Текст книги "Love Unspoken "
Автор книги: Lisa DeJong
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Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Sneak Preview-Break Even
Acknowledgements
Copyright © 2015 by Lisa De Jong
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Edited by Chelsea Kuhel
Cover by Mae I Design
Formatting by Formatting By KassiCoop
THAT PICTURE BLAKE PAINTED me of my house at Christmas time—I set it in the corner of my room after he left. For the rest of that day—and the day after—I stayed curled in a ball staring at it as tears rolled down my cheeks.
I fucked up. I made too many assumptions and read too much into Pierce’s words.
Blake is not an angel, but he’s definitely not the person Pierce made him out to be. I can’t help but think about what this Christmas would have been like if I’d just waited at home for him. If he’d come in with the painting … how different that day would have been. Who does that for someone? Who spends all day painting a girl a picture of home when she can’t be there for Christmas?
It would have been a turn in our relationship. Instead, I took the curve too fast, not watching where I was going, missing the turn all together.
Somewhere along the way, the little game we liked to play turned into something more. Something a lot like love—a better love than I’ve ever felt before. And now it’s gone.
I won’t get a chance to kiss him every morning.
I won’t get to tell him I love him before bed.
And I think what hurts the most is that I won’t get a chance to help him through the suffering. He needs someone, but it won’t be me—not after everything that has happened.
Everything he told me about Alyssa plays over and over in my head. To think about what it must have been like for him to watch Alyssa change over the years. To watch her fall into such a dark hole that he couldn’t even see her anymore … at least not as the same person she used to be.
And to have been the one who found her …
I can’t imagine the weight of the guilt he feels every day that he wakes up without her. I wonder if certain places or things remind him of her. I wonder if he sees any of her in me.
Are we different? Are we the same? And if we are, would he still feel the same way about me if I wasn’t.
It’s not his fault … it’s not hers either.
I brought back all the emotions he’s been trying to bury. Not only that, but I threw them in his face in the worst way possible. He was doing the best he could for me, and all I did was doubt him.
He ran because of me, and now all I have left is a picture of home. It’s beautiful—it’s a memory to keep for years, but he missed something when he painted it: he’s my home.
I want to go home.
“ARE YOU DONE WITH THE MOOD board for the 5th Avenue project?”
I jump, not having heard him coming up behind me. He’s good at that. Too good.
“Almost. I just need to decide what color to pull from the window coverings for the walls. Any suggestions?”
His strong hand squeezes my shoulder. It might faze me if he hadn’t done it hundreds of times before. “Gray would be the safe choice, but if it were me, I’d cover the walls with wood planks. A rustic, aged gray that will balance the bold furnishings.”
Ideas like that are how he got to where he is. “Do you think Wade will go for that?” I ask, remembering how hard the man is to please.
“He might balk at first, but it’ll grow on him, especially when he realizes no other hotel in New York has anything like it.”
I nod, picking a gray colored pencil from the table to make the idea come to life. That’s what my job is after all—turning a blank white board into something people will stare at … something so detailed they actually envision themselves in the space. It’s also a distraction from the proximity of Pierce’s body and his strong masculine scent.
Even though it’s been a few months, I still can’t get the thoughts of the one night we spent in New York out of my head. It’s further complicated because I’m working on the New York boutique hotel—the same one Pierce didn’t want any part of.
“How’s this?” I ask, shading between the dark gray lines.
He leans in closer, his chest brushing against my shoulder. I shut my eyes on instinct but quickly recover. “What if we give it an illusion? Make the planks appear woven.”
I hate and admire his ability to visualize what I can’t. Some day I hope that I’m half as good as he is at this. “I like it.”
For a couple minutes, he just stands there watching me. It used to make me uncomfortable, but even this seems normal now. I try to pretend he’s not there, but his warm breath tickles the back of my neck. High buns may be in, but on days like this, they aren’t a good idea—not when your powerful, sexy boss is literally breathing down your neck. The one you kissed—almost slept with.
“Did you have lunch?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.” Unless Reece kidnaps me from my desk, I usually grab a protein bar from my drawer. Attacking the cafeteria alone is like wandering aimlessly into a high school dance without a date.
“Come with me.”
I don’t answer right away. I can’t. My mind is in a constant tug-of-war with my heart. I just … I want him still. After the pain, the months of silence … I want him. As long as I remember him, he’ll always be a part of me.
“Don’t let him take you down with him. You’re better than that … you’re better than him,” he says softly, his warm breath hitting the back of my neck yet again.
