Chapter Ten
Scott
It was early Sunday morning as I waited at the Starbright Coffee Shop in Irvine for Megan, not terribly far from her apartment. I had chosen this coffee shop because I didn’t want her to have to take a bus or a cab to meet me. If she were to ask how I’d ended up in her neck of the woods, and without letting her know I knew exactly where she lived, I would come up with some excuse as to why I was in the area.
I sipped a cup of hot, strong black coffee, watching through the diner windows for her approach. Since she had started working for Kristin, I had done a little bit of background checking. Nothing too intrusive, but after our initial meeting, my curiosity had been piqued. I knew that Megan had pretty much been picking up odd jobs here and there, but I was curious about her mother. She had intimated that the two shared an apartment. I was stunned to learn that her mother, Anne, had become a certified nursing assistant at a neighborhood long-term care center.
Not that there was anything wrong with that position within the healthcare field. God bless them. I knew from visiting my grandmother in such a facility years ago how hard CNAs worked. I admired them greatly, not only for their dedication and their skills, but their ability to connect with many of their residents as well as the residents’ families. Still, I felt bad that in her late forties, Anne Bryan was unable to enter the job market without any experience following her husband’s death. As far as I knew, she had always been a stay-at-home mom. I remembered Megan telling me once that while her mother had often mentioned the desire to work, her husband had nixed the idea, claiming that he was perfectly capable of taking care of the family.
I also knew that Megan’s dad had committed suicide, but I had no idea what had driven him to it, and in fact had been stunned to learn the news. Up until that day, Megan had never mentioned anything about problems in the family or concerns about her father’s emotional state.
I took another sip of coffee. All that was water under the bridge. The two of them worked hard to get by, and that made yesterday’s surprise even more annoying to me. While I had enjoyed seeing Megan yesterday, I hadn’t expected it. I still couldn’t believe that Kristin had invited both Megan and Craig without mentioning it to me. I had no idea what was behind it. Was she trying to set Craig and Megan up? And since when did Kristin take interest in anyone besides herself, not to mention go behind my back and contact Craig on her own. Even more, why hadn’t Craig called me after the invite and given me a head’s up?
I wondered. Kristin knew that Craig was my best friend and always had been. Was she trying to ingratiate herself with him, to prove to him that she was a good match for me? I wasn’t sure. And what was the purpose of inviting Megan? She’d spent maybe all of ten minutes talking about the engagement party plans. I came right back around to the idea she was trying to set the two of them up. Why? She didn’t know Craig that well, and she’d made no effort to get to know Megan better.
Had she guessed that I was attracted to Megan? Had she seen me eyeing her at the house? I tried to hide my feelings, that surge of desire when I saw her there, but maybe she had seen something. I felt confident that she remained unaware that Megan and I had known each other in the past.
Still, her behavior on the boat was disconcerting. Her bragging, hanging off my arm, pressing her bikini-clad body close to mine throughout the day was an obvious effort on her part to literally stake her claim on me. Again, I wondered why she felt it was necessary. Megan and I had been careful not to divulge our previous knowledge of one another. When Kristin was around, most of the time anyway, I ignored Megan and she did likewise. I hadn’t even told Craig of our previous history. Craig and I had gone to different high schools, but even so, I hadn’t truly dated Megan back then. I played the field, and I had considered Megan one of my best friends but nothing more—nothing that I had been ready to follow up on then, anyway.
The whole situation left me feeling unsettled and uncomfortable. I ordered a refill on my coffee and wracked my brain, trying to determine Kristin’s motive for inviting Megan yesterday. Maybe Kristin just wanted to show off to someone who she thought would be impressed with such an over-the-top display of wealth. Maybe Kristin was impressed by my home, my cars, and my boat, but I knew that Megan wouldn’t be. Sure, she had admired and complemented my home, but that girl was down to earth. I knew—at least the Megan I used to know—placed much more importance on family, decency, and compassion for others, not materialistic wealth. Megan had never been one of those “I need to compete with the Joneses” kind of girl.
It made me feel even more protective toward her than I already did. I had no doubt that over the years, Megan had met all kinds of different people, and working for many of those who had more than she did was probably inured to those with a more materialistic lifestyle. Come to think of it, I felt a twinge of embarrassment at my materialistic possessions. Did I really need a house that big or fancy? Did I need two cars in my garage, or my opulent yacht? No. Did I like them? Of course I did.
