Chapter Thirty-One - Nolan
Claudette comes bursting into my office, making the door bang into the stopper, pissed off as all hell. It’s written all over her face.
“What’s this I hear? You’re taking a long weekend? Since when? We’re opening soon and you’re—”
“I’m very aware,” I say, cutting her off. “It’s my resort, Claudette. So I’m very aware of what’s on the agenda this week. But I don’t need your permission to take a few days off. I’m driving to San Diego, getting on a plane, and going to Martha’s Vineyard for a few days. The resort will be fine.”
Claudette cocks a hip and one hand goes to rest there. Ever since our last encounter out in Del Mar she’s been weird. Asking me all kinds of questions. Where am I going? Who was I with? Did I hear from “that Rockwell girl?”
I have not heard from that Rockwell girl. Not since I called her on Sunday and told her I’d be in town tonight. I half expected her to call me back and flat out say, Don’t bother. I’m not interested. And she didn’t, so I’m taking that as a good sign. I also half expected her to call the police and have them serve me with a restraining order.
But what I did not expect was an envelope, Overnight Express, delivered to me here at the resort on Tuesday afternoon, which stated…
I have to put a hand to my mouth because Claudette is still ranting about what the fuck ever and I can’t help but smile.
Which stated… her qualifications for becoming my personal marketing assistant.
It’s cute, actually. It even had a stack of colorful graphs and pie charts. A sneak peek, she called it in the letter, of what she was capable of.
She definitely has balls.
And while I’m impressed with her first attempt at a real-life business proposal—especially after the man she’s proposing it to told her he practically wanted to hold her down on the bed with a hand over her throat—the only business I’m interested in is the one where I rip the wet yellow dress down the middle while she stands in front of me shivering from the cold.
“You’re not listening to me.”
“You’re right,” I tell Claudette as I look over my schedule on my laptop. Everything is clear. The guests we had last weekend are gone now, Bram and Daniel are both working on their individual assignments, Claudette is here. “Look, I hire people to work for me, Claudette. People like Bram and Daniel, each of whom are getting paid a shitload of fucking money to do it. And you—”
“Don’t,” Claudette warns, pointing her polished nail at me. “Don’t you include me in your list of employees, Nolan. I’m a partner.”
“A very minor one, Claudette. I told you that when you offered me money. I didn’t need your money—”
“You did,” she snaps.
“It was nice to have the money, I’m not going to deny it. But I’ve been funding my businesses for a decade with no help from your side of the family.”
“It was your choice to be estranged from our father.”
“Was it, Claudette? Was it? No school was going to touch me after the charges were filed. Sitting around doing nothing for two years was preferable to starting my own business?”
“That’s not what he meant.”
“When he cut me out of the will when I said I wasn’t going back to school, I got the gist of what he meant, Claudette. So it was nice to have you on board with me. Nice, but nothing else. I don’t need another mother.”
Claudette’s lips press together. She hates it when I bring up my mother. “No,” she snarls. “I don’t suppose you do. You had one all growing up.”
“And you had a father. So don’t blame that on me. It wasn’t my fault you stayed with him.”
“She didn’t want me.”
“Well, he didn’t want me.” I laugh. “Same fucking shit.” I slap the laptop closed and get up, tucking it under my arm. “I’ve gotta pack. So,” I say, walking towards the door and sidestepping her attempt to grab me by my shirt. I grab her wrist instead, holding it tight. “Don’t,” I warn in a deep voice. “Don’t fucking start with me again, Claudette. I’m serious. If you get crazy, I will buy your ass out of this venture and wash my hands.”
“That’s what you want, don’t you?” The familiar shrillness of her voice is back. I’ve been wondering how long she’d last in this facade she puts on for the public. Claudette has always been high-strung. Like the goddamned thoroughbreds out at Del Mar. Temperamental, and spoiled, and demanding.
It’s her way or the highway. That’s practically her motto. We were as estranged as me and my father for years before she showed up six months ago acting all apologetic. And while I was suspicious, it was nice. It was nice to think that she might’ve calmed down over the years.
But I was wrong. She’s not any calmer now than she was back when we were kids.
“Every day you show me that you haven’t changed, Claudette, makes me want to walk away again. So be careful, sister. I’m not gonna put up with your meddling. Stay the fuck out of my personal life.”
“Or what?” she snaps.
“Or I’ll remove you from it myself.”
I let go of her wrist and push her out of my way, walking into the outer offices towards the stairs.
She follows, screaming. “Don’t do that, Nolan!”
Typical temper tantrum.
“Nolan, stop!” She runs at me, throwing herself into me, so we both collide with the railing of the stairs.
I look down and see the front desk girls looking up, surprised expressions on their faces.
I turn back to Claudette and seethe as I grab her by the shirt. “Lower your fucking voice. You will not start a scene here in front of my employees.”
She gasps and makes a lot of noise, so I let go and just walk down the stairs, doing my best to calm myself as I shoot the girls at the desk a warning look. “Get back to work,” I say as I pass them and make my way into the lobby.
“Nolan!” Claudette yells, following. “You promised me!”
Jesus Christ, here it comes. A full-on tantrum. I’m done with her.
I just keep walking as she screams, “I’m going to tell everyone what you did that night! Because you promised me!”
She’s the one who promised. I never promised her anything. She’s the one who needed to agree to my stipulations. She’s the one who said she’d never do this again. She’s the one who broke our agreement today. And she is the one who will pay the price.
I push through the lobby doors that lead to the pool, her yelling still echoing out behind me. A minute later she’s outside too, but I’m already walking back to the private residence area, and when I reach my bungalow, I go inside and lock the door.
She pounds on it, screaming the entire time I’m packing.
I want to fucking kill her right now. I want to get rid of her so bad.
When I’m packed, I call the valet to bring my car, grab my bags, and walk back out. Claudette is still yelling. I try my best to ignore her as I make my way back into the main lobby, but she is not easy to ignore when she’s having one of her meltdowns.
We’re just passing the front desk when she grabs my shirt, trying to make me stop. I push her and she goes reeling backwards in an exaggerated way, falling down on her ass.
Her makeup is all smeared down her face from her fake tears and I go hot all over. “You’re fucking fired,” I say, my anger boiling over. “You better be gone when I get back on Sunday, because you’re fucking fired.”
“Don’t do this again, Nolan!” she yells, making the biggest scene possible. “Don’t do this!”
But I just walk out. My Carrera is waiting, so I throw my bag on the passenger seat, get in, and drive away.
She’s not going to ruin this day for me. No goddamned way.
My phone rings again, but this time it’s not Claudette. It’s Mysterious. I tab the accept button on the car navigations system.
“Yeah?”
“Where are you?”
“On my way to San Diego. But I’m heading to Boston once I get there. You have something for me?”
“In person,” Pax says.
“I’ll be at the house on Martha’s Vineyard, but I’ve got plans tonight, Pax. Plans that require privacy and seclusion.”
“I’ll call when I get in and we’ll set it up.”