Chapter 44
I stood at the outside of a dive bar a few days before, contemplating the absurdity of it all.
I was going back to Layla Taylor just a few long weeks after telling her to fuck off and calling her the devil.
Maybe things had gotten better between us, but that was only because we were humans, not sociopathic assholes.
We could make peace, especially as it was coming to light that she was not as culpable in this spot as it might have seemed at first.
Still… us hanging out not because I was feeling sorry and empathy for her but because I needed help from her felt… ironic, perhaps? Maybe not ironic, but it certainly had come full circle.
She had come into my life because her family’s business needed investment money, and she had set something up with an unusual source—an intern at a major company, no matter how big of an intern I was.
Now, I needed her into my life because our family “business” needed advice, and I was getting it from a girl just two years older than me, not twenty or forty years older than me.
She’d used me before, and now I was using her for help. Strange, wasn’t it, how life could seem so symmetrical sometimes.
By now, I was sure that Edwin was tracking me and Morgan, but the fear of it had started to wear off. I had become less paranoid of it and more just accepting of it, as much an annoyance in my life as taxis honking down the street. Annoying, but easily tuned out.
What was Edwin going to uncover? He surely knew even before the MCH situation that Layla and I had fucked—actually, he probably used that very knowledge with Craig Taylor to get a deal.
By now, he probably knew Claire and I were fucking, and it sucked that Rising Sun was experiencing difficulties, but so long as we did not lose out on Virtual Realty, our portfolio could afford a small loss in relation to the potential unicorn that Virtual Realty could become.
In some ways, I wanted Edwin to track me.
I wanted him to know that I was having the time of my life, talking to beautiful women and enjoying their company, and he was just an old fucking aloof man who probably couldn’t even get an erection.
And when Sarah Hill came to town—forget it.
I gave brief thought to recording the whole thing and sending it to the old man with the title “What Edwin Hunt will need fifty Viagra pills to accomplish.”
I could be a dick, but who fucking deserved it more than that asshole?
I glanced down the street after my short laugh just quickly enough to see Layla crossing over.
She looked a little better than before, although that still wasn’t what she was before.
Granted, she’d never looked the picture of collected and stress-free, but still.
She wore nice white heels, a blue work dress, black pants, and a coat for the cold.
“Hi Chance,” she said.
No fancy introduction, no charming words, but also no begging or hoping for me to turn around and come to her.
“Hey hey,” I said, throwing my arms out.
When she hugged me, I was surprised to find that the hug was lasting longer than expected… because I didn’t want to let her go.
How was I suddenly feeling so protective of the girls I cared about?
I was never this way before—the experience of Sarah had turned me cold, and I had thought the experience of Layla had turned me even colder, but something had happened that made me extraordinarily defensive and cautious of Claire and Layla.
Maybe it was the situation. Maybe Edwin being so predatory to me and those I cared about turned me into a mama bear, ready to rip to shreds anyone who dared fuck with either of them. That might have made me a little too overbearing, but the behavior of both of them suggested anything but.
When I looked into Layla’s eyes, I could not help but say that she was very attractive. But it was a different type of attractive than before. It wasn’t so lustful, it wasn’t even objective like it had been since our fight.
It was…
I tried to dismiss the thought as she started speaking. I never answered what it was, but the words nevertheless lingered, not so easily dismissed as I had hoped.
“Sounds like life has gotten a little crazy for you, huh?” she said.
“Oh, I’ve only given you the movie trailer version,” I said with a wink. “But let’s head inside. I prefer the privacy and intimacy of a place like this.”
“Are you going to pick a booth again?”
It took me a couple of seconds to get what she was referencing. When I did, I just playfully smacked her arm, drawing a laugh from her.
If this was flirting with someone I shouldn’t have, I sure didn’t care. In fact, I daresay it felt kind of good.
Though not the same bar as where the legendary handjob had taken place, it still shared many of the same features, from the dark light to the soft, live music to, yes, the booths in the corner. Layla looked delighted, grabbed my arm, and pulled me to the booth.