Which brought me to yet another question. Could I be happy living without them? It was that question that had kept me working as CEO of my dad’s company longer than I had anticipated. These possessions, the proof of my success, had seemed so important, a part of who I was. But seeing Megan again and being around her, my focus on having those nice things, and so many possessions, embarrassed me. I—
“Sorry I’m late.”
I startled from my thoughts and glanced up as Megan slid into the booth across from me. I smiled with pleasure. She looked fresh and red-cheeked, wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. My dick shifted with attraction at her appearance. So down to earth, not concerned with so many of the things that women I had gone out with in the past, even Kristin, held so important. Here she was, staring at me, a smile on her face sans makeup, and she looked absolutely wonderful.
“Not to worry, Megan. I just got here a few minutes ago myself,” I lied. “Coffee?”
She shook her head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d love a diet soda.”
I nodded, caught the attention of the waitress behind the counter, and asked for a diet soda. She came with the soda in a minute and Megan sipped it, eyebrows raised in question. She swallowed and set the glass back down on the table.
“So, what did you want to see me about?”
That I remembered. Always to the point. I didn’t dare tell her that I just wanted to see her, but I did have another reason. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” I began. “I swear, I had no idea that Kristin had invited you. Or Craig.” I realized how that sounded. “Don’t get me wrong, I was glad to see you, and I hope you had a nice time. It was just… unexpected.”
“I was rather surprised too,” she admitted. “At any rate, it’s not a big deal, and I did have a good time… most of the time, anyway.”
She laughed and took another sip of her soda, rolled her eyes. “That Craig… he’s quite an interesting character.”
I smiled. “He was quite taken with you. I apologize for him if he got too touchy-feely. He just gets… exuberant.”
She laughed again. “I probably shouldn’t say this, because it’s wrong, but I’d do it again… if you and I were alone, I mean.”
Her eyes widened a bit and her cheeks flushed with color. She took another sip of her soda, her hands shaking slightly, eyes downcast. She placed the glass back down on the table. “I’m sorry, Scott, that didn’t come out the way I meant it.”
Again, my dick wiggled with interest. I wasn’t imagining it. I was attracted to her. She was so down to earth, so genuine. No pretenses. She spoke what was on her mind. No subterfuge, no conniving.
“I’m going to be blunt, Scott, if that’s all right with you.”
“By all means.” I nodded. “You and I always had an open, honest relationship. I know that we agreed not to let anyone know that we previously knew each other, but I’m still counting on that bluntness that you had when we were in high school. You were never afraid to speak your mind to me, and I don’t want you to start now.”
“All right then, here goes.” One more sip of soda as she gathered her thoughts, and then she spoke. “I’m gathering that there’s something going on between you and Kristin. I’m not going to pry into your business, but would I be wrong in stating that I don’t think you’re quite ready to get married? That I might even go so far as to suggest that the pregnancy wasn’t planned and you’re just trying to do the right thing?”
I felt the jolt in the pit of my stomach. I might be able to fool my dad, and probably Kristin, but I’d never been able to fool or hide things from Megan. Maybe that’s what I liked so much about her. I didn’t have to pretend. I could be myself with Megan, warts and all.
“You’re right, Megan. I made a mistake, and I have to take responsibility for it.”
She nodded, turning the glass of soda in circles on the tabletop, now seeping moisture on the outside. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, glancing upward. “You can’t get out of it?”
I shrugged. How could I tell Megan, a woman who was living paycheck to paycheck, that I was only agreeing to marry Kristin because I was afraid of losing my inheritance—my multimillion dollar inheritance? How shallow, how callous, how materialistic did that sound? I shook my head. “I had one drink too many,” I said, lifting my hands. “I can’t deny what I did.”
“Forgive me for saying this, Scott, but sometimes, you’re just too much of a nice guy. It’s obvious to me that Kristin is more than happy with the situation. I just wish that you didn’t look so… trapped.”
I glanced up sharply at her choice of words. She knew me well, or at least seemed to. Her gaze was steadfast, open, and I couldn’t deny it. I felt something for her, even after all these years. I should have made my move on her a decade ago, but no, I’d been playing around. Now that I… it didn’t matter. Finally, I took another sip of my now lukewarm coffee and offered another shrug. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. I sought to change of subject.
