Chapter Thirty-Six

Carrie

A sense of raw vulnerability suffocates me as Reid and I exit my apartment. I was right when I said that this man has a hand in every aspect of my life, quite literally, now that we’ve gotten personal, and that is the kind of control I have not allowed anyone in my adult life. And it is control. He could hurt me as easily as he saved me professionally. We step into the hallway and I can’t look at him. I’m angry at myself, and I’m not even sure why. It’s not about trusting Reid. I made that decision when I decided to stay and fight for the company by his side.

We step into the hallway and Reid shuts my door, making sure it’s locked up; protective, I decide. It’s not controlling, not at this moment. When he turns back to me, he is suddenly cupping my face, kissing me deeply, like he can’t help himself, like he can’t wait until we’re alone again, and it helps. I needed to feel his need, not just mine. “I will never use that information you just told me against you,” he promises. “I told you about the letter from my mother. You’re not out there on a ledge alone. I’m right there with you. This is all new to me, too.”

I’m stunned that he is this in tune with what I’m feeling that he even verbalized it in ways I had yet to do in my mind. “Is that where we’re at? On a ledge?”

“Yes, and we’ve decided we’re jumping together.” He strokes my kiss-dampened lips with his thumb. “Come on. I can’t wait to get you alone in the Hamptons, and to watch you charm Grayson.” He laces his fingers with mine and starts walking toward the elevator; his confidence in me affects me, pleases me, but it also feels like pressure.

“I hope I can,” I say as he punches the elevator call button.

“You not only can, you will,” he says. “He doesn’t have a chance to even think about saying no to working with us,” he adds, as we reach the elevator and the doors open to display a group of people crammed inside.

“We punched the wrong floor,” one of them says. “But join us for the ride down.” They make room.

Reid glances at his watch and nods, indicating time is an issue. We step inside and he pulls me in front of him, his hands on my shoulders, his big body framing mine. In this moment, I have this sense of us being a couple, not just fucking, for the first time. Are we a couple? Jumping off the ledge does mean that, right? The ride is short, and my unanswered question is left for later review, perhaps with Reid, not without him. The doors open and with Reid still holding onto me, we hurry out the front door, rather than the rear of the building where the car waits for us on the street. Once we’re inside, Reid pulls me close, our legs aligned, his hand on my knee, a warm sense of belonging together, wanting each other, between us. That vulnerability of minutes before is still here as well, but what I don’t feel is the resistance I’ve felt to falling for Reid. It’s too late. It happened somewhere in between him being an asshole and an asshole I started falling for, and it’s too late to stop it. Whatever this is happening between us has a life of its own, and it will not be stopped. I just pray “the end” isn’t hate. I don’t want to hate Reid ever again.

***

Once we arrive at the chopper site, Reid and I are quickly escorted to our ride and airborne in no time. The airtime is short and when Reid and I land in the Hamptons, a car is waiting on us. “Tell me more about Grayson,” I say, as our driver pulls us out of the small airport.

“He’s rich as fuck, demanding, arrogant, and honest.”

“He sounds like you.”

“He has about a hundred times more money than I will ever dream of having,” Reid says. “And I have a lot of money.”

“Wasn’t he on the Forbes list?”

“When wasn’t he on the list? He inherited his family fortune of ten billion, which he’s turned into twenty.” He squeezes my knee where his hand has settled once again. “We’ll settle for a one-billion-dollar investment.”

“In what project? I have nothing on the table that I think will entice him and that makes me nervous.”

“With his money, you find him a project, and promise him a thirty-percent return, that you turn into a fifty-percent return, so that he sees us as over-performing. Over-performing is the key.”

It’s at that moment that my cellphone rings. I grab it from my purse to find my father’s number on caller ID and as much as I hate to take it with Reid present, I need to talk to him, too. I need to know where he is now and what he’s doing. “Hello,” I say.

“Good news,” he says. “The land development deal here in Montana looks like a done deal.”

“What does that mean? What are we developing?”

“That’s what I want you to come here and talk about. This is not the traditional land development deal we’ve typically done. It’s a new twist on our old business.”

“I can’t go there. You know that.”

“Because you’re working with Reid Maxwell,” he says. “I told you—”

“This means everything to me,” I say. “Saving the company means everything to me.”

“And if he’s taunting you?”

“He’s not and I need you to trust my judgment on that. I need to make this happen. I need you to support me. I can still support this new endeavor of yours, but support me in this. Please. If you love me—”

“If? You’re my daughter. You’re everything to me.”

“And yet, you have secrets,” I say, letting that comment, better spoken in private, slip out with my frustration. “Secrets that impact me.”

“Everyone has secrets,” he says without the denial I’d hoped to hear.

“I don’t,” I say. “I don’t have secrets.” That frustration balls in my chest. “I have a big meeting. I have to go, but we need to have a real conversation.”

“I’ll come there.”

“No,” I say quickly. “No, don’t come here. If you do that right now, it could complicate things in ways that aren’t in any of our best interests. Close your deal.”

“Our deal.”

“Okay. Our deal. I love you. Good luck and wish me luck.”

“Yes,” he says. “All the luck in the world, daughter. I do love you.” He disconnects and I stick my phone back in my purse. “Never promise more than you can deliver, and always deliver more than you promise,” I say, going back to my prior conversation with Reid, but the comment isn’t about that conversation, but rather the one with my father. “I get it,” I add, looking at Reid, his blue eyes already fixed on me, “My father said the same. My father was good at his job, Reid.” I cover his hand on my leg. “I need you to tell me what you haven’t told me. I need to know what you know and I don’t know.”

He lowers his voice. “This isn’t a conversation for here and now, or before our meeting.”

“But it is a conversation we have to have,” I reply, softer now myself. “We have to have it.”

The car halts in front of a sprawling white mansion illuminated in the dark. “We’ll talk later,” he replies, opening the door, and then he’s stepping outside, offering me his hand.

I fight frustration over him putting me off for logic. Of course, he put me off. We’re at Grayson’s mansion. I slide my hand into his palm and he pulls me to my feet, and out of the way to shut the door. A moment later, his hands are on my waist. “Your father doesn’t know me. He knows of me. You know me and I’m not taunting you.”

“You heard.”

“The entire conversation. You can trust me, Carrie.”

“I know that,” I say without hesitation.

“I don’t think you do, and I don’t expect that you can yet, but I’m going to change that. Consider that a promise.” He turns us toward the mansion, his hands settling at my back, and in contrast to the word “trust,” the word “secret” plays in my mind. I’m not sure how he thinks his vow of trust works when we both know he knows my father’s secret, just as we both know that he’s not going to tell me.