Chapter Fourteen

 

Zoe

 

“You slept with him, didn't you?”

Bryant's voice is low, growling, and his face is pinched with anger. I say nothing. I stand at the back of the elevator, staring at the doors and counting down the seconds until I can get away from him.

“I can practically smell the sex on you,” he mutters.

I sigh. “Paranoid, as usual.”

We haven't spoken much since the incident at the restaurant during his disgusting attempt at a date. He's happily kept his distance from me since – especially when I'm carrying a cup of coffee in my hand. And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

It's a trend I'm hoping continues but judging by the way he'd tried to handle me down in the garage – like a piece of his property that needs to be managed – I have a feeling it's not going to be that easy. Now I’m sure he’s just regrouping and scheming another avenue of attack.

Bryant is a bulldog. When he wants something, he doesn't give up easily. I've seen him grind people away and wear them down – even clients – until he gets what he wants. And he apparently wants me – even though I told him unequivocally that feeling is in no way reciprocated.

He's got my father on his side though, so I'm pretty sure it's only a matter of time before he tries to make another pass at me. Some might be flattered at receiving relentless attention from a man like Bryant. I’m not. In fact, I'm pretty repulsed by it.

“I can't believe you slept with him,” he says.

The anger inside boils over, and I snap. “First of all, that is none of your goddamn business,” I growl. “And even if I did sleep with him, I don’t owe you shit, Bryant. Get this through your fucking head, you and I are not together. We will never be together. Ever. Period. Fuck off.”

He physically recoils at what I just said. Even I can't believe the words that just fell out of my mouth. I don't usually use profanity. Even when I’m seething mad. Clearly, Connor is rubbing off on me. But, still, it drives the point home. And if there was any ambiguity in his mind, that little tirade should have cleared it up.

The door chimes before sliding open, and I'm the first to march through it. I all but sprint down the hallway to my office and slam the door behind me.

I roll my eyes and drop down into the chair behind my desk and let out a long, aggravated sigh. I know my father is going to be knocking on my door any minute, demanding to know whether or not I slept with Connor, and why I'm treating his golden child so poorly. Honestly, he should just marry Bryant himself and be done with it. Those two were made for each other.

I turn on my computer and bring up my email. Might as well get a little work done while I wait for the other shoe to inevitably drop. I go through and return a few messages and sort out the junk from the rest. As I sit there, I feel a quiver in my most sensitive parts, which brings Connor to mind again.

I mentally kick myself. Hard. I can't believe I slept with him again. And in the parking lot downstairs no less. What was I thinking? Anybody could have seen us. My father could have seen us. Although Bryant suspects we were having sex in the car, he has no actual proof of it, but I'm sure he's filling my father in on all his theories and suspicions regardless. I'm sure in the twisted story he's undoubtedly telling my father, Bryant was in the back seat watching the whole time.

My mind drifts back to Connor. Seeing the confusion on his face killed me. I feel terrible for being so hot and cold with him. For sleeping with him one minute and then telling him to stay away from me the next. I can understand why he's confused. If I was being put on the spot like that, I’d be upset too.

He's not wrong to think that there's a connection between us. I can't explain it. I don’t really understand it myself. But, it's there nonetheless. There's something about him that draws me to him and won't let go.

And I'm not even just talking about the sex. Though, it’s mind-blowing on its own.

No, there's just something about his personality that compels me – that really resonates with me. It kind of feels like a piece of a puzzle – a piece I never realized was missing – snapped into place when he walked into my life.

And it terrifies me. It shakes me down to the very core of me, and I don’t know what I should do about it.

I've spent so long – basically my entire life – shying away from any sort of serious relationship. My father never approved of the few men I was attracted to, and eventually, ran them all off. It made me hesitant about letting myself become attached to anyone in fear of what my father might do to them. And my relationships with the guys I dated in secret behind his back always ended in disaster – usually because of my screwed-up head. Either that or they only wanted to sleep with me, which wasn't going to happen.

Relationships always end in misery for me anyway, one way or the other.

Eventually, I decided to resign myself to spending my life alone and threw myself into school, and then my career. At least I could have one thing in my life that would bring me a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction. Or so I thought. Bryant and my father have pretty much ruined that for me too.

Given my history, the idea of starting a relationship with Connor scares me to death.

