16. PRESENT DAY – February #2
“No,” Connor refutes. “It has nothing to do with intelligence. More than a few idiots stood beside me at graduation.” He props an arm on the seat cushion, facing me. “You flunked because you didn’t belong there. That school isn’t designed to uphold boys who love things other than themselves.”
I loved Willow.
I missed Willow.
Every day I was there.
I think about how Faust is a boarding school, cut off from friends and family in the middle of fucking nowhere New York. Most of the guys I met seemed perfectly happy being away. No one missed for anything.
They just wanted for everything. They wanted money and prestige and that billion-dollar glory.
I just wanted my girl.
My best friend, the only friend I came to care about. Who’d turn into the single most important person in my entire life.
It’s funny because if I asked Connor what he wanted when he was at Faust, I think I’d know what he’d tell me.
“I wanted it all.”
I’m not sure where Connor is going with this, and honestly, I’m too in my head to even stare at his blue eyes. So I divert my gaze to the window.
Lamplight from Philly streets glows softly outside in the dark night.
Connor continues, “Cobalt Inc. isn’t Faust. The things I value now are not the things I valued when I was seventeen. You belong at my company.”
I know Cobalt Inc. is different than Faust. I don’t feel miserable at work. The people are okay. Keith is annoying but harmless. Being around people who are driven and care about their goals is good motivation to keep going. And it’s kind of nice seeing the same faces every day.
But I’m going to change that with what I’m about to ask Connor.
I’m going to change everything.
My chest tightens. Maybe Connor knows something is wrong and he’s trying to prevent me from quitting. I won’t quit…not unless he says “no.”
The quiet only lasts a couple seconds before I break it. “Before I ask you what I need to ask,” I say, caging a breath. “I need to know something.”
He waves me on.
“Your kids are cute now, but they’re going to get older and not be perfect, you know. So what happens if one of your sons grows up to be something like me: flunks out of two prep schools, inks his body up, smokes and vandalizes houses in your neighborhood?”
Connor doesn’t break his gaze from mine, but he’s stone-faced, nothing passing through his calm, impassive exterior. And then he says, “I think we already know how that story plays out.”
I just shake my head, thoughts spinning.
“You hired me because I can code,” I say. “Because I was Willow’s boyfriend.”
“I hired you because I saw potential,” he refutes.
“If you believe anything else then you’re wrong.
Not uncommon. I’m sure it’s a natural state that you’re learning to live with.
” He runs a cool hand through his wavy brown hair.
“You’re in my limo right now because I like you.
Despite the fact that you can’t seem to enjoy your own company. ”
Fuck, man.
I rub at my eyes. “I have to ask you something.”
He grins a blinding grin that makes me feel the size of Skittle. “So you’ve already said.” His calming gaze softens. “I’m still waiting.”
I take a tighter breath. Let’s go, Garrison.
“Willow’s everything to me.” Her name brings comfort and strength and I continue on.
“She’s more than a girlfriend. It’s like code.
She’s the script on the program, and I’m nothing but a blank screen without her.
” I exhale a sharper breath. “And it’s not like I haven’t learned to be happy on my own in Philly and persevere or whatever.
I have. I know I have, but she’s still all the way in London.
She’ll be there for years, and the longer we’re apart, the more I get in my head and ruin things.
So I just need to see her more.” I extend my arm to the limo window.
“I can program over there. It’s not a problem.
I’m just asking for like one week every month to telecommute. That’s all.”
I drop my arm and massage my sweating knuckles, breath like lead in my lungs.
Connor is unreadable, brows arched. Lines crease his forehead, but I don’t think they’re from confusion.
I feel like shit asking to telecommute not just down the street, but a whole country away. Because I’m asking for more when Connor has already given me everything.
“So you want me to give you a week off every month when I don’t even know what you’re working on,” Connor says. “You do know how that request sounds?”
“It’s not one week off ,” I counter quickly. “I’ll still be working.”
“But I’ll have to trust that you’re working. If you’re not coming into the office, I can’t see you on your computer coding every day.”
Shit, this is going bad. I rake fingers through my hair. “Look, I know how it sounds.”
“Outrageous. Outlandish,” Connor says, tilting his head. “And so you also must know that if I grant your request, it’s out of nepotism and nothing more—”
“I’m okay with that,” I cut him off.
Connor stares at me, still impassively, still unreadable. Shit.
I shift uncomfortably on the leather seat. “Until tonight, I thought I got this job out of nepotism,” I admit. “It’s never stopped me from going to work. It won’t stop me from putting forth all my effort.” Feeding on that bloated leech one more time won’t bother me.
My boss just shakes his head once.
