Chapter Thirty-Two
Lilah
After I'd double-checked that I'd packed everything I needed, I called Lilah to see that she was on schedule to leave.
“Hey, Lilah, are you and Meghan all set to go? Should my driver pick you both up from your place, or should he pick you each up from your own places?”
“I was just about to call you,” she replied. “There's a problem. Meg can't go. She's come down with something.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah,” she said. “She thought she ate some sushi last night that was a bit off, and when she got sick for the fourth time at work this morning, her boss insisted she go get checked out. She says she'll be fine, but she's stuck in a hospital bed the next couple of days because the doctor said she was not only dehydrated, but severely sleep deprived.”
“I'm sorry to hear that. Do you still want to go? I can't reschedule it, I'm afraid. At least, not for some time. You know how much work there is to get done over the next few months, and there are no more holidays or long weekends for a while.”
“I know,” she replied. “I told Meg I was going to stay here with her, but she argued with me and insisted I go. So, I guess it’s just you and me on the flight there. I’m sure I’ll find plenty to keep me busy, even without Meg there.”
I did my best to remain calm and collected, but inside I could hardly wait to have Lilah all to myself on the plane. Even if it was just for five hours. It was more time than I’d had with her combined in three weeks.
“Okay, then. I'll send my driver over to pick you up. Sorry again about Meg. I hope she'll be all right.”
“She’ll be okay. I’m more concerned about the nurses who will be taking care of her,” she joked. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
An hour later, we were in the air, just Lilah and I on my plane. I had employed two private flight attendants for the trip, but they had been given strict instructions to make themselves scarce unless called for through the intercom system. They had been doing just that.
As the captain was preparing to take off, Lilah and I lounged in our large, plush seats and talked about how the VIV perfume campaign was going and my thoughts on opening an office in Europe.
“Would you like a drink to get this little vacation started?” I asked.
“That sounds lovely,” she said with a smile.
So, I pressed the intercom button.
“What can I bring you, sir?” the flight attendant’s voice echoed back.
“I'll have a scotch on the rocks,” I said. “Lilah?”
“A glass of wine. No preference. Just surprise me.”
“Coming right up, sir,” the flight attendant replied.
She arrived shortly with the glasses, and I selected a movie to play on the big screen as we drank. By the time the movie had finished, Lilah and I had not only finished our drinks, but we’d also finished her bottle of wine and an entire bottle of champagne. I was pretty buzzed—buzzed enough that the filter on my mouth wasn’t working so great, and I asked about Savage.
“Lilah,” I said, “I know it's probably not the right time to talk about this, but . . . Look, I just have to ask. Savage: you're seeing him, aren't you?”
A mischievous smile crept over her beautiful lips. “He thinks I am.”
I gave her an inquisitive look. “You’re going to have to explain that one.”
“Look, I'm sorry for keeping you in the dark about this. Yes, I have been seeing him. But, it’s not what it probably looks like from the outside. I am actually on a fact-finding mission.”
I was taken aback. “A fact-finding mission?”
“Yep. I'm sure he's behind the leaked tweet and the break-in. I've gathered some insight that supports my thought process. I just need the proof,” she explained.
I felt a surge of satisfaction spreading through me as she talked.
“Maybe if we combine what you know with what my private investigator has discovered, we can build a solid case against Savage,” I said. “Please tell me you haven’t put yourself in any compromising situations, Lilah. I would never forgi—”
“Asher! Of course not! I haven’t even let the sleaze ball kiss me. He’s lucky I let him touch me at all.”
Relief set in. The last thing I wanted was for Savage to know anything intimate about Lilah. I didn’t want to share that with anyone, especially not him.
“I can't believe that you were doing this! You're . . . you're something else, Ms. Maxwell. I never should have doubted you.”
“Doubted me? What exactly have you been doubting?” she asked pointedly, putting me on the spot.
I was pretty quick though, even in my tipsy state. “That you would even give the likes of Brendan Savage a second thought. I really should have known you’d have a plan. How’d you get to be so resilient, anyway?” I asked with a cheeky grin.
“Growing up in a family of boys, without a mother, and being raised by a distant father. That's how,” she replied. A sad look entered her eyes.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “You know I can sympathize. Hell, I can relate. You’re the only person I've ever told about my situation growing up. Maybe I somehow knew you’d understand.”
“It wasn’t just my childhood,” she said. “I was . . . I was in love once. Madly in love.”
“Well that's a good thing, isn't it?”
“I suppose it could have been. But it wasn’t. And heartbreak has a way of making you or breaking you. I didn’t have a choice but to strengthen my resolve. It was that, or wither in a corner. In the end, love turned out to be an awful thing.” Her eyes fell to the empty glass in her hand.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, I placed all of my trust in one man. I gave him my heart, my soul. Everything. One month before we were supposed to be married, he destroyed me. Told me he'd found someone else. He left, and we haven’t spoken since. It broke me. It broke me into thousands of pieces.
“But it also made me stronger than I ever imagined I could be. I took all of that emptiness I'd had growing up and mixed it with the heartbreak, and I used that to focus my energy, my drive, my motivation. I became fixated with work and my career, and became absolutely dedicated to it. That's what got me where I am now.”
I nodded. “I'm sorry you had to go through that, Lilah. Do you think . . . do you think you could ever open your heart again?”
“Maybe. One day. But so far, it seems the past is always there, always waiting in the background to stir up the doubts. Isn't it like that for you, as well?”
“It is, sometimes. There's the shadow of my father, and how he behaved. The terrible thing he did to my mother. But there were other things. There was more.”
Tears began stinging my eyes and sadness tightened in my throat.
“More?” she asked gently. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t need to feel like you have to tell me. That’s personal and private.”
My gaze caught hers and a jolt of something I couldn’t explain shot through me. “Lilah, I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone,” I replied, my voice hoarse.
She reached over and squeezed my hand. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. That one simple touch gave me all the courage I needed to talk about my father—something I hadn’t done in years.
“My father wasn't just a drunk with a bad temper. He was a womanizer, too. With his money and his good looks, it was easy for him. While my mother was pregnant with me, he got another woman pregnant. He paid her off—paid her to have an abortion and disappear. She didn't even have any idea that he was already married, and that his wife was pregnant.”
“Wow. He sounds like—”
“He is,” I assured her before she could even finish the thought. Whatever her thought was, I had no doubt it was still too kind to describe my father.
“He’s the reason I have never imagined I’d have children of my own. That’s not the kind of bloodline I want to pass on.”