Piper
WALKING OUT OF THE ELEVATOR for the umpteenth time today, I hear Drake calling my name down the hall.
“Grey!”
I don’t respond. I’m moving as fast as I can with three cups of coffee and his pants from the dry cleaner, along with the proofs from a photo shoot and my big ass bag.
“Grey!” he bellows again, just as I get to his door.
Again, I don’t respond.
I’m here.
I have his fucking coffee and his fucking pants, and I’m so fucking done.
These past two months have been my own living hell. I know, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not the worst. I mean, Tucker’s dealing with a dying mom and becoming a dad for fuck’s sake.
I should be able to deal with a dick for a boss.
I should be able to be a professional and separate myself from the menial tasks he asks of me and go about my fucking life.
But I can’t.
I don’t want to.
I’m miserable.
And I miss Tucker.
And that pisses me off.
Everything pisses me off.
“I need you to take this to the Williams Building,” he says, handing me a manila envelope, but never making eye contact. “The address is on the front. It needs to be there in the next fifteen minutes, but before you go, I sent an email for the restaurant my meeting is at tomorrow. You need to call and confirm my reservation.”
“No.” I drop the proofs on his desk.
“What?”
“No.” I say it a little louder and a little firmer this time.
That finally gets his attention and he glares up at me.
“I don’t think I heard you correctly. What did you say?” His tone is lethal, matching the angle of his jaw, daring me to defy his requests.
“I’m not doing it, none of it. I’m an editor. That’s my job. If you want me to do that, I’m more than happy to, but I’m not being your errand girl. I’m not your scapegoat. I’m not someone you can talk down to. I refuse to jump through your fucking hoops anymore.”
“You do remember who you’re talking to, right? Is it hot outside? Did the heat go to your head? Make you stupid? I think you remember our conversation and what our agreement was.”
“Not anymore. There’s no agreement. If you want to fire me over a fucking video, then go ahead, because I’m so done.” I draw the last few words out as my shoulders begin to sag under the relief of getting them off my chest.
“You’re right.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, walking around the desk like the cocky bastard he is. “You’re done,” he says in a low growl. “And I will ruin you. Don’t think for one second you’ll ever work in the publishing industry again.”
Fire blazes in my veins as I square my shoulders, mustering up every ounce of courage I have left. “I’ll be filing a complaint on my way out, accompanied with all of the texts messages and emails you’ve sent me over the past two months, the ridiculous demands you’ve made. I’m not a lawyer, but I believe that’s coercion.”
I don’t know if anything I just said is true, but I don’t care. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I storm out of his office and make my way to the elevator, not even stopping at my office to collect my things. I’ll get them later or never. There’s nothing in there worth having to face him again.
As the elevator doors close, I see him watching me from the hallway, his face red with anger.
Before he’s out of sight, I flip him off, making my feelings clear.
Fuck him.
Fuck the video.
Let him show that fucking video. I don’t even care anymore. I let out a pained growl as I feel the emotions creeping up my throat—every second of suppressed frustration, every moment of restrained anger, every bit of buried hurt—it’s begging to be released.
Somehow, I manage to keep it together until I’m outside of the building, walking swiftly down the sidewalk, until I bump into someone not paying attention to where they’re going. It’s then that I take a second to think and promptly fall apart.
Bending over, I rest my hands on my knees as I try to control my breathing and fend off a panic attack as the tears sting my eyes.
Holy shit.
I just quit my job.
Or got fired.
What the fuck?
And then again, good fucking riddance.
My heart is at war with my head when I hear a familiar voice call my name.
It’s not Drake the Dick.
Quite the opposite.
More like Greg the Gentleman.
“Piper?” he asks with a hint of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”
I don’t even try to pretend I’m not falling apart. Shaking my head, I bite down on my lip to try to keep the tears from falling. This isn’t me. I’m not this girl. But for once in my life, I can’t put on a good face.
“I, uh, just got fired . . . or quit,” I say with an edge of distaste as the words leave my mouth. “I haven’t decided. But I’m definitely unemployed.” My voice cracks and I blow out a harsh breath, smoothing my hair back.
