Authors: Lexy Timms
“I can't believe how big they are,” she whispered, turning back to Alex.
He pulled the car out of the lot and onto the road that would take them home. “No,” he agreed. “I can't either. It's a little scary, to be honest.”
“Scary in a good way.”
“Yes.” Alex smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “Scary in a good way.”
She hoped it would always be that way as the twins grew up. That she would never have a cause to be actually scared for them the way she had been for Alex more than once since their marriage. It was a lot to hope for, but she didn't think it was a strange request for a mother to have.
Leaning her head back against the seat, Jamie let her eyes slide shut, let the vibration of the road move through her. It had been a good day. A really, really good day. And if she had anything to say about it, there would be so many more like it in their future.
“Mr. Reid,” Justin’s voice over the intercom broke into Alex’s concentration. “I have a Nathanial—sorry—Nate Thompson here to see you,” he cleared his throat, “again.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. The last time the man had shown up in his office, he’d warned him about what would happen if he darkened his door again. It seemed that warning hadn’t been enough. It never was with men like that. “Go ahead and send him in, Justin.”
It would be interesting to see just what Nate thought he was going to get out of the whole thing.
A moment later the door opened and the man walked in, swaggering like he thought bravado would somehow intimidate the owner of Reid Enterprises.
Alex raised an eyebrow at him. “Take a seat.”
Nate sat, leaning back comfortably in the chair.
“Speak.”
“You’re being pretty rude, you know that?”
Alex almost laughed. “On the contrary. I am being exceedingly polite. I believe I told you that I didn’t want to see your face in my office again.”
“That was before. This is now.” The man stretched his legs out in front of himself like he had all the time in the world and the space that he sat in was his to take as he pleased. Alex felt anger rising up hot in his chest. If he didn’t spit out his reason for being there in the next thirty seconds, Alex was going to call security and have him dragged out.
“And what’s so different about now?” Alex asked slowly, voice cold.
“Well now, you see, I’ve got leverage, Alex.”
At that, Alex
did
laugh. “Leverage. Is it as persuasive as your last? Because if it is, you have twenty seconds to be out of my office before I throw you out. And it’s Mr. Reid… You haven’t earned the right to call me by my first name.”
“I don’t actually think you will.” Nate leaned forward in his seat, smiling. “See, I know all about that scandal back before you got married. The one your ex-brother-in-law started. Jamie’s mom told me everything.”
“I fail to see how this is going to help your case,” Alex said dryly. He checked his watch. Ten seconds.
The other man held up a hand. “What I also know is that Stephen was an idiot. He obviously knew Jamie didn’t have a sex tape, since he was the one who dated her before you did. Making one up when he had nothing to deliver on was stupid.” Thompson’s smile widened. “I, on the other hand, actually have something. Jamie may not have made a sex tape. But you did.”
For a moment, Alex was stunned almost speechless. That was his big reveal? That he knew Alex had made a sex tape or two in his younger days? If he thought Alex was going to be threatened by it, he was very mistaken. And dumber than he looked for coming back with nothing but a rumored sex tape to keep Alex from kicking him down the stairs. Jamie knew about the tapes already. She’d never seen them, but Alex had made sure to tell her of their existence after the incident with Stephen.
“And?”
“And I would’ve liked to get the money from you willingly, but I’ll take what I can get. If you don’t give it to me I’m going to release the tapes. They’re quite, uh, heated.”
“I’m sure they’re already out there on the internet somewhere,” Alex said, voice deliberately careless. “I’m high-profile, as is Reid Enterprise’s billion-dollar status, after all. Yet, somehow I doubt you got them from my private files.” He turned back to the quarterly reports he’d been going through before Nate Thompson arrived. “You know where the door is.”
“What? You’re bluffing,” the other man sputtered. “There’s no way that you don’t actually care. You have a wife. You have kids. A reputation.”
“My reputation is hardly in danger from a sex tape I made ten years ago.”
A fist slammed down on his desk, and Alex looked up, his expression cold. “You need to leave now, Mr. Thompson.”
“Not without the money! It’s not like it’s even that much to you. A couple thousand bucks. That’s a drop in the bucket!” He was standing, glaring down at Alex. “I don’t know why you’re being such a hard ass about it. If you want me gone, give me a reason to go. Or the money to leave.”
Alex rose, and stepped around the edge of the desk. Nate looked up at him, suddenly no longer taller, and Alex saw his eyes widen at whatever he saw in Alex’s face. Then they narrowed, like he was planning to settle in for the long haul.
Enough was enough.
“Justin,” Alex said, reaching back to hit the intercom button without taking his eyes off the man staring him down. “Please call security up to reception to have Mr. Thompson escorted from the building. And barred.”
