37. Callie
Chapter thirty-seven
The biology between an ant and a woman should be studied. I truly don’t understand how I can carry five tile sample boxes in one arm, while opening the boot of my car with the other. Sheer determination fuelled by the fact that I refuse to do this in more than one trip.
My arm is being crushed, I’m still mad at that top box for sliding into my chin when I was reaching for my keys, but honestly, this is peak coordination here, and no one’s even around to commend me.
Good job, Callie. You deserve a cookie and an orgasm later.
Why, thank you, Callie, don’t mind if I do.
I chuckle to myself as I start setting the boxes one by one into the boot with absolutely no finesse at all.
Mason and Beth are at a meeting for their family’s mining company.
They don’t actively contribute to the day-to-day operations, but they’re all shareholders and attend annual meetings—very formal meetings.
My glasses fogged up when Mason came out of his office wearing a full suit.
Dark grey pants clinging to his thighs, and a matching vest that made his chest look full and broad with the way it tapered in at his waist. A pale blue shirt underneath hugged his biceps, and I think my exact response was hrijkdfhngnpf.
It wasn’t so much words as it was a full body offering to whatever good fortune put this man in my life.
Setting the last box down, I close the boot only for my heart to slam against my chest when my father’s eyes collide with mine.
It’s been at least six months since I last saw him. He put himself out to be at home shortly before I moved to the city, not staying more than a week before claiming he had to go back to work. I wonder how far the depths of his deception go.
He looks like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes flicking between me and the woman standing beside him, one arm looped through his.
My instincts tell me she’s just as much in the dark as my mother was.
“Is there a single part of you that gives a shit about anyone other than yourself?” I call, my fingers tightening around the keys in my hand.
The woman looks between me and Dad, her light eyes wide as she reads the scene unfolding.
“Does she know?” I will the fragility in my words to hold steady. I will not break in front of him.
“Is she talking to us?” My stomach aches knowing this woman is undoubtedly about to be hit with the same kind of hurt my mother has slowly clawed herself out of.
“Come on, Dad. For once in your life, tell someone the truth.” He continues to stare at me as the colour drains from the woman’s face.
“Dad?” she asks.
My father’s face changes from cautious to mollified as he turns to her.
“I’ve never seen this girl.” He rubs an arm soothingly up and down her arm as tears sting my eyes.
I could pretend I wasn’t hurt over my father’s rejection when it felt like my decision to deny our relationship, but having him completely deny my existence from his world crushes me in a way I’m not prepared for, in a way I hate.
I step onto the footpath, stopping right in front of him, but talking to the woman.
“My name’s Callista Moore. I’ve been his daughter for twenty-three years, a relationship I refuse to acknowledge any further.
My mother, Elena Moore, has loved him for nearly thirty years.
They also have a son together. We were under the impression he worked on an oil rig, which kept him offshore most of the time.
If you’re learning any of this for the first time right now, I’m truly sorry. ”
“Callie—”
I hold my hand up, stopping my father from saying whatever lies and excuses he was ready to unleash.
“You disgust me,” I spit, finally meeting his hazel eyes, thankful mine match the blue of my mother’s. “In case it wasn’t clear, I want nothing to do with you. And stay the fuck away from my mum.”
A loud slap is the only other sound I hear as my feet hit the pavement, and I get into my car.
I manage to keep my tears at bay for the entire drive back to the office, parking in the underground lot so I can take the elevator straight up to the third floor, my chest feeling like it’s on the brink of caving in the entire ride up.
My skin is crawling, lungs aching as I struggle to breathe. I pace my office, not knowing whether I want to sit, stand, or scream.
Mason’s office door is open, but he’s not back yet. I need him. Tears roll down my cheeks as I walk into his office, surrounded by the comfort of the mint and patchouli scent he left behind.
It’s not until I drop into his chair, elbows resting on the desk, that I finally let the hurt roam free. My father. His lies and betrayal. The utter rejection is not worth my time, but I can’t help but mourn what I never had. Why could he never love me? Love my mother?
I hate him. Hate the power his manipulation commands. I should be mad enough to be immune to the grief. He’s never given a shit about me or my family. He was never truly a part of us, but that doesn’t stop the agony.
My jaw aches from the intensity with which it trembles. I wipe away the tears, nausea rising in my throat from the onslaught of emotions.
Mason’s emails are open on the screen beside me. I gloss over them, looking for nothing in particular except something else to read so my mind can have a reprieve from its own spiralling thoughts.
An email at the bottom has a cold chill snaking up my spine as my eyes lock on the name in the preview. It’s from Mason’s lawyer, Anna, talking about my ex. Maybe he ended up reaching out to her when Derek was still stalling on signing the paperwork.
I double click the email, bringing it up on the screen as my eyes scan the contents.
Two million dollars.
No contact.
Transfer complete.
I scroll through the conversation thread where Anna talks about meeting with Derek to propose a separate arrangement with Mason.
One in which my ex is given a single payout to leave Navie and me in peace.
There’s another document where Derek has signed an NDA to never speak about the agreement between them, or he’ll have to repay the two million dollars.
If he reaches out to myself or Navie, he also has to repay the two million dollars.
What the fuck is this? Did Derek go behind my back to Mason, or did Mason seek him out? Is this the only reason Derek signed our paperwork, because Mason made the problem go away?