“Do you want to get a drink?” he asks, examining me with his dark eyes.
This isn’t the first time he’s asked me out. About a week after I met him at the airport, he called and asked me out for dinner. A week later, he emailed me about meeting for lunch. I turned him down both times.
It’s too soon.
But I need a drink. And he’s offering. And I don’t want to drink alone.
“Okay.”
The smile that splits his face is alarming, because I can see him getting his hopes up, but I hate to tell him they’re futile. Nothing’s changed. I’m still crazy about Tucker . . . my heart belongs to him. Even though I’m pissed that he’s shutting me out and I’m hurt that he thinks all I want is a convenient relationship, I can’t let go. I feel like he sees our potential, but it scares him. Plus, he has a lot to deal with right now, so I’m letting him have his time—time with Sammy, time to deal with everything.
I’m letting him figure his shit out.
If the tables were turned, I know he’d do the same for me. And after all he’s been through, he deserves that.
And I deserve a drink.
“I know this great place, just a block from here,” he offers. “I was just there last week for a meeting. They have great martinis.”
I nod my head in agreement, still trying to prevent the water works and get a grip on myself.
As we walk toward the bar, Greg places his hand at the small of my back, guiding me through the groups of people. It’s nice and almost welcomed, because I’m having trouble putting thoughts together, let alone one foot in front of the other. When a group of people pass, he stretches an arm out in front of me, blocking them from running me over. It’s chivalrous and polite.
When we get to the bar, he holds the door open for me and asks the waiter if I can get a glass of water before we order.
“Tell me all about it,” he says on an exhale, taking his messenger bag from his shoulder and setting it in the open chair beside us.
“You really don’t want to hear it,” I groan, hiding my face in my hands.
The waiter shows up with a glass of water and a drink menu.
“Thank you,” I tell him, taking the glass and chugging nearly half.
“We’ll have two Grey Goose martinis,” Greg says, smiling over at me and then the waiter.
The fact that he doesn’t ask me what I want, just orders for me is so reminiscent of my father that it nearly makes me want to bolt. I physically force myself to stay in the chair, eyeing Greg across the table. Same pristine appearance from before. Same air of confidence. Same polite gestures.
“Go on,” he encourages. “You’ll feel better once it’s off your chest.”
So, I do. I tell him all the sordid details, because I figure there’s nothing to lose.
Greg is patient and understanding, commiserating with me over every detail from the video to Drake the Dick. He volunteers a business card from an attorney friend of his, if I’m serious about filing a suit against Drake Montgomery.
It’s what I need, but yet, not.
I appreciate the drinks. I appreciate him taking the time out of his busy day to make sure I’m okay. I appreciate that he’s easy on the eyes and makes me laugh a time or two. But it’s not the soothing balm I crave.
He’s not Tucker.
“Can I walk you home?” Greg asks, after we argue over who’s paying the check. He won, of course.
“No, you’ve done enough,” I say with a laugh. “I can’t believe I just had a melt-down and told you my whole life story. Believe me, that was a one-time performance.”
“Well, I’m glad I could be here for it. Not that I want to see you upset, but I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time.” He smiles and I’m forced to smile back.
“Most sane people would probably say wrong place, wrong time.”
“I’d say a few drinks with you is better than any day at the office, even under these circumstances.” He walks closer to me, handing me my bag, his hand lingering at my shoulder.
My senses are lagging a bit from the drinks, but when they kick in, I realize he’s looking at me like he wants to kiss me.
“Well, I really should go,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’ve taken up enough of your time today.” I laugh again, but this time it’s a bit nervous. Even though I haven’t been in a public relationship, I’ve been in a committed one. Tucker and I agreed a long time ago that if we were hooking up with each other, we wouldn’t hook up with anyone else. And I know he told me it’s over, but I’m not ready.
“Nonsense,” he says in a low voice, moving even closer.
“Remember that guy I told you about from the video?” I ask, deciding being direct is my best policy.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding his head.