“Ha! Too afraid to deal with me yourself?” Thompson grinned at him. “You’re really going to call your security guys to—”
Alex’s hand closed around the other man’s bicep, and he pulled him toward the door, easily despite the resistance Thompson put up. “I’m calling security because I’ve better things to do than waste my time throwing you out myself.” He pushed the man out into the reception area, where Justin sat watching with shock on his face, and nodded to the security men who had just arrived. Two very large men with none-too-pleased looks on their faces. They took their jobs very seriously. Especially after the fiasco with Stephen.
“Take Mr. Thompson down to the parking lot and see that he gets into his car and leaves, please. He isn’t welcome on Reid Enterprises property, and if he attempts to return call the police and have him arrested for trespassing. File a restraining order, Justin.”
The men took hold of Thompson’s arms on either side and marched him toward the elevator while he struggled in their grip.
“Is that my mom’s boyfriend?” Jamie’s voice asked behind Alex, and he turned.
“Hey, sweetie.” Alex tried to smile, hoping it made the situation appear less stressed. “It is, yes. He seemed to think he could show up here and just demand money. I set him straight on the matter.”
“Demand money?” She stared after Nate Thompson and the security detail as the elevator doors slid closed. “For what?” Her eyes flicked back to Alex.
“For leaving your mother, actually.”
“He wanted—” Jamie stopped herself, hands curling into fists at her sides, and Alex stopped thinking about Jamie’s mother and her good-for-nothing boyfriend because he was thinking about how good Jamie looked when she was angry. It made him want to pull her into his office and get all that intensity focused on something more fun. Jamie, apparently, didn’t really seem in the mood. “I’m not sure even Mom deserves that.”
Privately, Alex was of the opinion that it was exactly what she deserved, and probably not enough after everything that she’d done to her daughters, but he kept that to himself. Jamie wouldn’t want to hear it.
“It’s dealt with now. He won’t be back.” Alex glanced down at the folders in Jamie’s hand. “Are those the files I asked for?”
Jamie started, and looked down at them. “Yes,” she said, holding them out. “They are, actually.”
“Thank you.” Alex reached out and took them, leaning over her to steal a chaste kiss. “I was thinking we could leave a little bit early tonight. Maybe go out to dinner, if you’d like that?”
She smiled. “I would like that a lot, actually.”
“Dinner it is, then,” Alex said. “Six sharp.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
Another quick kiss, and then Alex was headed back to his own office, the files in hand, ignoring Justin’s knowing grin. Alex wasn’t entirely sure that Mr. Thompson wouldn’t at least attempt to carry through with his threat, and there were plenty of tabloid magazines that would gleefully spread the news, but that was a risk he didn’t mind taking. The dickhead wanted money? He could get it from the tabloids, and then give it back to Alex after he sued him for defamation of character. It’d all come full circle either way. And after everything else, it could hardly make things worse.
He sat down at his desk and got back to work.
Mark stepped out of the kitchen, dodging one of the other managers who was on his way in, and ran a hand through his hair. The tour was getting closer by the day, and he still had a list of things he needed to finish before he would be ready for it. There was paperwork to file, and he would need to vet some new employees. Not to mention the construction that was almost finished. They would need to put in the last of the landscaping once that was done, to hide the signs of it. It was less work than he'd started with, but that didn't really make him feel much better in the long run.
There was still so much to do.
As he walked into the main lobby, Mark stopped in his tracks.
Christine was sitting at the desk, her usual pleasant smile gone and her expression tight with stress. She was arguing with a blonde woman who might have been beautiful once, but whose face was twisted with anger that made her look anything but. Mark had met Christine and Jamie's mother once, but he was willing to bet that this almost-stranger he was looking at was her.
He could see that Christine was speaking, arguing with her mother in a whisper and obviously trying not to cause a scene in front of other customers who were moving through the room on their way in or out of the club house. Slowly, trying not to draw attention to himself, he moved in closer.
“—and this really isn't the appropriate place to be doing this,” Christine was saying when he got close enough to hear. “I'm at work. Please just come over to my place later and we can talk. Or call me.”
“I don't see what that has to do with anything, Christine,” the woman snapped, loud enough that several heads turned and Mark's jaw tightened with anger. “I’m your mother and there are things I need to talk about. Ask your boss for a break. Now. And for shit’s sake, why are you working? Of my girls, you’re the one who should be married to someone like Alex. Not working. It’s disgusting.”
Christine looked up and caught sight of Mark. Her cheeks flushed. Christine's mother also looked up, her eyes narrowing.
“You, I assume, are one of the people in charge around here?” she demanded. “My daughter needs a break.”