“It’s not about him. It’s—”
“Then have lunch with me.”
My teeth grind together in an angry rhythm to keep my emotions at bay. Pierce painted Blake as a monster when he’s not even close, and a part of me hasn’t forgiven him for that. “I need to finish this.”
He pulls the pencil from between my fingers. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll discuss the project over a sandwich.”
Blake’s been gone for almost six months, and I blame Pierce. I blame him when I should blame myself. I should have trusted him. I knew him better than to make assumptions.
“Fine, I’ll take a short lunch then I have to get back to it.”
“Don’t be that way, Lila. Have you done anything outside these cubicle walls since you started on this project?” he asks, crossing his arms over his strong chest.
I pull my sweater from the back of my chair and slip it on. “No reason to.”
“It’s called inspiration, Lila.”
He walks. I stay close behind, drawing the eyes of everyone we pass.
“There’s enough going on in my head. I don’t need to add to it,” I mumble, watching his expensive leather shoes to avoid the stares.
The elevator opens, and five sets of eyes stare at us. Being Pierce Stanley’s friend sucks sometimes. He walks to one corner, and the group automatically clears to the other.
As soon as the door closes, he leans into me. “I liked the old Lila better.”
So did I, I think.
“She’s still here,” I whisper, half-heartedly.
“I know,” he replies. “We just have to find her.”
I don’t have an answer for that. I know she’s still in me. Who I used to be is part of my history—she’s not going anywhere. She’s just buried under a heavy pile of heartbreak.
I fall hard.
I love harder.
Blake left, and when he did, he took a piece of me with him. I’ve tried to get the old Lila back the last few months but it’s as if I can’t see anything in front of me … not when I can’t stop thinking about what I once had.
Pierce nudges my shoulder. “We can get off now.”
Shaking my head, I come out of the fog. I’ve been caught up in it so much lately that I don’t know what it’s like to just be.
We walk side by side to the little café I’ve gone to with Reece before.
“I didn’t think people came here for business meetings,” I say as I walk through the door he holds open for me.
I look back. He smiles. “I left business back at the office.”
Damn him.
“This should be quick then,” I chide as we walk up to the counter.
I order a club sandwich and a bottle of water. He gets the same with a cup of soup and follows me to a small table in the back corner. My heart beats faster than usual. Pierce pushes me. My friends push me. Life is easier when I can hide away inside my own head. I’ve done a good job of it.
“Actually, I do have one piece of business,” he announces after enjoying the first bite of his soup. “I talked to Wade earlier.”
“I’m sorry I missed it,” I reply, sarcastically, twisting the cap off my water.
He laughs, scrubbing his hand over his jaw. “You almost make that sound believable.” He pauses, some of the playfulness from earlier disappearing. “He wants us in New York next week for a few days to meet with his team.”
Thoughts of the last time we were in New York flash through my mind, and they have nothing to do with Wade. New York City will never be just a place to me; it’s a page in life’s scrapbook.
“And if we don’t?”
“That’s not an option.”
Great. “I don’t know if I can have the mood board done by then.”
“If I asked you to, you’d have it done this afternoon.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I think better of it. He’s right … always. “What days are you thinking?”
“Leave Monday. Come home Thursday afternoon.”
“Why so long?”
He shrugs. “We have a scheduled meeting with him late Monday afternoon then he’s hosting a meet and greet for everyone Tuesday evening. This is Wade’s new baby; failure is never an option for him.”
“I still don’t get why you even want to work with him.”
He leans in, his bright eyes just inches from mine. “If I only worked with people I like, you wouldn’t have a job. Getting to where I’m at required a lot of sacrifices, and my sanity happens to be one of them.”
‘Do you ever get bored? I mean … you’ve accomplished so much. Have you reached a point where you feel like you have enough? I’d think at some point the success would give you the power to retain your sanity. Be more picky about the projects you take on.”
“You’re missing the point. Money is nice, but I don’t do this for the money; I do it for the challenge. I want to be the best,” he says, taking another spoonful of the steamy broth.
“I think you’re already there,” I say quietly. In the six months I’ve been working with him, I’ve been captured by his brilliance. And through every step of the way, he’s been a steady force. If he’s stressed, I never see it.
“There is one challenge I haven’t completed. It’s not over yet, and I’m not going to give up.”
I pull my water to my lips, sipping it slowly. He says little things like this sometimes when we’re alone. He’s not afraid to show his cards, but I’m not ready to let him see mine … or to even play the game.
