The Collision on Hardwood Drive (18 page)

I couldn’t even begin to fathom what I was going to say to Rob. He humiliated me. Just when I started to let myself be happy, to enjoy falling for this incredible man, I was slapped in the face. I fell for it so easily, never even questioning why he’d offer to fix my car, why he was so interested in me without even knowing anything
about
me. I guess he knew all he needed to know—I stood in his way of becoming the majority shareholder of GI, and therefore, I needed to be silenced by any means necessary.

Rob called two more times that night, though he stopped leaving messages. A bitter voice at the back of my head nagged at me, telling me he was probably relieved finally to drop the charade of liking me—
loving
me. He was probably on his way back into the arms of the supermodels he’d neglected for me over the past few nights.

My phone rang twice more. It was Claire again at eight-thirty—no message—and surprisingly, Joe.

“Hi, Stephanie. It’s me, Joe. I hope you’re well. Listen, I, uh, just wanted to congratulate you on the premiere. You were great. Maybe we could grab another coffee soon. Um, I’d love to see you, hear about what you’ve been up to. Catch up, you know, and… OK, well, give me a call. Bye.”

I couldn’t he
lp cringing. He sounded so awkward, so uncomfortable. He was the opposite of Rob. I couldn’t stand the thought of talking to anyone right now, whether he was Rob or the anti-Rob.

*

The next day, Rob called again—and again—and
again
. My phone showed me eighteen missed calls by three p.m.

Look, crazy, I don’t want to
talk to you. Take a hint.
I wondered how long it would go on. The calls were aggressive; to me, they said,
I don’t care that you don’t want to speak to me; I want to speak to you
. It only pissed me off further.

After the nineteenth missed call, I finally picked up the phone. My anger hadn’t subsided—rather, it had grown. I had been right to doubt him. Men like Rob would never place someone else’s needs before their own. They were selfish and arrogant and not worth my time.

Desperate, I decided I was ready to give Joe another chance. He might be boring and might not be the smoothest operator, but he wasn’t beating down my door trying to force me to speak to him. And he probably wasn’t a liar.

His phone rang just once before he picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Stephanie. I got your message yesterday.”

“Stephanie, hi!” he said, so brightly that I could nearly see the smile lighting his face. “Look, I’m sorry about last time. I was just thinking maybe we could—”

“I’d love to go to coffee,” I said, blurting it before I could change my mind. “When’s good for you?”

“Oh! Great!” He sounded surprised. “What about tomorrow? About ten or eleven?”

“Sure,” I said. I felt strangely tired. I knew in my heart that I didn’t want to go to coffee with Joe. I didn’t want to go anywhere with anyone, but—Joe deserved another chance, and so did I. Maybe we deserved each other.

“Excellent,” he responded, sounding more excited than I’d ever heard him. “Where should I meet you?”

“How about Raymond’s again? At eleven?”

He agreed and told me he looked forward to it. I parroted the sentiment back to him. I didn’t really mean it, but I was happy to have any excuse to get my mind off Rob. Anything, any
one
. I wanted to be around a man who would never use me, who was honest and reliable. I didn’t want any surprises.

I dropped my phone and crawled back in bed, hoping I could muster more enthusiasm for this date by tomorrow. Joe deserved that, at the very least.

*

I walked into Raymond’s to find Joe already sitting at a corner table with two steaming cups in front of him. He stood to hug me, and he placed an awkward kiss on my cheek that ended up landing somewhere near my ear. I tried to feel more optimistic about this, and strangely, I did—anger was a great motivator.

“I ordered you a latte,” he said, a bit shyly. “It’s what you had last time. I’m a good listener.”

I smiled, touched by the gesture. He was certainly more thoughtful than
someone
whose name I refused to let in my mind. “Thanks, Joe,” I said as I took a seat.

After we settled in, he spent several minutes praising my performance. “I didn’t even know you watched the shows,” I said surprised.

It suddenly occurred to me—what if he had seen Rob’s extravagant gesture at the end of the show? Had he been part of the cheering audience?

He looked slightly embarrassed, that shy smile reappearing on his lips. “I try to watch the premiere, at least. I had to leave at intermission, though. I wanted to see the rest, really,” he said quickly, as though he was worried I would be offended by his early departure.

I smiled reassuringly. “I’m glad you saw some of it. The set was even more beautiful than last year.”

“Thanks, Stephanie! That really means a lot to me. Listen, I’ve been thinking…” He trailed off. He seemed nervous, so I nodded encouragingly, trying to get him to continue.

“I’ve been thinking about me and you,” he said finally. Surprised that he’d said something somewhat forward, I said nothing. He must’ve taken that as a good sign.

“So, we have fun together, right? I listen to you; I get you the coffee you like. You like me, right?”

I nodded, less encouragingly now. Joe’s tone was less asking-a-girl-out and more asking-your-boss-for-a-raise. It was weirdly businesslike.

“OK. Look. I think we should take our relationship to the next level. Stephanie, do you want to come to my place tonight for drinks, and, uh…” He gestured with his hands, apparently wishing to indicate
and then I’ll do sex to you,
or something like that. “...you know,” he finished lamely.

“Do I really, though? Do I know?” I said, not wanting to answer. Now, I knew where Joe’s transactional tone was coming from. He seemed to think the exchange was
I pretend to listen to whatever it is you’re yammering about, and then, you reward my behavior with sex
.

