of rhythm, and with a little practice, you’d be really good. You already are, but practice makes perfect.” Celeste squeezes Mia’s shoulders.
“Do you think Cal is upset I paid for my dancing classes and rejoined the crew?”
What? Fuck. A part of me understands this is a private moment between them, but I can’t walk away now. Neither can I step in and tell her I don’t mind at all.
And then an irrational sensation crawls up my spine, akin to envy or jealousy. The two of them have grown closer, while I’m standing on the sidelines, avoiding this kind of intimate moment.
With my wife. Or with my daughter.
What’s the worst that could happen?
“Of course not, Mia.” Celeste shakes her head.
“Just… he hasn’t been around much, so I thought he was mad at me.”
I stumble, propping my hand against the wall. I’m worse than my father. He at least gave me negative attention.
I’m running away from this responsibility. And there is a young girl who’s the victim of my actions.
“Oh, Mia, he’s starting a new company, and that takes a lot of work. His current absence has nothing to do with you. I promise.” Celeste bends and gives her a hug from behind, the two of them a picture of beauty and affection.
I lean against the wall and close my eyes. Within all the lows I’ve experienced in my life, this single moment is the worst.
The two of them deserve so much better. And without another moment of hesitation, I bolt.