“I think we should get back to the office, especially if I have to complete the board by next week,” I say, standing to dump my mostly uneaten sandwich in the garbage.
“Why do you do that?” he asks, sneaking up behind me.
I keep walking. “Do what?”
“Run. Why do you keep running from me?”
I ignore him until we’re outside, away from the crowd. “Because you’re the one who helped tie the rope around my heart and squeeze it until it was broken in two. If you would have been more honest with me about what happened with Alyssa, he’d still be here.”
He presses his hand against my back, guiding me down the street. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it.”
“That’s it,” I say, spinning on my heels to face him. “What the fuck do you want from me, Pierce? Is there a mass conspiracy amongst men to make my life a living hell?” I attempt to keep my voice low, but the rage within me makes that almost impossible.
The asshole actually smiles. “No, but if we’re ever going to move forward, you have to let out that anger. This is a nice start.”
I point my finger at him. “I swear, Pierce, if you weren’t my boss, I’d have some very choice words for you right now.”
“Keep it coming.” He smiles again.
Without another word, I spin around and hurry back into the office building. If he talks, I don’t hear him. If he walks closely, I don’t feel him.
FOR THE REST OF THE DAY, I do a good job avoiding Pierce. He must have gotten the point because he sent his secretary over with my flight itinerary for next week. He’s pretty official for someone with a private jet.
Reece comes around the corner as I’m pulling my purse over my shoulder. “What’s the plan for this weekend?”
“Same old.” I smile, but it’s with sadness. Rainbows only form after rainstorms if the sun shines. I’ve lived in the clouds for far too long to even believe in the rainbows.
“Why don’t we go hang out at Charlie’s tonight? Dana is working, right?”
Truth is, I hide out there some days after work when I know Dana isn’t working. Charlie saves a seat at the end of the bar just for me. He keeps the drinks coming until I’ve had enough, and then he calls a cab to take me home.
Sometimes when things get really bad, I just need familiarity. Charlie’s gives me that.
“I’ll join you for a drink or two then I have to go.”
She shrugs, a huge smile pulling at her lips. “I’ll take it.”
“Train or taxi?” I ask, starting toward the elevator.
“Taxi, please. I don’t feel like dealing with the crowd.”
“Bad day?”
She groans, pushing the button for the first floor. “I spent all day drawing and redrawing the same floor of a twenty-two story office building. The rooms were too big, then too small, then the asshole forgot to tell me about the conference rooms that were supposed to be at each corner.”
“Did you get it done?”
She laughs sarcastically. “That’s a big no. I’m going to work on it this weekend, and hopefully it will be in an acceptable state by Monday. Then, I only have twenty-one floors to go. Yay me!”
“If it makes you feel any better, I have to present the board I’ve been working on in New York next week. Thinking about it makes me want to vomit, so it’s probably a good thing we’re drinking tonight. Make sure I drink just enough to forget about it, will you?”
We hail a taxi and continue complaining about our upcoming week as it drives through rush hour traffic, moving only a few feet between stops. It would be annoying if I was alone, but the company makes it tolerable.
“If you want to get out of going to New York, I’ll gladly take your place,” she remarks as we pull in front of Charlie’s.
“Would you give up your baby, Reece?”
She lifts a brow. “That’s an odd question since I don’t have a baby and all. Or even a man to make a baby with.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“It’s the end of a very long week. I’m not in the mood to read between the lines.”
“Point taken,” I say, handing the driver some cash before climbing out of the car. “What I was trying to say is I’ve put so much into this project that I’m not willing to give it up … not for anything. From beginning to end, it’s been mine.”
“Ah, well, I can’t say I’ve fallen in love with my current project yet, so I’d gladly give it up.”
We walk into Charlie’s, taking in the usual Friday crowd. It hasn’t changed much. Heads still turn when I walk in. It’s hard to escape when the ratio is ten men to each woman. They haven’t quite figured out that they have a ten percent chance of getting laid on a good night.
“Hey, pretty ladies. Are you looking for a place to sit?” asks one of the regulars at the bar as we walk by. He’s harmless enough, but I learned when I worked here that it’s best to ignore him.
“What the hell are you two doing here?” Dana asks when she sees us coming. I don’t see her often anymore, and I feel like the worst friend in the world when I do.
I wrap my arms tightly around her. “I missed you.”
“And we need to get drunk,” Reece chimes in behind me.
“Well, you’re in the right place. What can I get you?”
“Shots,” Reece blurts before I get a chance. “Charlie will let you do one with us, won’t he?”
