Chapter 39
Garrett
I’ve never felt more ridiculous in my life. To be so furious, with rage churning my gut…while flip flops smack my feet and too-small rubber ducky swim trunks cup my junk. My fists are hammers, desperate for a nail, for anything to channel my fury into, but there is none. Not here. Not now.
I need to leave.
To move.
To be anywhere but here.
My anger is one hundred percent in proportion to the situation, and if Jordan so much as comes near me, I won’t be able to hold it in any longer.
I’ll ruin the way Angela sees me.
I used to think Jordan had a shred of human decency hiding under all that greed but now I know the truth. He’s a villain. An asshole. He’s everything the world doesn’t need.
Who acts like that? After everything we’ve been through and everything he’s done, he has the balls to look me in the eyes, man to man, and act like I'm the one in the wrong.
I push through the door into my room in time to see a notification light up my phone. I swipe it off the bedside table. Five texts and two missed calls, all from Branson. I scan them and bark laughter.
The last message? Branson telling me he was right to send Jordan down, seeing as I spent my day sitting by the pool instead of answering calls and working the deal.
Is Jordan feeding him minute by minute updates?
Fucker talked our boss out of trusting me and weaseled his way down here.
But why? Hasn’t he fucked with my head enough?
I toss the phone onto my bed. Pace to the bathroom and back to the door. What now? What fucking now?
Thunder rumbles. Closer now. The storm will be here any minute.
“I should have punched the guy. I should have punched him years ago and I should have punched him again today.” I strip out of my trunks and yank on some clothes—something better suited to going to war—then grab my phone, pull up Branson’s info, and stab the call button.
“What the hell?” I grit out when he answers.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“No. You can’t. You gave me forty-eight hours. It’s been twenty-four. I have a meeting in two hours with the family and signatures will hit the line.”
“Jordan will take that meeting.”
I pause in front of the full-length mirror and glare at my reflection. “Like hell he will.”
“You’d do well to remember who you’re talking to.”
“Branson. You have to listen—”
“No, you. You listen, Garrett. I’ve done nothing but accommodate you since your girlfriend died.
You wanted to move out of the city? Work remotely?
I didn’t like it. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.
But I did it for you. Your track record is strong enough that I thought, hey.
This guy’s going through a difficult time and he’s great at what he does so I’ll bend for him.
But it’s been years now and you’re still living in some shitty small town. Rarely in the office—”
“Being in the office doesn’t make me more effective.”
“Is this deal closed?”
“Yes.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I don’t have a signed copy of the contract.” Branson speaks as if reprimanding a child.
“It’s as good as closed. I just fucking told you we’re meeting tonight to finalize.”
“You mean Jordan’s meeting tonight to finalize.”
“No. No way. I brought the deal this far and I’ll be the one to bring it home.”
Branson scoffs. “This deal should have been over in a couple days. Max. You’ve been flitting around down there for how long now and all you can say is you’re meeting tonight.
I’ve been as patient with you as I’m willing to be.
You’re done, Cooper. Effective immediately.
Anything dealing with Vision Enterprise and the Hutton Hotel belongs to Jordan. ”
I pound a fist into the wall. “He’ll gut the hotel.”
“Good! Great!” Branson laughs. “He can turn it into a theme park for all I care. But let me reiterate. Anything dealing with that hotel and Vision Enterprise will go through Jordan. If I hear you’re anywhere near that meeting, you’re fired. Are we clear?”
I close my eyes and rub my temples. “Crystal.”
The line goes dead, and I hurl my phone onto the bed.
Fucking money. It all comes down to money.
Branson doesn’t care about saving the hotel.
He never has. He’s no better than anyone else, skewing, twisting, manipulating things to increase his earnings.
To improve his life. Nothing is about what’s best for society anymore.
About what’s best for other people. Everyone’s out for themselves.
Right now. Short term. It’s a race to the bottom and I want off this fucking ride.
A knock at the door. Cursing, I cross the room and haul it open.
Angela stands there, hair whipping around her face as the wind howls. “Everything okay in here?” she asks, gathering her red locks into her fist. “I waited, but then got worried…”
Her eyes are tight. Her face pinched. She’s never seen me like this, and I hate that she’s looking at me like a feral animal.
Jordan’s hand on her arm…
His eyes on her body…
I turn and pace toward the bed, shaking with rage. “No. Nothing is okay.”
Angela steps inside, shutting out the wind as she closes the door. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Nope.” I glare at the floor. I don’t want her to see me like this and there’s no way I can talk about it without letting my emotions fly. If she’d just stayed by the car like I told her to, I’d have gotten myself under control before I came back out. She wouldn’t know this version of me.
This angry, snappy asshole who needs an outlet for his fury.