The door to my office suddenly opens as my father storms in, closing it behind him a little harder than necessary. He obviously needs to show me just how displeased he is with me. He crosses the room and drops down into the chair across from me, his eyes fixed to mine. His jaw is clenched, and his nostrils are flaring – obvious signs that he's mad.

“Wow, I’m so shocked that Bryant ran into your office and played tattle-tale,” I say. “Don't you ever get tired of boot-licking lapdogs, Dad?”

“Actually, what I’m tired of is my own daughter trying to make me into a fool.”

I lean back in my chair and let out a long sigh. “How exactly am I doing that, Dad?”

“Well, can we start with the incident in the restaurant?”

“Were you there?” I ask. “Did you hear the way your precious little Bryant spoke to me? The way he disrespected me?”

“I know Bryant,” he replies. “And I know he'd never disrespect you. I also know that you're overly-sensitive and tend to take things out of context.”

“Oh, right,” I say. “So, this is all my fault and, as usual, Bryant did nothing wrong. Bryant can disrespect me and treat me like dirt, and it's still my fault. I must have been asking for it. Yeah, wonderful. I'm pretty sure you'd find a way to justify it and make it my fault if he'd shot and killed me in that restaurant too.”

“That's not it at all, and you know it. Stop being such a drama queen, Zoe,” he scolds. “I'm just saying that you have a tendency to read too much into things sometimes. As well as a little emotionally volatile.”

I'm clenching my jaw so hard, I'm almost afraid my teeth are going to shatter. I narrow my eyes and glare at my father, absolutely sickened at the mere sight of him right now. I can't believe he's taking Bryant's side in this or saying these things to me.

I guess, all things considered, I shouldn't be that surprised, but it still hurts. And it hurts deeply.

“Did you sleep with Connor Grigson?” he asks.

I expected the question, so I'm already prepared for it and roll my eyes, letting out a long, irritated sigh.

“As I told Bryant, even if had, it would be none of your business,” I say. “I'm a grown woman and more than capable of making my own decisions.”

“Not when it comes to interfering with my firm,” he says, his voice ice cold. “You know that getting involved with someone we have a pending suit against is a conflict of interest. You could potentially sink the whole case.”

“It's a BS case to begin with, Dad. You're trying to extort thirty million dollars out of a guy who doesn't deserve to be screwed over like that. This case is unethical, at best. At worst, it's criminal. And you know it.”

He shrugs. “Just in case you were trying to conflict your way out, or were thinking of turning us in,” he says, “remember that you're a part of this. Whatever fate befalls us, befalls you – the good as well as the bad.”

“The hell I am,” I say. “I told you the first day –”

“Yes, you are,” he replies, his grin almost feral. “I've made sure that you're just as invested in this case as we are. At least, your name appears on all the official documentation. So, if you turn us in, you're turning yourself in too.”

I sit back, completely taken aback at the fact that my father would do this to me. That he'd implicate me in this fraudulent scheme. That he'd see me in prison for his misdeeds if they ever became known. I'm numb from the impact of this knowledge.

“You bastard,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. “You absolute bastard.”

He shrugs. “You're part of this firm,” he says. “You have to take the good with the bad, honey. Now, let me ask you again, did you sleep with Connor Grigson?”

“No,” I say.

He sighs and nods, giving me a tight, strained smile. I assume that means he believes me.

“Look, honey,” he says. “I don't mean to come down on you like this. I'm not threatening you. I just need to know that you are part of this firm. That you're all in. I’ve always done what's best for you, and I just need to know that I can expect the same from you.”

“Like trying to force Bryant on me?” I ask. “Is that what's best for me?”

He nods. “You don't see it or understand it yet, maybe because you're too young,” he says. “But yes. Yes, it is. Bryant is a good man. He'll make a good husband.”

“I'm sure he will,” I say. “For somebody else.”

“Why must you be so difficult?” he asks. “Why must you fight me on this so hard?”

“Why must you push me so hard to get involved with somebody I despise?”

He runs a hand over his face and sighs. “I need this to work out, Zoe,” he says. “I need you and Bryant to work out. I just need –”

“Why?” I ask. “Why do you need this to work out?”

He opens his mouth as if he's going to give me an answer, but then closes it again, seeming to think better of it. He looks away from me, and I can see, plain as day, that he's hiding something. That there is some ulterior motive at play here.

