Chapter 9
Ian
I was still wandering around aimlessly when I realized I was damn near back home and standing right next to “our” Starbucks. I couldn’t help but to feel a sort of longing to go in.
I’d already been gone from work for a while, so I should’ve been getting back. But I cocked my head to look at the door a little more intently.
“What good is being CEO if there aren’t a few perks?” I whispered to myself. I was sure I sounded like a crazy person, but surely, taking long lunches every now and again had to be a perk of the job.
I kept rationalizing it in my head, and the more I did, the more I was leaning toward just going through the door.
Work could wait; it wasn’t like I would end up staying until several hours after everyone else left anyway. Besides, what was I so worried about? Any chance that I had of running into Kate was minimal. It was lunchtime, she was likely dealing with the crisis with her sister, and I’d only seen her here in the mornings.
Feeling reassured, I gripped at the cold metal door and flung it open. The café wasn’t as busy as it usually was during the morning rush, and I was glad for it. Peace and quiet seemed to be just what I needed.
I took a couple of steps to get in line, and that’s when I saw it. One of the three people in front of me had a head of very familiar fiery red hair.
It couldn’t be. Shit. Kate.
My first instinct was to walk over and grab her, wrap my arms around her. My second was to turn on my heel and get the hell out of Dodge before she could see me. I was frozen in place, though. That’s when she glanced over her shoulder. It was like she was magnetically drawn to my face. We made eye contact, and in that moment I would have sworn my heart stopped.
I was like a deer caught in headlights.
And where I’d before been unable to take my eyes off of her, this time I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at her, not for longer than a second.
If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t really want to even be in the same space as her. Nothing had even begun to prepare me for the wave of emotions that choked me as soon as I’d seen her.
I couldn’t move. I sure as hell couldn’t speak.
Everything was different now. No matter how beautiful she was, there seemed to be a foul taste in my mouth as soon as I so much as thought about her.
She was a Murphy.
She watched me, her forehead scrunched in confusion. She could tell that something was wrong as we danced a waltz of emotional stares in the middle of Starbucks.
She smiled. Normally when that happened, I felt overjoyed. I loved that smile. Even though I’d barely seen it, I found myself missing it since meeting her. But not this time. This time, I felt disheartened. I couldn’t even return it.
“Hey.” Her voice was gentle, a voice that, until yesterday, I thought I’d be over the moon to hear every day.
It was a voice so sweet, yet full of promise and mystery. It was a voice I had loved hearing, but now all it did was alarm me. I felt shaken. She immediately took me to a place of emotion, and right now, I couldn’t handle emotion. I especially couldn’t handle emotions that I didn’t understand. Still, I couldn’t stand here like a complete idiot. I wasn’t a coward.
I didn’t know what to say as I approached her. I took my steps slowly, hesitating with each one. I probably looked like an absolute wreck. I felt like an imbecile, just staring at her without saying a damn word. Even though I wasn’t a coward, I probably looked like one as I took these baby steps toward her. I was terrified, slumped like a cowering dog, as I walked toward a girl almost half my size. But I had no fucking clue what to say to her. What was my excuse for not texting her back? For avoiding her? Did I tell her? Did I keep her guessing? Did I act like nothing was wrong at all?
Would I even be able to act like nothing was wrong?
Her expression changed from happiness at our chance meeting, to suspicion. What on earth must be going through her head? She certainly realized that I’d been ignoring her, and now, something had to happen. I couldn’t simply pretend that I hadn’t meant to leave her texts unanswered.
I soon found myself right in front of her — so close that I could smell her floral fragrance. My heart was racing, and mind whirling.
“Hi,” I managed, a little breathily as I struggled to stay calm. Why the hell was my heart beating a thousand miles per minute? I never felt like this, not even when I was standing in front of a boardroom filled with billionaires. I wondered if I should just bite the bullet and tell her. Rip the bandage clear off.
My mind was on overdrive as I debated back and forth with myself. I wanted to act like nothing was wrong. I wanted to make it seem like she was crazy forever believing that I’d ever even imagine blowing her off. I wanted to just pretend like I was busy forever so I never had to face what I knew to be inevitable.
But as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I noticed her face growing pink, and her eyes narrowing. Even if I had been able to come up with the words to say, seeing her expression made me stop and wish I could run for the hills.
“What the hell is going on with you right now, Ian? You’re kind of acting like an ass,” she barked, ignoring the other people in the coffee shop.
Instinctively, I stepped back. “Excuse me?”
“You are being an asshole,” she said slowly as if I was an idiot who couldn’t understand her words. But at least she’d lowered her voice just slightly. “You’re stereotyping mental illness like it’s something absolutely terrible, like it’s something wrong!”
“I’m what?”
“You judged her—you judged me—and I can’t believe it! Not after the day we had yesterday at the hospital.”
In a low voice, almost a whisper, I said, “What the hell are you talking about?”
