Learning to Let Go (24 page)

That asshole! Who does he think he is? I strip my heart bare on the table for him, even indulging in some of his wilder fantasies, which I have to admit make my body come alive, and how does he repay me? The son of a bitch up and pushes me back, holding me at arm’s length
again
. Well, two can play at this game. I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine; maybe a little distance will do him good.

I had cried myself out in the shower, but found a new resolve, determined to give him a taste of his own medicine by playing his game and showing him what he could be denied. I was confident that I could win him back. I was relieved to find that he’d left his bedroom and that he hadn’t picked out an outfit for me to wear. I was so tired of him dressing me up like a damn Barbie doll. He would always try to reason with me, “I just like to see you wear certain things, especially the skirts and garters, where I can have easy access to you any time I want,” but it was bullshit. He just liked to be controlling, which was beginning to really piss me off! I didn’t mind the control in the bedroom, but outside of it…I WAS IN CHARGE OF MY OWN LIFE!

The thought sent a shiver through my spine. Ever since I’d returned to work and was in the office next door, he took advantage of that easy access, closing and locking my office door, lifting my skirts and pressing me against the desk, wall, or any other surface he could think for us to christen. Work was definitely interesting, but tonight I’d wear what I wanted, and while the logical side of me told me to wear a suit dress, the wilder side decided on a seductive black lace push up bra and thong with a matching garter belt and nude silk stockings, a gray pencil skirt and a purple satin blouse with a hint of cleavage.

To throw an extra fire to the flame I’d tease him with, I decided on wearing one of my favorite pairs of pumps, which he had added to my shoe collection for his private viewing only. They were black, stiletto, alligator-like leather with a playful gold handcuff around the ankle and a gold key that zipped up the back. I’d up the ante by putting my hair up into a loose twist and updo. It looked professional for the meeting, but he always insisted on me leaving my hair natural, letting it curl around my shoulders and down my back.

I wore my usual jewelry, the necklace my parents had given me along with the diamond studs and the bracelet Garrett gave me for graduation. I would’ve rather worn a different bracelet, but ever since Chase attacked me the last time, Garrett had changed the design of the bracelet to be closed with a small diamond-encrusted miniature lock. I’d questioned why, but he claimed that the bracelet had popped off in the scuffle with Chase and the jeweler suggested the change to ensure it didn’t get lost again.

I used the house phone to call downstairs to see where he was. I was thankful to learn he was working out in the room down the hall. I took my copy of the paperwork, my laptop, purse, and anything else I could think of, down to my special room and left him a note on his bedside table:

Deidre caught me sneaking downstairs and asked if I’d like to have brunch, since I’d already missed breakfast. My emotions were on edge and I didn’t really feel like eating, but after some convincing, she offered a light fruit salad and some soup as an option.

“Sure, that sounds amazing,” I relented. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, so just knock and leave it outside the door, please. Thanks.”

I reviewed the plans from the Williamston group over and over again, feeling that I was missing something. They appeared sound and their prosthetic ankle was similar to the joint design I used for the wrist, but something was off. I kept pulling apart every piece of the design when I remembered they’d sent over a video of a couple of test subjects trying the prototype. One subject had been born without the lower portion of her ankle and foot, while the other suffered an accident in the military and had that portion of his leg blown off.

I pulled up the video and watched carefully as they put the test subjects through vigorous tasks. They had to walk normally, applying full weight to the prosthetic, along with climbing up and down a small set of steps. The video opened with their first trial of the apparatus and advanced to several months down the road. The prosthetic itself held up, but I noticed a noise whenever the patient would put their full weight on the ankle joint.

The afternoon passed quickly and I put together the findings of my report, confirming that the ankle prosthetic had merit and would be of benefit to the company. However, I listed some reservations that I’d like to discuss with the design team to get a better understanding of things.

I refused to open the door to him or answer my phone when he called, insistent that I discuss my hesitance with him prior to the meeting. He hadn’t bothered to contact me in over five hours and a couple of phone calls and knocks at the door demanding I open up wouldn’t cut it; he could wait a little while longer.

“Don’t think this won’t go against your review, Laurel,” he cajoled. “You don’t withhold information from me right before a meeting.” His voice was furious, screaming through the door.

My temper flared and I couldn’t help firing back, “But apparently it’s okay for you to hold back information from me until you decide I’m worthy enough to know. You’ve kept me in the dark and you keep toying with my emotions like I’m a damn yo-yo. Well, I hope you’re happy getting a taste of your own medicine.”