“What aren't you telling me, dad?”

He shakes his head. “I just think having a man like Bryant in your life would be good for you, is all,” he replies softly.

“Does what I want or what I feel count for anything in your plan?” I ask.

He sighs. “Of course, it does,” he says. “But, you're so busy fighting me, you often don't know what's in your best interest, honey. You refuse to get to know Bryant because of your need to defy me.”

The condescension and dismissiveness of me as a living, breathing, thinking person – as a woman who knows what she does and doesn’t want – fills me with a fury I can't even put into words. The fact that he can turn this around on me – as usual – and make it all about him, makes me want to hit him with something hard and heavy.

My life is not about him. It's about me and what I want. What I need. Just because I'm his daughter doesn't mean he knows what's best for me. It doesn't mean he gets to interfere in every part of my life, or make every decision for me.

I know I've lived like that to this point. I've ceded all control to him and have never once thought about what was in my own best interest. I've always let him take the lead, and I've followed behind like the obedient and submissive little girl he taught me to be.

The depth of my disgust for my father right now is only rivaled by my disgust for myself. Suddenly, everything Izzy has said over the years – and what Connor said at lunch – hits me with the impact of a train. I finally get it. Like, really and truly get it, all the way down to my bones.

“You'd be lucky to have a man like Bryant,” my father continues. “He's smart. Hard working. Successful –”

“He's also a condescending, arrogant jerk,” I say. “He's sexist and –”

“Let's not start with the name-calling,” my father threatens, his face darkening, his voice tight with anger. “He's old-fashioned, yes. But, some women would love to have a man take care of them the way he wants to do for you.”

“I don't want to be taken care of, Dad,” I hiss. “I want to live my life the way I see fit.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I would like you to apologize to him for the incident at the restaurant,” he says. “He didn't deserve that.”

“Yes, he did,” I snap. “And no, I will not apologize. He deserved it. He deserved a lot more than that. He's lucky I only had a glass of water at hand.”

My father shakes his head. “I just don't understand you, Zoe,” he says. “Bryant cares about you. All he wants is for you to care about him. You two are perfect for each other.”

“We're not even close to being perfect,” I say. “We're not in the same universe as perfect and you know that –”

My office door flies open again and Bryant walks in, shutting it behind him, his eyes fixated on mine.

“Oh, gee, sure,” I say, “come on in without knocking or invitation. It's not like it's my private office or anything.”

My father stares at me blankly, an aggravated look on his face. Bryant just glowers at me from the corner of the room. The weight of having both their glances trained on me is heavy. Oppressive. Their disapproval of my recent actions has almost a physical mass to it. All I want is to get out of here and be somewhere I'm not going to be judged or told what to do and how to do it. All I want is for these two assholes to leave me alone.

“Where are we with Grigson?” my father finally asks, deciding to retreat from the conversation about Bryant and live to fight another day. “Has he accepted the settlement?”

“Not yet,” I reply, trying to sound confident in the lie. “But, I think we may be making headway.”

“Is that what you call it?” Bryant snipes.

I scoff. “Do you have something you want to say to me, Bryant?”

“Bryant,” my father says. “She says she didn't do it and I believe her. My daughter would never betray my trust in her like that.”

“With all due respect, what I saw in the garage –”

“Enough, Bryant,” he says.

The note of warning in my father’s voice is the first I’ve ever heard directed towards Bryant. Bryant's face darkens and his brow furrows as he looks at me. If we were actually together, I'd probably get a beating when we got home.

“What sort of headway have you made, Zoe?” my father asks.

I clear my throat and realize that I've already started the lie and now, I have no choice but to go all in with it. I don't like lying and I've never been any good at it. Trying to come up with a story on the fly like this is making my stomach roil, but I don’t really have a choice in the matter. They've backed me into a corner this time.

“He wanted all of the particulars because he said he's working on a counter-proposal with his lawyer,” I say.

“That's crap,” Bryant says. “He's stringing us along.”

“Zoe?”

I shrug. “I don't know,” I say. “He seemed sincere.”

“Right,” Bryant says, earning another stern look from my father.

“Fine,” my father says. “I want you to wait a few days, Zoe, and then go see Mr. Grigson again. Tell him he has twenty-four hours to accept the proposal or we'll proceed to trial.”