“Well, we just recently got out of a relationship, of sorts, and I’m not over him. So, I don’t want to lead you on. That’s not me. And you’re a great guy. You don’t deserve what I have to offer right now, because it’s not much.”
Slowly, Greg takes a step back, nodding his head in understanding.
“You’re a catch, Piper Grey.” He gives me a boyish smile, scratching at the back of his neck. “If you ever change your mind, you have my number.”
“I do. Thank you.”
“Thank you for letting me finally buy you a drink.” Stepping back, he gestures toward the door and I follow his lead.
“At least text me when you get home?” he asks, holding the door open for me. “And let me know what happens with Drake the Dick.”
“Okay,” I agree with a smile and a nod.
Turning around, I start walking in the direction of my apartment, feeling the weight from the day start to sit heavy on my shoulders. Drinks with Greg was a distraction, but they didn’t really help me process.
It’s crazy. I’m sure on paper, he seems like the perfect guy—successful, attractive, intelligent, well-mannered, kind, occasionally funny, yet serious.
He’s not adventurous, free-spirited, living life on the edge. He’s not rough-around-the-edges, soft on the inside. He’s not funny as hell and so fucking creative. He doesn’t ignite a blaze inside me so fierce I’m afraid it’s going to consume me. He doesn’t calm every frayed edge by just giving me a look across a crowded room.
That’s Tucker.
When I get to my apartment, I shoot Greg a short text, letting him know I’m home, then I toss my bag by the door, kick off my shoes, and call the only person I truly need to talk to right now.
“Hello?” Dani’s voice immediately makes me feel homesick, which is crazy, but she’s been my home for so long. I can’t help it. And she’s closer to Tucker. Part of me wants to hang up the phone and drive to French Settlement, but I know that’s ridiculous, I can’t do that.
“Hey.” I don’t know why, but the second I hear her voice and go to speak, all of my emotions are back and have to fight back the tears. I thought telling Greg about everything would release some of the pressure that’s been building inside, but apparently not.
“Piper? What’s wrong?”
“I’m a fucking mess,” I sob, finally feeling free to let it all out. “I’ve messed up big time.”
“I doubt that,” Dani says in a soothing, yet firm tone. “You’re Piper Grey, you never mess up. You’ve always got your shit together. It’s one of your greatest qualities.” Even as she’s complimenting me I can hear the worry in her voice. For as long as we’ve been friends, she’s never witnessed this side of me.
“Dani, I threatened my boss and quit my job.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I still can’t believe them.
“Whoa,” she says, pausing briefly. “Uh, that’s crazy, but I’m sure you had a good reason. Tell me what happened.”
“Okay.” I let out a deep, cleansing breath and try to collect myself. It’s now or never . . . just like ripping off a bandage. Dani is my best friend and I know she won’t judge me for what I’m about to confess, but I don’t want to disappoint her. I’m disappointed enough for both of us.
“So, I have to back up a bit and start at the beginning. Please, just listen until I’m done, okay? This is hard enough to admit, so I don’t want any interruptions.”
“Just spill it, Piper.”
“Tucker and I were fuck buddies.” I spit it out and brace myself for her reaction but there’s nothing. I’m actually surprised Dani is keeping quiet. I’d give anything to see her face right now, but I continue.
“We started hooking up right before Cami and Deacon’s wedding. It’s been pretty hot and heavy ever since . . . well, until you and Micah got engaged. That was one of the last times we were together and on that night after everyone went their separate ways, we went to The Cat’s Meow. We were completely hammered and—” This part is the hardest for me to say because, even though it was the catalyst for the shit storm I’m in now, I don’t regret it. In fact, I wish I could go back in time and do it over but, this time, I’d be happy Tucker proposed.
“And, what, Piper? You can’t leave me hangin’ like that,” Dani blurts out.
“Tucker asked me to marry him. I said yes.” I realize that I’m scrunching my face up, like I’m expecting Dani to start screaming or something. She doesn’t scream, but I do hear a loud thud.
“Dani, are you okay?”
“Yep, I’m here! Just dropped the phone, nothing to worry about. Please, continue.”