My nerves ratchet to a new degree. “Connor—”
“I won’t grant your request,” he says calmly, casually, like he’s not just ripping apart my entire world. I also zone in on his words.
Won’t.
It’s not that he can’t. Because he can. He just doesn’t want to.
I look away. Out the window. As pain starts shattering my chest, my ribcage, my fucking heart. I can’t see Willow.
How long will we be apart? Forever. It fucking feels like forever.
Unbearable doesn’t even cut it. And fuck me, for putting all my hope and desire and utter want into this one thing. Because losing something I never had shouldn’t feel this devastating. This crushing .
“Garrison,” Connor says softly. “Understand that I’m doing this for your own benefit.”
That gets to me.
I swing my head and choke on a bitter laugh.
“My benefit?” I say in disbelief. “Unless it benefits me to feel miserable , then I don’t see how this has anything to do with me.
” I clench my knee with a shaking hand. “You know what. I qu…” I can’t finish those words.
They’re sawed off by something inside of me.
I blink hard, pushing back more emotion.
Connor watches me with tranquility that should calm me but it’s setting me on edge. “I’m not trying to push you to quit, Garrison. I don’t want that. Neither do you. But if I let you go to London seven days out of the month— every month—you will quit.”
I don’t see how I will. “You don’t know that.”
He raises his brows. “Four words I don’t hear often.
” His lip lifts. “I know you. I know that you lead with your emotions, not your head. And if you’re in London for seven days, you’ll email me asking for another day overseas.
It’ll turn into telecommuting for eight.
Then you’ll ask for another week. Fourteen days will turn into twenty-one.
And then by the end of the year, you’ll call me to say that you want to stay there permanently.
Because given the choice between Willow and this job, you will choose Willow.
So I’m not giving you the choice. I’m allowing you to have both while you still can. And one day, you’ll thank me for it.”
I grind down on my teeth. Pain leeches everywhere, all doors shutting from me to her. No way there. No escape or passageway.
“You don’t trust me to stay seven days in London and come back?” That’s what I’m getting from this.
“No, I don’t. And if you thought about it more, you might not trust yourself either. Just ask yourself which would be harder: not seeing Willow for months, or having to leave her every three weeks?”
I finally understand what he’s saying.
Either way I’m fucked. But at least in one scenario I get to see her. Hold her. Comfort her. But Connor already told me I don’t get a choice. He made it for me. That hits me.
“This decision,” I say. “It’s not from my boss, is it?”
Connor rolls up his sleeves slowly. “No, it’s not.” He glances my way. Blue eyes hitting mine. “It’s from your friend.”
The limo rolls towards the gated neighborhood, slowing down. My head is heavy. Spirits dulled. I don’t know what to do. How to see Willow more often. How to make this relationship work. If it’s even possible anymore. I try one last thing. The good ole guilt trip.
“Yeah, and what happens if we break up because we can’t see each other?” I ask. “You’re going to be an accomplice to that, you know. If you’re such a great friend, you could have helped.” I feel like utter shit as soon as I say the words. Fuck, why even go there?
Because I’m me.
Because I could.
Connor stares through me like I’m made of glass. “If you break up because you can’t see each other, then your relationship is too fragile to last anyway. Blame me, if you’d like. But it will be sorely misdirected.”
Fragile.
I feel fucking fragile.
“How do I make us stronger?” I ask him since he seems to have all the fucking answers.
Connor smiles a soft, genuine smile. “First step is believing you already are.”
The words roll around in my head for a couple minutes. Until the limo slows to a stop at Loren’s house.
There’s one more thing I need to ask. One more unanswered question that’s going to plague me. “One more thing,” I say. “How well do you know Jonathan Hale?”
Connor’s expression flatlines, impassive again. “Better than you. Why do you ask?”
I shake my head, already coming up with a roundabout answer. “I just don’t know him that well, I guess, and if Willow and I are going to be more serious, I figure I should start trying to.” It’s not untrue.
Jonathan and I have met briefly at group events—Lo usually invites him—but for the most part I don’t interact with Jonathan.
I always figured it was because my relationship with Willow was slow and new, but her relationship with her dad was even slower and newer.
It never bothered me that she didn’t want those two things colliding.
But now that I know Jonathan used to say shit to Lo that my brothers used to say to me…
it changes things. I should know my girlfriend’s dad better, and I want to make sure he’s not going to screw her over with that loan.
I can’t tell Lo and Ryke about it, so I’m going to try to protect Willow myself—with everything I have.
Connor eyes me. “Jonathan Hale is a person you’re better off not knowing. Especially you.”
“Why?”
“Because unless you share his last name, you are collateral damage in his life. And you have the most unenviable position.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re dating his only daughter.”