“I'm in charge here.” He made no effort to move or say more. The expression on the angry woman’s face was nearly priceless.
“Who the hell are you? Tell me your name and then get the manager above you. I have a few choice things to say.”
“I’m Mark Reid—”
“Another Reid?” She rolled her eyes.
Mark cut her off before she could continue. “And I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you not to cause a scene in
my
club. I have customers here who would prefer to be able to enjoy the atmosphere in peace.” He kept his voice low as he spoke, glancing at the other people in the room. Some of them were watching from the corners of their eyes, but he didn't think they could hear him. They were probably just wondering what the woman's problem was.
“Then tell my daughter she can take a break and come talk to me for a minute. It's not going to hurt her to have a discussion with her mother.”
Mark wasn't sure that was actually true, but it was Christine's choice. He turned to look at her, trying to convey without saying it that he would support her if she didn't want to have the discussion. He wasn't above playing mean boss if it meant keeping Christine out of her mother's clutches.
Christine sighed, and shook her head. She got up from the desk. “I'll just be a few minutes, Mr. Reid. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Mark watched them walk toward the front doors together, Christine's shoulders curled in on themselves and her mother moving like she had a bone to pick with the entire world. He wanted to go after them, but the desk would be empty then. He glanced around the room and caught one of the other employees as he walked past.
“Jared. I need you to take over at the front desk for a bit.”
“Of course, Mr. Reid.” Jared sat down, and Mark hurried toward the front door. He wasn't going to spy on Christine and her mother, exactly; he just wanted to be close enough to bail her out if she needed rescuing.
They were walking through the yard that stretched out below the front of the building, Christine guiding her mother toward the path that led up to the vineyard; likely so that she could talk with her more privately, but her mother was turning toward the bottom of the hill and the driving range. Mark saw the moment that Christine gave up on trying to herd her in the right direction, her shoulders slumping a little further.
She wasn't saying much. He couldn't hear them, which was probably a good thing, as much as he wanted to know what they were talking about. If Christine's mother started shouting there was no guarantee he would be able to stop himself from stepping in, not to mention that he, as surely as Christine, didn't want every person at the club to hear the conversation she was having.
Her mother grew agitated. Her hands moved as she talked, and when her head turned so that she could look at her daughter, Mark could see her expression was shifting rapidly between distress and anger, depending on what was coming out of her mouth at the time. There was absolutely nothing subtle about her, and he found himself with a new understanding of Jamie's comments over the years since he'd met her. No wonder she didn't have much love for the woman. She seemed horribly selfish.
Whatever Christine had said apparently wasn’t calming the woman down, either. Her gestures grew wilder, more dramatic, and Mark tried to follow at a discreet distance while still moving closer to them. It wasn't exactly a good place to be inconspicuous, considering that most of the front lawn was just an empty swathe of green, sloping gradually down to the golf course on lower ground. He sighed, and made himself hold back. Following them down to the driving range would probably just make Christine's mother angrier if she saw him.
Christine said something. Mark tried to read her lips, but the angle made it difficult. He could only see part of her face. From what he could tell, though, it looked like she was asking her mother to please calm down.
Which, apparently, seemed to be the wrong choice of words.
Christine's mother exploded. He could hear her all the way back up in the yard, and Mark started walking purposefully toward them. It didn't matter if his presence made the woman any more upset; he wasn't going to stand aside and let Christine be treated like that. She didn't deserve it. Nor did his country club members.
Erica, though, got there first.
Mark hadn't even noticed her, though of course he knew she would be down on the driving range. She had teaching shifts most afternoons. All of his attention had been on Christine and her mother. Apparently he wasn't the only one, though, because even as he picked up his pace to try to catch up with them, Erica came stalking across the grass and met the two of them at the edge of the range.
Mark moved faster.
“—you are! You don't need to be speaking to Christine like this. Especially not in a public place. And
especially
not where she works. Don't you even care? She could lose her job if you cause too much of a scene.” Erica's voice was tight, her arms crossed over her chest and her face stern. “And even if that wasn't a risk, why would you treat someone you care about the way you're treating your daughter? It's not acceptable. It’s abusive.”
Christine was shrinking back from both of them, her eyes wide. Obviously she didn't want to be caught in the crossfire. Mark, looking at the expression on Erica's face, didn't think that he would want to be, either.
“Excuse me! Who the hell do you think
you
are?” Christine's mother was shrieking. “You don't have any kind of right to tell me how I should interact with my daughter. She's my family, and after the way she's treated me I'll talk to her however I want to if it's necessary. If anyone should be fired around here, it's you, stepping in on our business! You’re a friggin’ bitch! You're just a golf instructor. Not a family therapist. Back off!”