Dana gestures to Charlie then leans over the bar, whispering something to him.
He nods and lines three shot glasses on the bar, filling them with an amber colored liquid.
“What’s that?” I ask, tracing my fingertip along the rim.
Charlie grins. “Fireball. Have one, and I promise you’ll be begging for a second then a third.”
“Let’s do this, girls!” Dana shouts, holding her glass in the air. Reece eyes me, watching until I pick mine up. “1 … 2 … 3”
I tilt my head back, pouring the liquid down my throat. It burns a little at first, but for the most part, it just tastes like cinnamon gum. It would be easy to disappear with the entire bottle and not know what hit me until I wake up the next morning.
“Again,” I choke, slamming my glass on the bar. I need to forget, even if it’s just tonight.
He fills my glass. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll call you a cab.”
I wink, hoping the other two don’t pick up on my regular habit.
After the third shot, the night blurs.
My head aches as I attempt to open my eyes. Drinking has become a form of self-punishment. The more pain I cause myself, the less guilt I feel. It’s my way of seeking repentance. Deep down, I know repentance will never be found at the bottom of a bottle, though.
The first thing I always do on mornings like this is try to recall what happened the night before.
I remember laughing. That was all Dana’s fault.
I remember arguing. Reece was on the receiving end of that.
And crying … the water works always start after the fourth or fifth drink.
Someone moans next to me causing me to squeal as I jump out of bed. “Damnit, Reece! Are you trying to kill me?” I scream, recognizing her as my departing gift from the bar. At least it’s not a nameless man.
“Please stop screaming. My head is going to explode any minute,” she says quietly, circling her temples with her fingertips.
“You scared me.”
“Sorry,” she mumbles. “I don’t even remember how we got here, but I’m glad it was just you I woke up to.”
My head pounds, forcing me back to my pillow. “We’re never doing Fireball shots again. Ever.”
“Trust me. I’ll never suggest it.” She turns her head so we’re lying face to face. It reminds me of the sleepovers I had when I was younger. “What time is it anyway?”
I pinch my eyes closed, despising the bright sunlight that shines through the crack in the curtains. “Don’t make me look. I’d have to turn around, and I can’t commit to that right now.”
“At least it’s Saturday.”
“No doubt. The mood board may just have to wait until tomorrow.”
She sighs. “I’ve seen that thing a hundred times at least. It’s perfect … brilliant actually. Leave it alone.”
“It’s not really that. I have to be able to sell it to a group of wealthy, intelligent businessmen. What if they hate it?” I speak as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the raging demons in my head.
“What does Pierce think?”
“He says he loves it.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” she says, curling the pillow under her head. We lay in silence for a few minutes; it’s nice to spend time with someone who doesn’t need to be entertained the entire time. “Are you ever going to be able to let him go?”
It takes a moment before her question registers. Between the lack of sleep and pounding hammer in my head, things aren’t adding up easily. “I never had him, Reece.”
“But you thought you did. Perception became your reality.”
“I know. I keep waiting for him to come back and say he made a huge mistake by leaving.”
“Has he called yet?” she asks, hesitantly.
It’s been a sore subject—me not being able to get ahold of him. I want to know that he’s okay if nothing else. “No.”
“After everything you’ve been through the last year, you may not believe this, but there’s someone better out there for you. Someday, you’re going to meet a guy who’ll stay by your side unconditionally.”
“That scares me actually,” I whisper.
“Why would that scare you?”
“Because to get to that point, I’m going to have to trust someone again. I just don’t think I can.”
She stares me straight in the eye. “There is one guy you trust.” My lips part, but she starts up again before I can say anything. “Maybe it’s time for you to give Pierce a real chance.”
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. If Blake hadn’t walked into my life, Pierce would be the one lying beside me in bed right now. I don’t doubt that for a second.
“I screwed up any chance we had a long time ago,” I say sadly.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
I think about the benefit. The night in New York. Frozen hot chocolate on Christmas Eve. I had chances but I gave them all up for Blake.
“I don’t know. I mean … I’ve done things. He’s done things. I don’t know.”
“Promise me one thing,” she says. “Promise me you’ll keep an open mind. I can’t stand to see you like this for much longer, and you’d hate to meet the guys I’d set you up with.”
I laugh which only makes me wince due to the massive headache last night gifted me. “Are you going to lend me one of your many book boyfriends?”