My eyes had to be wide, like a deer caught in headlights. I sure as hell seemed to be paralyzed like one. If anyone else had come out with some sort of personal attack like this, I would have already turned around and walked away. I didn’t usually take shit like this. But this was Kate, and for some reason, my feet stayed planted. Whatever this was, I needed to see it through.
Her fists were clenched at her side, and her face was still flushed. “I just can’t believe you pretended like you cared all damn day at the hospital, acting all smooth and understanding. Then, out of nowhere, you stop texting me, and don’t try to deny it because that look of guilt on your face says it all! So, it seems like you’re judging not only my sister, which is bad enough, but you’re judging me!”
I blinked, slowly, deliberately, hoping that she’d see and realize how completely ridiculous she sounded.
She seemed oblivious, because she continued, “I wish you’d just stayed put, and not acted so sweet if you were really a steamy pile of assfunk!”
“Assfunk?” I repeated. “What the—” part of me wanted to be mad and part of me wanted laugh in her face. But I didn’t finish questioning her choice of insults. As pissed as I was getting because she was jumping to conclusions, I also couldn’t help thinking how adorable she was when she was cussing me out.
Instead, I shook everything away, took a deep breath and took a step toward her. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know where all this shit was even coming from, or how she could think that Claire was any reason for my distance. I had sat there all day at the hospital. She was right. But it sure as hell wasn’t because of Claire if I was willing to spend my time like that.
I was the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company. I didn’t usually just take the day off like I had that day. Not only that, but I wasn’t the type of man to waste my time, even if I didn’t have so many responsibilities. Plus, I hated hospitals—their smell, their look, and the fact that time always got lost — I hated it all. But I’d stayed there all afternoon and into the evening.
I felt like the old saying, “actions speak louder than words” should have given off the fact that I didn’t give a damn about Claire’s mental illness. Then again, Kate’s rampage was proof that she had no idea who I really was. That meant she really didn’t know all of those things about me. The only way she was going to know was for me to tell her.
“I don’t care about your sister,” I said.
Her eyes flew open in a wide surprise, and her face reddened even more.
“I mean, I do care,” I corrected, realizing what I’d said. “I mean, I don’t care about the problems she has. They don’t bother me.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to figure out what it was that I wanted to say. I was vaguely aware of the people around us, and a part of me wondered what they thought of our argument. But it was a very small part of me.
“I mean, we all have problems, in some way or another, Kate,” I said, as I pushed my hand through my hair in frustration. “Which is what brings me to what the issue really is.”
I took a deep breath, just trying to work up the nerve to end it. It had to end, and drawing it out, leaving things unresolved, was not going to work.
“We have a problem.” I said. “A big one.”
She looked at me, concern and confusion battling on her face.
“It has to do with your dad.”
Her eyebrows scrunched and she looked even more confused.
“Your dad is Michael Murphy,” I said, but by the look on her face, I knew she didn’t understand. “I just found out!”
“You’re not making any sense,” she said. “Yes, my dad’s name is Michael Murphy. ”
“I know,” I said, but her admitting to it almost made it worse. I tossed my arms in the air, feeling defeated. I didn’t care what sort of blabbering idiot I looked like in the middle of the coffee shop. I really didn’t know how else to say it, or how to explain it so that she knew.
“Maybe you should just take a deep breath, Ian,” she suggested, “because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I did just that — took a deep breath, just like she’d said, and began again. “I am the CEO of MTS Incorporated, which is the largest competitor to BioResearch Labs.”
A man behind us said loudly, “Well good for you, asshole! But let’s get this line moving or take that shit outside!”
It reminded me of the first time we met, when I’d held the line up after forgetting my wallet like an idiot. Only this was worse. It probably looked like we were having a straight up domestic in the middle of Starbucks.
I grabbed her quickly but gently, making sure not to raise any alarm bells to onlookers, and moved her away from the man, and everyone else behind us. There’d been a huge gap in front of Kate, where the line had moved, but she hadn’t moved with it. I was trying to close it, and at least calm the people around us down. As soon as she stood, inches from the person in front of her, though, I started again. I wanted to figure out a way to make some sort of sense out of it and tell her what was going on. Because as it stood, she was looking at me like I was fucking crazy.
Maybe I was. I was absolutely crazy for her, and the situation was driving me crazy with stress. I hated Michael Murphy more than anything, and I hated that he was her dad.
“Michael Murphy, your asshole father, and my father, John Cross, hated each other.”
Her eyes flickered with a small glimmer of recognition and she nodded faintly. Even if she didn't have anything to do with the business, she still had to have known who my dad was. My dad and her dad had been bitter rivals for as long as either of them could even remember — years and years before my dad had passed away and well before any sort of lawsuit.
Her mouth opened and closed and I could tell that she was searching for words. But there weren’t any. There was nothing left to say. From here, I knew she could put together the pieces.
The silence lapsed between us, until the barista cleared his throat, and called out, “Ma’am?”