Chapter Five
Josh
She has to be fucking kidding me.
“Are you serious?”
I couldn't help but gape at Willa as she stalked around the bedroom, pulling clothes out of the closet and draping them over the bed. She threw a glare in my direction and crossed to her dresser, so she could pull lingerie and pajamas out and add them to the pile. Without bothering to answer me, she crossed to her bathroom and disappeared into it for several moments. When she emerged, she was carrying her toiletry bag and cosmetic case. Fully prepared with everything that she intended to pack, Willa dragged her luggage out from where it was stored beneath her bed and opened it across the pillows. This was the only time that she dared do anything that might interrupt the almost sterile perfection of her bedding, and the only reason for that was because she knew that the minute she was out of the house the staff would go to work and she would return to the pristine surroundings to which she was accustomed. She often behaved as though she thought that they got that way by some miraculous spontaneous cleaning from the house itself, refusing to acknowledge the people who spent their days ensuring that every inch of her home was immaculate lest she be offended by a wayward particle of dust or tilted throw pillow.
“I don't understand why you are reacting like this, Joshie,” she said.
I did my best not to cringe at the nickname that she thought was adorable and that I found nothing short of repulsive. She had started using it at the very beginning of our relationship and I had given up trying to convince her to stop about a year later. There were enough other things about her to aggravate me that I really didn't need to devote the time and energy to being frustrated by what she called me. I chose to believe somewhere in the depths of my mind that eventually she would realize that I was neither a toddler nor a small fluffy dog and would revert to just calling me 'Josh'.
“You don't?” I asked, genuinely stunned that she was playing dumb about the situation. “You are seriously going to stand there folding your underwear and pretend like you have absolutely no idea why I would be upset that you are choosing this week to just leave town.”
Willa sighed, dropping her hands and the peach silk camisole that they held into her suitcase as she closed her eyes, seeming to take a moment to compose herself.
“How many times do I need to tell you that the word 'underwear' is crude? Women like me wear lingerie, or panties. At the very least, underthings.”
I couldn't resist rolling my eyes at her.
“You spent all of spring break spinning around a pole and tearing them off whenever you had the chance, so I really think that the precedent for delicacy has been set way lower than you want it to be. So, let's just go ahead and end the underwear debate now.”
“There's no need for you to act like this,” she said, going back to folding the peach silk and settling it into place before picking up something pale blue that I didn't recognize. “You're the one who teamed up with my father to push getting ready for this season.”
“I didn't 'team up' with your father. I helped him come to a responsible business decision regarding the most influential and potentially profitable shopping season of the year.”
“And that's exactly what I'm doing. You turned in the ads before any of us got a chance to give them the final approval...”
“I don't need your approval, Willa. Don't forget that I own my business. The entire thing. You are still working under your father.”
She lifted her eyes to me and I saw that they had gone cold and sharp. She was stunning. There was no getting around that. She had the cultivated blond, blue-eyed beauty that looked perfect in the brochures for every country club and exclusive resort in existence. I couldn't deny that she looked fantastic in a slinky cocktail dress draped on my arm, and could charm just about anyone. Over the years, however, I felt like that beauty had dulled. It wasn't impressive to me anymore and there were times when it almost seemed as though it had been wasted on her.
“Not for long,” she said, her voice as cold as the look in her eyes. “You had to wait for your father to die to be able to take over your business, but I don't have to. As soon as we're married, we'll have the power to ensure that I am at the very top and I won't have to answer to anyone. Not a moment too soon, either. I know you worship my father, but even you have to have noticed that he's all but checked out over the last few months.”
“If you think that he's so useless, why are you even bothering to go with him?”
“I'm not going with him. He's going with me. As frustrating as it is, people still see his name and think that he's important, so I'll humor him by bringing him along.” I felt my eyes almost ache with the intensity of the glare shooting toward her. Willa noticed, and I saw her sigh, the look on her face going from stern to placating. She walked toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck, sighing as she smiled at me. “Oh, Joshie. I know that you're going to miss me. I'm sorry. But let's not fight. This is good for both of us. Don't you know that? Can't you see that I'm doing this for us? I want to make sure that everything is going well at the other anchor stores.”
She gave me a halfhearted squeeze and returned to packing.
“There are conference calls planned for Tuesday so that we can discuss the results of the entire shopping weekend,” I pointed out. “There's really nothing that you can do at this point to change anything.”
“It's a mindset like that that keeps you from reaching new levels of success.”
“You sound like my business textbook.”
She sighed and looked at me, her head shaking slowly back and forth as if she just couldn't fathom me being upset.