“Well, I’m not willing to give up any of them, but have you met the new guy in accounting?” she snorts. “The one with gold, wire-rimmed glasses and a hideous comb over complemented with a whole tube of gel.”
My nose crinkles on instinct. “You mean he’s bald?”
“Oh, he’s not bald. I just don’t think he’s made time for a haircut lately.” She giggles. “And, this is the best part, he wears white tube socks with black dress shoes and slacks.”
“He’s all yours,” I say, closing my eyes to ease my headache.
“It’s your loss. I bet he’s hung like a horse.”
“Why don’t you find out? I think you spend too much time worrying about my love life.” I yawn, feeling myself drifting off to sleep.
Reece leaves shortly after noon, giving me back my quiet apartment. This is how it was supposed to be when I moved here last fall, but I liked the way it was when Blake was here more.
He took away my lonely. I would rather fight with him than be here like this, and the worst part is, I can’t even tell him.
His second chance has been a phone call away the last several months.
My cell phone rings, pulling me from the internal prison I’ve locked myself in.
I look down at it and smile, swiping my thumb across the screen. “Hey, what are you up to?” I ask, fiddling with the bottom of my yoga pants.
“Just thinking about you. Weekends are quiet here; I’m ready to come home so we can take on Chicago together.” Mallory comes home in two months, but that seems like an eternity from now.
“What? You don’t think I’m already lighting this place up?” I ask, rolling my eyes at my own question.
She laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. What did you do last night?”
“Reece and I went to Charlie’s. And for your information, I got drunk and woke up in bed with someone.”
“No way,” she blurts. Would it be that much of a surprise? “Was he at least cute?”
“He was a she.”
“Holy shit!”
“Mallory.”
She laughs. “Sorry, you’re throwing me for a loop today. Are you sure you’re the same Lila I’ve been talking to the last few months?”
“I avoided the mirror this morning, but I think so.” I pause, wondering how much of this she’s taking seriously. “Aren’t you going to ask me about her?”
“Who?” she asks.
“The woman I slept with last night.”
“You’re starting to scare me.”
“You don’t have to worry too much. It was just Reece.”
She sighs. “For a second, I thought I was going to have to catch the next plane back to the states to fix you.”
“Am I fixable?” I ask quietly, thinking back to what Reece and I talked about this morning.
“I don’t think you’re broken.”
“Maybe I’m not broken, but a part of me is missing.”
I rarely bring him up, but today he’s on my mind. He takes up so much of it, there’s no room for anything else.
“I wish I could tell you it will all be okay, but I can’t, Lila. I know my brother, and once he makes a decision, he usually doesn’t turn back.” She takes a deep breath. She hates being in the middle, and I hate putting her there. “I’ve talked to him. He’s doing better than he was, but I wouldn’t wait for him to come back. I don’t know if he’ll ever come back.”
“Thank you for telling me … that he’s doing better, I mean. I’ve been spending a lot of time worrying about him.”
“He doesn’t want you to wait for him,” she whispers.
My lungs constrict, making it hard to breathe. “Did he say that?” My voice shakes with each word.
“No, I’m telling you as your friend and because I know my brother. I just want you to have a chance at happiness. You’re not going to get it from where you are right now,” she pleads.
“I know.”
There’s a long awkward pause—a rarity for the two of us.
I can’t take it because it gives me too much time to think. I don’t need any more time for that.
“So what are you doing this weekend?” I ask, filling the void.
“I have a project to finish, and then I think I’m going to go to go for a hike or something. It’s too nice to be stuck inside. You?”
“I’m going to New York with Pierce on Monday to present the board I’ve been working on for months. I should probably pack then I’ll spend the rest of the weekend talking myself out of running away.” My stomach hurts just thinking about it.
“From what I know about Pierce, he wouldn’t put you in this position unless he thought you were ready.”
“I’m just nervous. It wasn’t long ago I was selling furniture; it’s hard to believe sometimes.”
“When you are stressing, think about everything you’ve overcome this last year. You’ve got this,” she says in the same tone my mom would use if I were talking to her right now.
“Thank you. I think I needed this today.”
“Are you sure I made you feel better?” she asks.
“I’d be lying if I said I felt better, but I do have more clarity. I probably needed that more than anything,” I admit. I’ve been living my life by walking through it with my eyes on the ground. It’s time I look up and get a glimpse of what’s going on around me. I’ve been given the biggest opportunity of my life, and I’m going to be there for it.
“You better call me next week and let me know how it goes.”
“You’ll be the first to know,” I answer back before letting her go.
The next week is going to be interesting.
