Page 107 of Dirty Rival
Once I’m in the elevator I hold my breath anyway. He won’t be in the lobby. I was just told that he’s not. I don’t want him to be there. I so want him to be in the lobby, and that’s a problem. I can’t trust him. I need to remember that I cannot be with a man who I’m sixty seconds from falling in love with who I can’t trust. How can I even fall in love with someone I don’t trust? Does that mean I do trust him? Or that I’m just a fool who wants to trust him, therefore, I’m convincing myself that I can trust him? Why am I thinking these things? He was horrible to me at the party. No one who cares about you acts like that. I’m business with a side of sex. I press my hands to my face with anger and pain. The doors open and my heart thunders in my chest, adrenaline surging through me.
I exit the car and scan the lobby to find no signs of Reid, a discovery that stabs me in the heart because I’m one big self-destructive mess right now, apparently. Or I will be if I don’t watch myself. The man not only kept something huge from me, I know he’s got another secret. I know he knows something about my father and he won’t tell me. Obviously it’s something he believes will turn me against him.
I hurry out of the door and my eyes land on the railing where Reid and I had met that night, not long ago, because as he pointed out, we have not been together long enough for it to be long ago. He’s not there. Of course, he’s not. Why would he stand there when I’m inside?
I rush down the sidewalk and hurry to the store. I grab a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, a candy bar, skittles, and almost forget my tampons because I’m on my period and heartbroken, which apparently makes sugar a critical need, and brain cells optional. I can’t be heartbroken. Reid was right. We haven’t been seeing each other that long. I need that ice cream. Which will mean, I’ll then need to work out in the building gym twice as long next week because I can’t run, since I’ve bumped into Reid doing just that before. I really need to call the realtor. I have to move. If I give up everything, no one can take it from me anyway. I need to stop. I’m rambling in my own head. I’m having a rambling conversation with myself.
Ben and Jerry’s, here I come.
I’m almost back to my building when my gaze falls on that same spot by the railing this time, but this time, Reid is there and my heart explodes into a charge at the sight of him. He’s leaning forward, his head bowed, and even from a hundred feet away, I can feel the torment radiating off of him. God. I want to go to him. I want to kiss him and touch him and tell him I trust him, but how do I know his torment is about me and us? How do I know it’s not about letting his grand plan go awry? I have a random flashback of us on the beach and Reid telling me how into me he was.
“I can’t wake up and not think of you,” he’d said. “I can’t go to bed and not think of you. I wanted to tell you about my settlement. You’re in my head, Carrie. I don’t even want to get you out anymore.”
“You couldn’t if you wanted to,” I’d teased, but I remember the twist in my gut as I’d added, “Because we have Grayson to close and a board to satisfy.”
It’s like some part of me knew he was using me. I’d even tried to tell myself to revel in living in the moment because I knew there wouldn’t be more. But he’d been so good at convincing me there would be more. He’d sensed I was worried about the business side of our relationship. I go back to the beach again, to how he’d gotten me past those feelings:
He’d rolled with me, his leg still between mine, those blue eyes staring down at me. “What just happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“You think this is all about the company. That we’re here and now and gone when this is over.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s not about any of those things,” he’d said. “I told you, Carrie. I don’t want to share you. I’m obsessed with you and it’s not the kind of obsession that goes away. You’re with me now. I’m with you now. Say it.”
“Reid—”
He’d kissed me, a silky caress of his tongue before he’d ordered, “Say it.”
I blink back to present, I’d known then that I was in deep, so very deep, and so I’d done it. I’d said it. “I’m with you now and you’re with me.”
And then he’d gone in for the kill and added, “Do you know how many women I’ve said that to? None. No one but you. This isn’t about a deal or a company. This is about you and me and us.”
Us.
He’d convinced me there was an “us” that reached beyond business until his father blew it all for him.
I turn away and run toward the building, entering the lobby and forcing myself to walk to the elevator. I step inside and the doors are shutting as I hear, “Carrie, wait!” And for just a moment, he’s standing across from me, our eyes connecting, as the door finishes sealing me inside. We’re divided, broken in every possible way.
Chapter fifty-three
Reid
Iwake Sunday morning on the couch with a bottle of scotch next to me and a bitch of a hangover, the likes of which I’ve not experienced in a decade. The fact that I didn’t go to bed because Carrie was supposed to be there with me, only makes me want another drink, which I won’t take. I don’t have the luxury of being drunk, not with my father to deal with. But holy hell, when in my entire life have I wanted a woman in my bed, no, in my life? Now. That’s when. Fuck. I drag fingers through my hair and stand up, walking to the kitchen where I grab the Excedrin and down two pills with a bottle of water. I’m going to get another fucking migraine thanks to this hangover. I can feel my temples throbbing. I grab my phone from the pocket of the sweats I put on after I showered last night and check it for a message from Carrie, one I know won’t be there. I’m right. It’s not there. I can’t get to her until Monday. I know this. She’s not going to talk to me before then. She doesn’t understand my father. She doesn’t know what was in my head and I can’t even make her understand. I need out of here. I need to run. I down another bottle of water and head to my bedroom. By the time I’m there, I’m dialing Carrie instead of dressing.
She answers. She fucking answers. “Reid.”
Damn, I like my name on her lips. “Let’s meet.”
“No. And I’m going to work from here tomorrow.”
That pisses me off. “No,” I say, hardening my voice. “You are not. Because that’s not what CEOs do. And I’d say this to anyone else, too. You want to run this company, you need to step up, no matter how personal or rough it is.”
“Right. I need to step up and make your investment worthwhile.”
“Damn straight. You protect everyone’s investment. That’s what CEOs do, and the staff needs to see you there making that happen. If you want my support with the board, you come to work tomorrow. Do you understand?”