“I just really don't understand you. I thought that we both wanted this. We've talked nonstop about how incredible this season is going to be. It's going to be record-breaking. And it only goes up from there. But the only way that we can make sure that everything goes exactly as we want it to, is to go make sure that the managers of our primary stores are prepared to implement the new layouts and handle the release patterns for the timed sales. I can't just trust that to them, and I can't just trust anyone else to go check on them. I have to do it myself. I'm only going to be gone for a few days.”
“Willa, Thanksgiving is in three days.”
“I know. That's why it's so important that Father and I get out there now.” She flashed me one of the smiles that told me she was basking in the privilege that had defined her entire existence. “Can you imagine what it would be like if we were trying to fly commercial?” she asked with an arrogant chuckle. “It would be a nightmare.”
“Doesn't it bother you at all that we're not going to be able to spend Thanksgiving together?”
Usually it wouldn't bother me that she would be gone for a few days, but Thanksgiving had always been extremely important to me. I treasured the memories that I had of my family when I was younger, coming together to have dinner and watch our favorite Christmas movies. It was one of the few times of the year when I knew that my father wouldn't be working for at least five days and that we would get to spend that time together. He would work incredibly hard for the weeks leading up to Black Friday, but then he stopped for the holiday. He knew that there was nothing that he could do to change the results of the shopping days, and that hovering over the result updates that would come in over the course of the three days would do nothing but cause him more stress. Of course, that was before any stores would even consider being open on Thanksgiving and the concept of Cyber Monday hadn't even been created. Though our family consisted only of my parents and me, Thanksgiving felt special and it was something I had carried with me even after they died.
Now Willa was telling me that she and Wilton were going to be gone for the holiday. Alvin would still be in town, but even if he wasn't going to be spending the holiday with his girlfriend of the month I would have no interest in sitting down with him for the holiday. She finished packing and like magic, her driver stepped into the room to take her suitcase. I wondered if he had been standing in the hallway waiting to hear the sound of the zipper over our argument.
“Why didn't you tell me that you were leaving sooner?” I asked.
“Because I didn't know,” Willa said. “We just decided to go.”
“And you didn't even think of the possibility of me going with you.”
I realized even as I said it that I didn't really care that I wasn't going with her. I didn't want to go with her. What bothered me was that I had been delegated yet again to the sphere of disregard where she kept virtually everyone else. It was just understood that I had to deal with what she was doing and follow along with her instructions without question. She was so accustomed to everyone doing as she said and letting her get away with anything that she had stopped even pretending that my thoughts or opinions mattered.
“Why does this matter to you so much? I go on business trips all the time.”
“Not over Thanksgiving.”
She sighed and picked up her second bag. Her expression distinctly exasperated, she stepped up to me.
“I'm going to be back late that night. If it really matters this much to you, we can have turkey sandwiches or something. Now, I have to go. Father has the plane ready.”
She gave me a cursory kiss and stepped around me to rush out of the room. I listened to the sound of her footsteps running down the stairs and out of the house, then the door closing behind her. As soon as the engine faded in the distance, the housekeeper appeared at the bedroom door. She looked at me as if she wasn't expecting me to be standing there and wasn't sure what to do.
“Mr. Worthington,” she said. “I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were still here. Are you going to be staying while Miss Sommers is away?”
I shook my head.
“No. I'm leaving now.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
I looked at her, wondering what she would be doing on the holiday and if she would stay at Willa's house working even though Willa wouldn't be there. Hoping she wouldn't be, I walked out of the house and got into my car, heading back to the office to finish the work I had stopped to come to Willa's house when she called.
I should have just stayed.
I could still feel the tension of the scowl on my face when I arrived back to the office and stormed into the lobby. The receptionist looked startled and turned her back, picking the phone up to her ear in an imaginary conversation. Usually I would have stopped to talk to her, to check in about her new baby or to ask about her holiday plans, but I was too angry to carry on niceties with anyone. I continued across the lobby toward the elevator and stopped still in my tracks when I approached it. The framed painting of my father, done as a gift when he celebrated twenty years of running the company to coordinate with the one of my grandfather that was on the other side of the wall, seemed to stare at me. I remembered the pride that used to sparkle in his eyes when he walked through this office and the boisterous laughter that used to come from the office when he and Wilton were having meetings. They were both so energetic, so full of spirit. Wilton seemed so alive then. They had such ambitious plans for the future. They wanted so much for all of us.
The resolute feeling that I got every time I questioned my relationship with Willa settled into my chest again. I had to go through with it for him. I had to make sure that I did what needed to be done to accomplish what he wanted for me and for his company. I felt like I owed it to him. He had gone through so much and worked harder than anyone I had ever known his entire life to achieve all that he had, and I couldn't just throw that away.
Even as I thought that, though, my mind turned away from Willa and to thoughts of what I could do to stay at the Sommers office late that night so that I could see Cristina.