“So, tell me something, Megan. Why did you drop out of school so suddenly? One day you were there, the next you weren’t. I know that your dad died suddenly, but—”
“No need to beat around the bush, Scott. He didn’t just die. He killed himself.”
I sighed. “I thought I’d read something in the paper about it being a suspected suicide, but there was never any follow-up. And then you were gone, just like that. No explanations, no good-byes, no forwarding address.” She swallowed, her face losing color as she reached for her glass, changed her mind, and then stopped, tucking her hands under the table. “I’m sorry. It must be terribly painful for you to remember. I didn’t mean to dredge up unpleasant memories.” She looked up at me then, her eyes haunted, glistening with a sheen of tears. My heart skipped a beat.
“I’m the one who found him,” she explained tremulously. “He shot himself. In the garage, and—”
I reached across the table, palm up, gesturing for her hand. She pulled it from beneath the table and placed it in mine. God, this was worse than I thought.
“Oddly enough, I feel as if you’re the one person I can talk to about it,” she continued, her voice soft. “I’ve kept it to myself for many years. I can’t talk about it to Mom… at any rate, I got home from school, went into the garage to get something. I can’t remember what it was. And there he was, slumped against the driver’s side door of the car, half of his head… there was blood everywhere.” She shook her head. “At first I thought… I thought it was just a joke. A horrible joke.”
She looked at me, shaking her head, brows furrowed.
“I don’t know if you remember much about my dad, but he could be quite a prankster.”
I nodded, remembering.
“Anyway, it wasn’t a joke. Long story short, my dad’s insurance company refused to pay out because it was a suicide. That’s why I left private school. That’s why my mom sold the house, because the mortgage on it was so great that we barely had enough to sell it and pay for a mover. We got a one-bedroom apartment not far from here, and that’s where we’ve been ever since.” She shrugged. “End of story.”
“I’m so sorry, Megan. So very sorry.” Now I understood. At least part of it. “Do you know why? Why he did it?”
She hesitated. “I didn’t know for a long time. After the shock wore off, I just got angry. There were no warning signs, at least not to me, not at my age… not that I was looking for anything.”
“But you know now? You know why he committed suicide?”
She finally offered a small nod. “My mom said that it was a bad business deal.”
She glanced up at me, frowned, then dipped her eyes to her soda glass, watching the carbonated bubbles slowly rise to the surface as she finally drew circles on the moisture-laden exterior of the glass. I waited patiently for her to continue.
“Apparently, he was double-crossed on a huge property deal.”
Again, she glanced at me. I frowned. She couldn’t be implying— “Megan, I know that our dads sometimes did some business deals together…”
She released a weary, tremulous sigh. “Yeah, apparently, your dad and my dad were involved in a huge property deal. They’d been working on it for months. I’m not exactly sure of the details, but apparently, according to my mom, your dad did something, made some arrangements, that pretty much pushed my dad out of the deal.”
I froze, holding my breath.
“Anyway, and again, this is coming from what my mom told me, Dad felt humiliated. He lost his entire investment, and we had to file… my parents had to file for bankruptcy. He couldn’t take it. The shame, the loss of everything… He committed suicide, effectively and maybe inadvertently negating the insurance policy, leaving Mom and me with nothing.”
I sat, barely breathing, stunned into silence. Could it be true? But the roiling in my stomach, and more than aware how my dad conducted some of this business deals, rang true. I felt sick. Besides, Megan would never lie about something like this.
“On my God,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe this… I mean, as much as I hate to admit it, I can, but I can’t believe—”
“I have a favor to ask of you.”
My head spinning, the blood pounding in my veins, the instant headache, the tight knot in the pit of my stomach, all of it together left me feeling completely flabbergasted. An old-fashioned word to be sure, but apropos to how I felt. At that moment, I was willing to do anything. I nodded.
“I want to meet your dad.”
I stared at her, again shocked, then frowned. It didn’t sound like a very good idea, and I told her so. “Why?”
“Because I need to see him for myself. Maybe ask him about his side of the story. After all, I only have my mom’s side.” She paused. “It’s the only way I can finally… that I can put the pieces together. I’ve spent most of my adult life so angry at him, so filled with bitterness and sometimes even hatred toward my father for doing what he did.” Her eyes again filled with tears. “We could’ve lived in a shack for all I cared, but just having my dad with us, to be the kind of family that we used to be…” She paused. “Will you arrange it?”
Despite my inner doubts, and against my instincts, I nodded.