“We gotta get drinks first, you know,” I said. “I can’t just come to a bar and not drink. It would be like going to a zoo and not seeing any animals. Whatcha want?”
“Margarita, keep it simple.”
Easy enough , I thought as I went to the bar, prepped to order that and a gin and soda.
Around me, there was a decent crowd—not packed, certainly, but more than half the tables and booths were occupied.
This would make it harder than expected to keep track of anyone watching me, but then again, I had said I didn’t give a shit anymore.
Maybe I didn’t as much as I wanted to believe, but I genuinely wasn’t as affected by it as much as before.
I returned with the drinks, clinked glasses, and took a gulp.
“You know, it sure doesn’t seem like a shock that our families wound up partnering for business based on Craig and Edwin,” I said. “Both led by massive assholes, both led by people willing to manipulate the younger ones. What was it like growing up in your household?”
“You wouldn’t want to know,” Layla said, trying to dismiss me. She tried, but I knew how to play that game.
“Try me,” I said. “Let me go first, so you don’t feel bad. I don’t know either of my biological parents. I know my mother’s name, but I’ve never bothered to look her up. I don’t…”
I almost said I didn’t trust women to love me, but given the history of my relationship with Layla, I decided some things were better left unsaid.
“I just don’t have the desire. In any case, Edwin Hunt saw me as nothing more than a cat in the house.
I had to be fed, bathed, and cared for, but otherwise, there was nothing provided for me.
My adoptive mother, Melanie, she cared for me, but she only had so much say.
Every day, I fear that I’m about to get screwed over because I dared to start something that went against the plan Edwin had for me.
But even before then, I was nothing to Edwin Hunt.
The fact that he offered me a job while at Burnson Investments struck me as nothing more than a subtle move to better position himself. ”
“Really seems like maybe John Burnson did something to Edwin and Craig to get on their bad sides, huh?”
It felt like a throwaway comment, but there was nothing small about it to me. It seemed to make much more sense now, in fact—maybe I had also gotten caught in the crossfire.
But if so… why had Layla apologized to me and said I had never understood anything on that date? It seemed like maybe I had gotten caught in the crossfire of a possible war between Burnson, Hunt, and Taylor, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t deliberately brought in.
“Maybe,” I said. “But anyways, you know my life. Your turn.”
“My turn,” Layla said, drawing a long sigh. “OK, my turn.”
I was surprised at the discomfort she showed. Part of me thought about telling her she didn’t have to say anything, but I was honestly too curious to turn that off. I had to know where this was going.
“My father died when I was young, you know that,” she said. “What you didn’t know was that my mother never really wanted me.”
The words felt like a stone thrown at my face. Everything I had ever thought about Layla was slowly dissipating under the weight of her true life.
“My mother was a high-level doctor who was going to be one of the best in the New York area. She didn’t want to have kids, but my father did.
God knows how they ever wound up married.
In any case, I think my father was sick even before I was born, leaving me to believe he wanted to have a biological legacy, my mother’s feelings be damned. So…”
She sighed. She had to collect herself; she didn’t appear on the verge of tears, but I sure knew better than to do anything other than shut the hell up.
“My mother didn’t want me. My uncle, Craig, the very one, he was my mother’s brother, and I already told you he was a sociopath.
He has never had a wife or a long-term relationship, probably with good reason; anyone who would marry someone as successful as him knows to run before he can rope them in.
He saw his sister, my mother, and saw how men flocked after her.
He knew that I would likely turn out the same way.
So he offered to take me under his wing so that mom could go back to being a doctor. Sounds nice. But…”
Again, I just bit my tongue. I would not speak until it was blatantly obvious Layla would finish.
“He just used me to attract pervy clients. He used me. He… yeah, I’m sorry. That’s all I can say right now.”
“Say no more, Layla,” I said.
I took a sip of my drink, feeling terribly sorry for the life Layla had had. It didn’t excuse what she had done to me, but it explained so much of her. It made me…