His fist landed hard on the door, nearly knocking it loose from the frame. “Don’t push me, Laurel!” The warning was evident in his voice, but what could he do, fire me? Push me out into the street? Hurt me anymore than he already had? I was tired of playing his games, having my emotions tossed around. As Grace’s father often said when faced with some overwhelming challenges, “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“I’ll push if I want!” I blasted back at the top of my lungs. “But I’m not the one calling the shots on this. I’ve already put in a couple of calls to their designers and they haven’t called me back. Something has been nagging at me regarding the design and I want to talk to them first before jumping to conclusions.”

I heard him let out a loud sigh. “Fine. We’ll address it in the meeting tonight. Be ready to leave in one hour.”

I was thankful to hear his footsteps retreat from the door. I took some notes on the location of the issues in the video so I could bring them back up for review in the meeting. Plus, I pulled up some research on what kinds of metals their company typically used in their designs. I wanted to have all the facts and ammunition I needed to argue my concerns and see why they were so reluctant to return my calls.

There was nothing more for me to work on or contemplate, so my mind began to drift to the issues of being truthful with people. It made me realize that I had an important phone call that couldn’t be put off any longer. I knew my mother was done sleeping off the night shift at the hospital and my father was going in early for projects and should be home already. The time for waiting was over.

Almost an hour and several shared tears later, I got off the phone with my parents and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. My eyes were a little red, but thankfully not puffy, and my makeup was still fully intact.

I had been right initially as to my parent’s response about what happened to me; they didn’t believe me. I had to pull Grace and Donny into the conversation for them to finally listen to everything I had to say, but, all in all, I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders after they apologized, making me realize that our family had been suffering from a simple lack of communication. At least we ended on good terms and promised to try and be better at talking with one another.

A sharp knock at the door brought my attention back to the here and now. “We need to leave.” Garrett’s gruff voice filtered through the doors as he tried to open the handle, only to discover that I still had it locked.

“I’ll be right there,” I replied sweetly. I took one last look in the mirror before grabbing my stuff, opening the door, and barreling right into his chest. I started to lose my balance on the high heels I was wearing when his arms came around my waist and held me tight.

His eyes scanned up and down my body, assessing what I had on. “You look beautiful tonight. However, I don’t agree with your choice in shoes and you know I like your hair down.”

“It’s not your choice to make. You lost that when you decided to push me away.”

I waited for a rebuttal, but he only shook his head, replying, “It’s complicated.”

My breasts pressed up against his chest in an attempt to draw his attention as I narrowed my eyes at him with the hardest stare I could muster. “The only person making it complicated is you!” I hissed.

If his facial expression didn’t give it away, his body language did. He jumped back, eyes wide, not realizing that when I was shoved far enough, I could push back. I’d been weak up until the point I met Garrett, but he’d given me the courage, along with some insistence from Grace, to stand up for myself. He wanted this, so he’d get it tonight.

His lips pressed into a hard line. I could tell Mister in Control of Everything wanted to fight with me, to argue a point. I knew how my feistiness sometimes turned him on and one look at his dress pants already indicated that I was doing just that. He was sporting a nice tent now.
OMG, why did I just stare at his crotch?
That gray suit that makes him look so powerful, so handsome. Instead of reacting and pushing me against the wall and having his way with me like our encounters in the past, he stepped aside and motioned towards the door.

“We need to leave,” he said cordially, ushering me out.

The ride to the arena was silent. I was surprised when we were dropped off at a VIP entrance and led to his personal suite. Just one glance at the lavishness made me forget that we were here to discuss business and watch a basketball game. There were huge flat screens on the wall with perfect viewing of the court below, several tables, chairs, and even a couple of sofas to discuss business or just relax. A private, en suite bathroom was off to the side and a mini-kitchen with refrigerator and marble countertops lined half a wall.

I heard the rattle of a food cart and turned to see a chef and some assistants come in to set up a buffet display along the countertop. The smell of Sterno filled the air as they ignited the flames. I wondered what was on for dinner tonight—did he go with something to impress or will he keep it simple since it’s a basketball game?
The thoughts left my mind as I heard, “Garrett, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Will Mr. Waters be joining us tonight?”

I turned to see Garrett shaking an older man’s hand heartily. “It’s nice to see you again, Tom,” he enthused. “I hate to say that Mr. Waters has been detained overseas dealing with some contract negotiations, so he’s left me to spearhead this discussion, though we will be joined by Mr. Waters’ brother. Speaking of which, here he is now.”

He motioned back towards Jonathan and made the introductions to everyone. I watched as Thompson and Dillon took up position one inside the suite and one immediately outside.
Was he just protecting the businessmen or was there a potential for Chase to show up?
He could easily blend into the crowd here, I guessed. It dawned on me that maybe that was the reason he was keeping me at arm’s length—if Chase had a chance to get to me, he didn’t want me hurt. He was still my hero riding in to save me, even if he kept his distance to do it.