“Ryan, I don't think that's a good idea. I don't think we can trust Zoe with this man,” Bryant says. “We should use a courier to avoid any potential conflict.”

My father shakes his head. “She has a rapport with him,” he says. “I'm not going to send you. From what I gather, your encounter with him was hostile, and I know he won't like me there. And we really need him to settle this case.”

I think back to what Bryant told me about my father's financial struggles, and it being the reason for him pushing so hard to settle this case. And again, I wonder, how he can be having financial problems. Where is the money going?

“Ryan, I –”

“It's imperative Grigson settles this case,” my father cuts Bryant off. “Like it or not, Zoe is the only one able to seal this deal for us.”

“In more ways than one, I'm sure,” Bryant mutters.

“Screw you, Bryant,” I snap.

“Not until you wash the stink of that Irish prick off you,” he counters.

“Please,” I say. “I wouldn't touch you if you were the last man on the planet. I'd rather shove a burning cactus in my –”

“Enough!” my father roars. “Both of you. You sound like goddamn children. I'm sick of it.”

We both fall silent. My dislike of Bryant has morphed into outright hatred. I've always tried to be the kind of person who doesn't hate people. I view it as a waste of emotion, time, and energy. But, when it comes to Bryant, I'm willing to make that sacrifice.

“Fine,” Bryant says. “But, I would suggest you send someone with her.”

“A chaperone, Bryant?” I scoff. “Seriously?”

My father nods. “I agree,” he says. “We don't want to give the slightest hint of impropriety.”

I shake my head and sigh. “Fine,” I say. “I'll take Jenna.”

“Why don't you take my assistant, Leon,” Bryant says.

Right. It'd be just as intolerable as having Bryant there himself.

“Look,” I say. “You said you need me to close this deal. That he won't work with either one of you. So, since that's the case, you don't get to tell me who I take as my second. I'm drawing a goddamn line in the sand right here, right now. If you don't like it, get it done yourselves. I really don't give a shit.”

“Zoe, language!” my father yells. “What's gotten into you?”

“I'd say she’s got a little Irish in her recently,” Bryant sneers.

Asshole.

He continues, “I also still think this is a waste of time. I don't think he's actually going to take a deal.”

“Why would Connor string this out? What would he have to gain?” my father asks.

“Oh, well, I don't know,” he says. “Maybe so he can keep banging Zoe? Smarmy fucker.”

“Bryant,” my father snaps. “I said that's enough. Go wait for me in my office.”

Bryant hesitates and stands there, scowling at me.

“Now,” my father commands.

Looking every bit the petulant child, Bryant turns and walks out of my office, slamming the door behind him. I lean back in my chair, my heart racing. My father looks at me, his expression serious.

“Do you think he's stringing us along?” he asks. “Do you think this is all in good faith?”

I want to tell him that our proposal to Connor isn't being done in anything close to resembling good faith, so we really can't expect it from him. It's not like we have the moral high ground here. My father has steered us firmly away from that and over the edge into the unethical. Maybe even illegal.

And, oh yeah, if I tell him Connor is seriously considering the proposal, that would be a lie too. I knew from the day we first met Connor that he wasn't going to take any sort of settlement. I can't really blame him. My father is trying to screw him. We all know it.

“I really don't know, Dad,” I say. “I can only report what I've seen.”

He nods, as close to satisfied as he's going to get. He stands and walks to the door, pausing in the open doorway. He turns back to me and gives me a small smile, and suddenly looks old to me. Like he's aged twenty years since he walked through my office door. More than that, he looks tired.

“You'd be lucky to have a man like Bryant, honey,” he says again, making one last effort to convince me. “He'll never –”

I raise a hand and cut him off. “I'm done talking about this, Dad.”

He nods and closes the door behind him. I lean back in my chair and let out a long sigh of relief. I'd done it. I'd stood up to him. I'd stood up for myself. For the first time in my life, I put myself first and asserted my own wants and desires. Told him what I would not tolerate. And my father had backed off. He'd dropped it. And as a bonus, I got to tell both him and Bryant off.

A soft smile touches my lips as I bask in my newfound courage and strength. I feel good – I feel great, actually.

It makes the rest of the day – even my interactions with Bryant – tolerable.