“Okay, well, if you still want to leave, the weather’s getting bad, and we should probably—”
“What, Angel?” I bark. “We should probably…what?”
She jumps. Frowns. Lets a long breath out through her nose. “Don’t do that, Garrett. Don’t push me away because you’re mad at someone else.”
She’s right. Of course she is. I know that. I feel it. But I’m so fucking upset I can only grunt a response. I care about her, and I swore that would never happen again. With anyone. Especially someone connected to work.
“What’s going on, Bucko?” My Angel’s voice is soft, concerned. It juxtaposes the ridiculous nickname she gave me, and I let out a long, slow sigh.
“They took me off the deal. I dragged my fucking feet, messing around with you and now he’s down here.” I stab a finger at the wall, face screwed up, red, tight. “If I step foot in the meeting I set up, I lose my job.”
Not that I need the money, but work is all I have. Who am I if I’m not sealing a deal?
“Garrett. Come on.” Angela’s still soft. Soothing. “It’s not that big of a deal for Mr. Clement to finish this up.”
I whirl. “Not that big of a deal? Not that big of a deal?” My voice rises and I set my jaw to keep from launching a double-barrel shotgun of animosity her way. That assault is aimed at Jordan, and she doesn’t deserve to get caught in the crossfire.
She doesn’t.
But I’m losing my ability to control it.
My anger is proportionate to the situation.
Angela steps closer, holding out her hands. “The deal is still gonna happen, and that’s good, right? You’re the one who got us this far and I’ll make sure your company knows you’re the only reason this is happening.”
I scoff, shaking my head and chewing my lip. Getting credit doesn’t even register on my give-a-fuck radar.
“And,” Angela continues, as wind rattles the window, “if this other guy is connected to the hotel instead of you, maybe that’s a good thing. You know, for us.”
Harsh laughter barks up my throat. “You are so sweet and na?ve, my Angel. There’s nothing good about Jordan being anywhere near here.
Near you.” I turn away, rubbing a hand over my mouth to physically shut myself up.
“Those ‘issues with the contract’ he mentioned? They will not work out in your favor. He will screw you worse than the guys before us.” I rattle off all the ways Jordan could ruin her life.
Buried clauses that list the hotel as leverage or give too many shares to Vision Enterprise, leaving them in control of her family’s future.
“We won’t sign until we’ve gone through everything and the lawyers have had a look.”
She sounds so confident, so sure I’m overreacting.
I shove my hands in my pockets and press my lips together.
I should tell her. I should share the whole fucking story of what happened between Jordan and Elizabeth.
As much as I hate talking about it, as much as the very idea of opening that massive wound scares the shit out of me, I should tell her—
“Garrett.” Angela puts a hand on my arm. “I care about you. I…I think…” She takes a deep breath, her eyes bouncing across my face. “No. I don’t think; I know. I’m developing feelings for you—”
“Now?” The word drops into the conversation like a stone. “You’re going to start this conversation now. In your mind, this is the best time to talk about…about feelings?”
Can’t she see the water’s rising around me? It’s at my fucking throat and it’s still pouring in? How am I supposed to have this conversation when I can barely think?
Angela’s brows furrow. “If not now, when? After you’ve gone home?”
“Any other time would be better than now.” I stalk away, images of her laughing with Jordan blurring with memories of Elizabeth doing the same. “Never would be better than now.”
My Angel’s face falls. “Okay. Wow. There it is then.”
“Shit.” I drag a hand down my face. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…I’m… Can we get out of here? I have too much energy to stay in one place.”
She nods, confusion swimming in those beautiful blues. “Come on, then,” she says, opening the door with a sad smile. “Let’s get out of here.”
Wind slashes at our clothing. Thick drops of rain splatter on the pavement. Lightning streaks and thunder rumbles and the sky is black, black, black.
This is a bad time to be on the road.
We stop in front of her car and she heads for the driver’s door, but I catch her wrist. “Let me drive.”
“Garrett…I’m perfectly capable…”
“I know. But the weather’s bad and I…” Twisted metal. Broken glass. The squeal of tires. “I’d feel better if I was in control.”
With a shake of her head, Angela hands over the keys, then crosses in front of the car and lowers herself into the passenger seat. Her jaw is tense. Her face drawn. I’m being an absolute asshole and she’s so understanding…
I don’t deserve her.
Or rather, she doesn’t deserve me.
I scoot back the driver’s seat and adjust the mirrors, then let out a long breath as round after round of lightning illuminates the sky.
“I didn’t mean anything bad. Back there.” My throat tightens, but I force the words out anyway. “When you brought up your feelings…”
“It’s fine.” Angela chews her lip. Won’t look at me. “You’re right. It was a bad time to talk about it.”
I nod, struggling with more emotion than I can name, then bring the car to life and back out of the spot.