Joe opened his mouth to respond, probably wishing to negotiate the offer (“Well then, how about a blowjob? Hand job? Just the tip?”) when two large hands appeared around his neck, yanking him backward and sending him flying out of his chair. His chair clattered to the floor, startling the other customers in the coffee shop. Rob had Joe pressed against the wall.

I felt rage rise in my throat like an overflowing bathtub. A bathtub of anger. “What the fuck are you
doing,
you psycho?” I screamed. “Let him go!”

Rob whirled to face me, not loosening his grip on Joe one bit. “What am
I
doing? What the fuck are
you
doing, Stephanie? Is this asshole the reason you haven’t been returning my calls?

He sounded furious, which in turn tripled my wrath. How
dare
he? How dare he follow me around and accuse
me
of being in the wrong here?

Joe began to make these tiny, choked animalistic noises on the ground, eyes gleaning over with a child’s fear. “Please… please, let me—
go
.”

“Rob, get
off
him.
Now
,” I demanded, my voice matching the steely anger of his. “Do not think for one second that I won’t call the cops on your dumb ass.”

Quiet whimpers continued to escape Joe’s mouth. Rob stood, finally, to glare at me. Joe took the chance to scramble to his feet, snatching his satchel and bolting from the restaurant without another look back at the two of us. I was disgusted with them both—the villain and the coward.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, gritting my teeth. “You can’t just go around
assaulting
people!”

“You ignore me, and then I see you drinking coffee with other men?” he shouted back at me. “Who the hell is that guy?”

“I
work
with him, Rob,” I said, even though I knew I didn’t owe him an explanation. “Not that it’s
any
of
your
business. You are unbelievable; you know that? Anything you think we had—it’s over.”

His shoulders dropped instantly. Probably just another act, though. I wouldn’t put anything past him at this point. “I—”

I didn’t give him a chance to finish spewing his lies. I felt as if the walls were closing in on me. Spots began to appear in the corners of my vision. I needed to get the hell out of there. Grabbing my bag, I shoved my way out the front door. The chime of the bell sounded like hysterical laughter to my ears, mocking the tears in my eyes.

Rob, predictably, chased me down the block. I kept walking, almost running, and hoping the Earth would swallow him whole.

“Stephanie!” he yelled as he reached out, catching my right arm and spinning me to face him. “
Hey
! What the
fuck
? You can’t just suddenly stop returning my calls.”

“Oh,
really
?” I laughed sarcastically. “Let me make one thing clear—you are
done
manipulating me. If I decide to stop returning your calls, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He l
ooked crushed, a flash of sadness passing his face again. “Steph, I don’t understand…”

“I think you do. I think you understand better than anyone here,” I told him, my voice growing colder and colder with each word. “You were the one who hit me that night. Does that make it clear enough? Or were you so drunk you don’t even
remember
.”

His eyes shot open, and he seemed to stop breathing. “How did you—”

I scoffed, ripping my arm out of his hold. “At least you’re not denying it, but if you think that’s going to make up for what you did—well. Get away from me, Rob.”

I turned to bolt, trying to hide the tears in my eyes, but I didn’t get far before I felt him grab me again. “Stephanie,
stop
. We’re going to talk about this.”

I spun, rage stamped all over my face. “Talk about what?
What
? About how you
lied
to me? How you
keep
lying to me?”

“Just hear me out,” he said. I could tell he tried to make it sound like a demand, but I could also hear pain in his voice.
Good
, I thought. He deserved to hurt the same way he hurt me.

“You have two minutes,” I said against my better judgment, “and you’d better make it good, because these might be the last words you’ll ever speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, a flash of devastation crossing his damned beautiful face, his typical stoic demeanor replacing it quickly. “I had a few drinks, fine, but I wasn’t drunk.”

“You were drunk enough to crash your
car
!” I shouted as a fresh wave of anger ran through my veins. “You could have
killed
me!”

“Damn it, Steph,” he said, keeping his voice as level as he could. “I dropped my phone. I reached over to get it. I took my eyes off the road for
one
second—”

I scoffed, not even willing to listen to his eyes. I looked away as he searched my eyes for understanding, knowing that he wouldn’t find any there.

“Steph, I barely had anything to drink, I swear—”

“You
swear
?” I repeated, scoffing in disgust. “Fine. Then, if you weren’t drunk, why didn’t you just tell me the truth? The cops would understand if you
weren’t drunk
.”

“Because—!” He stopped and drew in a slow breath when he realized he had raised his voice again, trying to regain his composure. “If there had been any trace of alcohol in my system, I would have lost everything.”

“And that justifies it
all
, does it?” I snarled. “That’s really classy, Rob. Seduce the stupid broad you hit and keep your company, right? I get it. I’m just another pawn in your quest to gain control of the board.”

I felt my temples throbbing, a migraine coming, but I couldn’t stop now—couldn’t just walk away. “How long were you planning to keep this charade going, huh? You met my
family
, Rob, but I guess that’s just the norm for you. So, what, as soon as you are voted in, I am booted out? Is that it?”

“
No
,” he said, his voice twisting into a snarl to match mine. “Yes, I didn’t want you to call the cops. Yes, I took care of everything to keep the insurance companies out of it. But from the second you stepped in my house,
it
was all real. Damn it, Stephanie, you think I needed to pretend to have
feelings
for you to convince you not to go to the cops?”

I rolled my eyes. Even if he
was
making a good point, which he
wasn’t
, it was too little too late. “You
used
me. You knew I was out of it after the crash, so you took advantage of the moment and made me
care
about you, and—
fucking hell
, Rob. I can’t believe I fell for it.”