Mark almost wanted to laugh. Anybody who had met Erica knew better than to talk to her like that. She was a spitfire who would never let anyone talk down to her, or insult her. Or disregard what she did for a living. She was a scratch golfer. A tiger who knew how to swing a club. Or a bat. Or simply just come out swinging. Suddenly he didn’t feel the need to rush over to them anymore.
“I'm also Christine's friend,” Erica snapped. “And as her friend, I actually give a damn about her, something you don't seem to do. Which means I'm not going to stand here and watch you treat her like trash.”
“Erica,” Christine interjected, voice soft. “I think that—”
Her mother rounded on her. “You stay out of this! I'm dealing with this tramp.”
Mark saw Christine's expression change, the timid uncertainty suddenly chased out by anger, and he thought he saw the person Jamie had warned him about back when he had first met her, before Christine had changed. But it was only there for an instant, and then she was shrinking down into herself again. Mark reached them, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She startled around to look at him, and then relaxed into the touch when she saw who was there. He wasn’t so lucky in stopping her mother, though.
“You may think you're Christine's friend, but you don't know anything about her! You've known her for what? A year? Less than that? She didn't used to be the way she is now. She used to be the perfect daughter. I really don't know what's gotten into her, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you stick your giant nose into our business.”
“My giant nose?” Erica scoffed. Her eyes flicked away from Christine's mother for just long enough to take in Mark with his arm around Christine's shoulders, and for an instant Mark was afraid that the old jealousy would come back, but it seemed that spending time with Christine had changed her mind about the other woman, because Erica just gave him a nod of approval before she looked back at the object of her disdain. “I could stoop to your level and say a few things about your physical features, many that looks cosmetically enhanced by the way, but I'm not going to because it's ridiculous and completely unrelated to what I've been saying. Which is that you need to treat your daughter with respect, or you need to leave.”
“You don't have any say in whether I stay or not!”
“No,” Mark said calmly, stepping forward with Christine still tucked against his side. “But I do. Because I own Little Lake Country Club, and I have the right to refuse service to anyone I choose. And that means you. You can leave on your own, or I’ll have you escorted out.”
She whirled to face him, looking at Christine and then up at his face, and her lips pressed into a thin line. She looked back at her daughter. “Are you really going to let him treat me like this?” she demanded. “Your own mother?”
“I asked you,” Christine said, shoulders squaring under Mark's arm as she drew herself to her full height and stepped away from him, “to please wait to have this conversation until we were somewhere private. I told you I was at work and that you couldn't make a scene. You didn't listen to me. You never have. So, yes, if Mr. Reid says you're not allowed at the club, there's nothing I can do about it. I'll be happy to talk to you on the phone, or somewhere not so public, but we're not going to talk any more today.”
The former Mrs. Connors stared at her daughter for a long moment, obviously shocked by Christine's reply, and then she turned away. “Fine,” she hissed. “We'll talk about it later, because this conversation is
not
finished, Christine. Not in the slightest. We're going to have the rest of it, and we're going to have it soon, before you get any more awful ideas into that head of yours. This family is fucked. Thank goodness I left it.”
She stalked away, and the three of them stood there watching her go until she had gone up over the ridge into the parking lot, and then Christine dropped her face into her hands, her shoulders hitching up like she was hiding a sob.
“Hey,” Erica said, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Christine.
The smaller woman stiffened for a moment in Erica's arms, and then she sank into the embrace, wrapping her arms around Erica in return and burying her face against her shoulder. Erica looked up at Mark, her expression dark. She was more than a little angry, still, but he could tell that she was trying not to show it for Christine's sake, gently rubbing Christine's back with one hand.
“She's not allowed to come back here,” Mark said, stepping a little closer to the two of them. “I promise, Christine. If nothing else, you'll be safe from her at work, and if you need any help with dealing with her elsewhere, just call me. Because I'm not going to let her terrorize you. And neither will Jamie.”
“Neither will I,” Erica said firmly. “You can always call me, too, the same as you can Mark.”
“You're both much too nice to me,” Christine said, voice catching on the words. “I don't know why you bother.”
“Because that's what real family is for,” Erica said before Mark could speak. “I might not have married Mark yet, but that doesn't mean you're not already basically a sister as far as I'm concerned, and sisters take care of each other.”
“I never took care of Jamie,” Christine said. Her voice was muffled against Erica's shoulder. “I was so mean to her.”
“But you're not now,” Mark said. “You two have a great relationship, and it's just going to keep getting better. I promise. Alex and I had our differences, too, but we worked through them. We made it, and you've made it, and you have all of us to be the family you deserve, no matter what your mother thinks or says.” He stepped forward, and laid a hand on Christine's shoulder.