My breath comes in harder, and my heart pounds against my chest until it hurts. I read the email again.
It’s not like I want to deal with Derek in any way, but I won’t stop Navie from reaching out in the future if she wants to. There’s nothing that states he’s not allowed to respond to her; he’s just not allowed to initiate contact.
I slump back in the chair, not knowing if I should hold my head or my heart as I process everything.
I hate the thought of Mason stepping in. Did he think I couldn’t handle it on my own? And Derek doesn’t deserve money. He fucking took a payout in exchange for completely erasing his daughter from his life.
What if Mason and I don’t work out, and he’s just forked over two million dollars to make my ex go away? What if he thinks I’m not worth it? What if my love for Mason slowly turns into obligation?
It’s why my mother never left my father, even when she knew he didn’t make her happy. He didn’t even need money to leave us behind. We were never good enough from the start.
“Callie?” Mason rushes around the desk, dropping to his knees as he turns the chair so I’m facing him. “What’s wrong?”
“You gave him money?” Mason’s face morphs from concern to guilt. “You made him agree to never speak to his daughter?”
“Not unless she reaches out first.” Mason shakes his head, his cheeks breaking out in an angry flush.
“That wasn’t your decision to make.” I try to stay strong, but the evidence of my hurt is loud and clear.
Mason takes a deep, calming breath as he reaches for my hand. “I-I did it to protect you.”
“I had it under control.” The air is so thick with tension, I jump when Mason’s phone starts ringing. He silences it then places it face down on the desk. “I didn’t ask you to step in and save me.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll always protect you.” His voice wobbles. “Why didn’t you tell me he tried to blackmail you?”
A cold sweat runs over my body. “I was going to … when it was over.”
He phone rings again.
“How did you find out?”
He declines the call then slams the phone down. “I heard the two of you on the street. The other week, outside the office.”
I stand up from his chair, rounding it and leaning my hands on the backrest, like a divider between us.
“Did you hear me tell him he could fuck off? From the beginning I told you I wanted to handle it properly, in a way that actually protects Navie from a deadbeat dad, like the way I wish my mother had.”
Mason stands up straight, hands on his hips. “I didn’t want you wondering for the rest of our lives if he was going to keep showing up behind every corner.”
“You should have spoken to me!” I yell, and his phone rings yet again.
“So should you!” His chest heaves, and his jaw clenches as he silences the phone once more.
My lip quivers, the pain of my father’s rejection still fresh as it mingles with the evidence of Derek’s dismissal of Navie. I feel like a failure for getting myself into this mess to begin with. “I don’t need to consult you on decisions about my daughter.”
“Well, I didn’t do it for you,” he says with furious conviction.
“I was selfish, and I did it for me. I wasn’t going to let that arsehole stand in the way when I finally found what I was always looking for, when I finally had everything I ever wanted.
And I’m not sorry because I love you! I love Navie.
And you just need to get used to me looking after you, cos it’s all I want to do. ”
“Mason!” Beth runs into the office panting, then pauses when she notices the charged energy radiating between us. “Grams,” she says, holding up her phone.
“Did something happen?” Mason scrambles to pick up his phone from the desk.
“Not to her,” Beth says slowly. “It’s… you.”
The colour drains from Mason’s face as he stares down at his phone, and Beth looks at me with sympathy.
I reach for my phone, typing Mason’s name into the search bar, trying to find what’s happened, and I don’t have to look for long to figure it out. The headline flashes like a neon warning sign.
Mason Heart. Billionaire. Business Owner. Porn Star.
Mason’s face is recognisable in the grainy images linked to different articles. The fourth one listed is what I click on, the one with the photo of the blonde woman from the tennis club.
“You said nothing happened with her.” I’m not sure if Mason heard me, considering I barely heard the words myself.
More photos fill the article, and the final dagger in my heart is one of Mason leaning over the girl’s shoulder, kissing her neck with the tennis club’s sign in the background.
“I’m the only one corrupting you in dressing rooms, huh? ”
Mason finally turns around. It’s even harder to breathe as I take in the look on his face. Hurt. Fear. Disappointment.
“You lied.”
“I-I… don’t remember anything happening in the dressing room.”
I look down at my phone again, seeing the corner of the mirror and the top of a curtain rail.
“You slept with her at least once, since all these photos are in different places, but she wasn’t good enough to remember? Are you lying to me again, thinking that will help? After what my dad did, you think lying about another woman doesn’t hurt?”
“It’s not like I cheated.” He holds up his phone. “These are like two years old, and I never gave permission for photos to be taken!”
“We don’t have to give each other a play-by-play of our past, but I asked you, and you lied.”
“I was never ashamed of my past, I just didn’t want it ruining my future.” His chest heaves. “I didn’t want your feelings hurt, not when they’re the only thing that matters to me.”
My hand shakes—maybe it’s the cracking of my heart—as a tear drops on my phone, running down the photo before the screen fades to black.
“It’s not like you were honest either. You should have told me about Derek confronting you.”
He’s right. I should have. Maybe if I’d opened up first, he would have felt more secure to do the same. But I guess that’s a mistake I’ll have to live with.
“You’re right.” I step back, angling for the door. “I guess we’re both liars.”