Page 75 of The Client
As if she hasn’t lived through enough of a nightmare already.
How is it possible that even amidst Zoric’s abuse, after surviving that goddamn illegal auction, all the while dealing with my bullshit to boot, she managed to find the strength to fight for her career, keep supporting her sister, and, against all reason, develop feelings for me?
She said thatshe loves me. That she’s fallen in love with me.
I have never been knocked so far off-center as I was when she said those words. I still can’t process them. Did she mean it, sincerely? Or is she just conflating appreciation with love? My offer to rescue her from Zoric could easily have confused her emotionally, made her think that she has feelings for me when in fact she really doesn’t. It’s probably just some passing infatuation. There’s no way she really does love me. It’s not possible.
But what if it is? What if she meant it, and I let her walk away?
No. I can’t afford to think that way. She’s just young, and inexperienced. She’s over romanticized the situation. It would be foolish of both of us to pretend otherwise.
I grab the lease for Celine’s apartment off my desk and run my fingers over it. Who’d have thought that a few sheets of paper could cause so much trouble? When Celine first approached me to ask for help escaping my father, my knee-jerk reaction was to tell her to go to hell. After everything that woman put me through, the absolute last thing I wanted to do was offer her a lifeline. But she begged. Not for herself, either. But for her unborn child.
“I just want what’s best for this baby. Please. This is your little brother or sister, Rhys, please don’t turn me away,” she’d said, and I could hear the genuine tears in her voice coming over the cellphone connection.
Although I told her I’d have to think about it, my mind was already made up. That same night, I wrote a check for the deposit. The next day, I met her at a café downtown, gave her the check, and agreed to cosign on a place for a six-month term, until she got on her feet.
It never once crossed my mind to discuss any of it with Izabela. It might’ve made all the difference if I had.
Pushing away from my desk, I go down the hall and upstairs to her bedroom. She’s gone, of course, but I feel her absence deeply. It’s like a hollow in the middle of my chest.
The bed is made, and everything is neat and tidy. A few cardboard boxes sit in the closet, filled with clothes and shoes that she must have abandoned. Her laptop is gone, as well as her toiletries, all the necessary things. Everything she’s left here is nothing that she needs now.
Including me.
Cursing softly, I sit on the edge of her bed. She’s gone. She’s really gone. I chased her away with my indifference and my disrespect, my utter lack of regard for her wants and needs. I treated her like nothing more than a plaything, an object I purchased for my own pleasure and refused to see as anything but. So yes, of course she left. And now I’ll never see her again, unless it’s on a billboard or in a magazine. I’ve lost her forever. And it’s all my fault.
Panic constricts my chest.
I need her back. I need her here so I can function, and breathe, and my heart can beat properly. I need her here because…oh, fuck.
Because I love her, too.
Except she’d never believe me if I tried to tell her that. I have to prove myself first. I have to become the man she thought I was. The man who deserves her. And that’s going to take time.
But I can start now, can’t I?
Bursting from the bed, I run downstairs, dialing my driver as I go.
My grandfather never stays at work past six p.m., so I’m sweating bullets as my car weaves through traffic on its way to the McConnell Enterprises building. All I can think is, there’s only one way to keep Reginald McConnell and his legacy out of this mess. I just have to hope I can pull this off and not bring down everything my grandfather has worked for.
When I rush into his office, his rheumy eyes go wide with surprise. It’s 5:57 p.m.
“Rhys. What’s the matter? Has something happened?”
I close the door and try to force the desperation from my voice, even as I try to catch my breath. “Consider this my formal resignation, sir. I’m stepping down, effective immediately.”
His expression doesn’t change. He calmly gestures me to a chair, but I don’t take it. Fixing my tie and smoothing my hair, I search the strong, deeply lined face I know so well. He’s aged a lot in the last couple of years, getting incrementally slower and more easily tired as he inches his way toward retirement. Even so, he’s been reluctant to give up his position as CEO, and I don’t blame him. Perhaps he’s afraid that once he steps down, his whole life will stop. His entire existence will be meaningless, reduced to long, empty days doing not much of anything.
It’s exactly how I feel when I think about living my life without Izabela.
My grandfather holds out his hands placatingly. “Just slow down. Let’s take a deep breath and talk this through. What’s this all about?”
Spilling everything might be more distressing for him than it’s worth. I’m afraid of how he’ll look at me if I tell him the truth. And I’m ashamed to admit that I bought a woman for the sole purpose of having her at the beck and call of my dick, regardless of the feelings I may have developed for her along the way.
It’s not that I think my grandpa is a prude about the ways in which men find their sexual pleasure, but this isn’t one of his old cronies or work colleagues admitting to some kind of personal failure. I’m the Vice President, and his future heir. My actions have put McConnell Enterprises at risk.
And how can he not be disappointed in me? All these years, he’s groomed me to take over his place in this company. I’m far from perfect, but the good parts of me are because of him. I couldn’t bear the weight of his disapproval on top of losing Izabela.