I can’t help the small smile that begins to break out on my face. I’m impressed at how composed she’s being, or at least pretending to be.
“It was actually the first time we spent the night together. When I woke up the next morning, everything went to shit. A friend of Tucker’s, one of the guys from the band, was there at Cat’s Meow, and he witnessed the whole proposal, took a video and put it on fucking Twitter.” I groan, tossing my head back on my couch. “Tucker got a text message with the video attached just as I was storming out the door. Then the shit really hit the fan. He said it went viral. I can’t believe none of you saw it. I swear, every time you called for that first month, I was holding my breath, waiting for you to bust me.” I laugh at the thought. It really wouldn’t have been the worst thing. “My boss did, though, and he’s been holding it over my head ever since, making me do anything he asks just so he’ll keep quiet.”
Dani’s also quiet, so I keep going.
“I reached my limit today. I just couldn’t take another second of it, so I basically told him to fuck off and he fired me.”
Wow. I feel so much lighter, freer getting that out.
“You still there?” I ask, pulling back my phone to see that the call is still going. “Did you pass out or something?”
“Can I talk now?”
“Yes,” I say, the word coming out somewhere between a laugh and a cry as I wipe the dampness from my cheeks. “Go ahead.”
“Okay. Holy shit. First things first. I can’t believe you kept all this from me! You and Tucker? What the fuck?” she yells. “Sorry, but I’m just completely blindsided, yet, somehow not surprised. And no one knows?” Dani takes in a deep breath then continues. “Don’t even get me started on your boss. What an asshole! You don’t need that job anyway, you can work anywhere.” She dismisses the whole unemployed thing like it’s no big deal. “But, back to what’s important, what the hell is going on with you and Tucker? Why did y’all stop seeing each other?”
“Holy shit, Dani, you were just bursting at the seams, weren’t you?” I ask, snickering at my friend.
“You said I couldn’t interrupt. It was killing me!”
“To answer your question, we kinda hooked up one other time after your wedding, but it just didn’t work out after that. Tucker’s been going through a lot. He didn’t even tell me about Sammy. You did. I was really pissed about that, but after we talked, I understood. He’s got a lot to deal with. And I’ve been miserable, putting up with the boss from hell.”
“Do you want to see him again or are you just going to be friends? Not that you were really friends before. I mean, how did that work anyway? I thought you two hated each other.”
“We did,” I say with a laugh. “We pretty much just hate-fucked the entire time. Somewhere along the way, though, our feelings changed.” My voice is softer now, especially compared to the loud gasp that Dani just made.
“It’s probably best that it didn’t work out,” Dani says, letting out a deep breath. “I mean, I know he’s sweet and sexy and I swear if you ever tell Micah I said that, I’ll kill you. But he’s also Tucker the Fucker, and he didn’t get that name because it rhymes.”
“I know exactly how he got his name,” I tell her, feeling a prick of possessiveness come over me. I’ve never felt it before, so it catches me off guard, but I actually want to defend Tucker. It’s foreign, but I can’t fight it. “But he’s different. I know everyone thinks he’s a player, someone who sleeps around and never commits, but he’s not like that. Not anymore, at least.”
“You’re my best friend and I love you.” Dani pauses, but I can tell she’s not finished, so I wait. “I’m just looking out for you, like you’ve always done for me.”
“Thank you,” I tell her sincerely. “But some risks are worth it.”
“So, you really like him . . . like, like him-like him? Like, for real?” I can hear the disbelief still in her tone, and I can’t say I blame her. I mean, I did just unload a shit ton of information on her. She has a right to her reservations.
“I pretty much love the asshole,” I confess. If I’m being honest, I might as well go all the way. “But he doesn’t know that. That’s actually the first time I’ve admitted it out loud.” I close my eyes and try to wrap my brain around the day—my life.
“Oh, Piper—” Dani starts but I interrupt.
“It’s fine, Dani, I swear. I kinda think Tucker might feel the same, but it’s just not our time. He’s focused on Sammy and he should be. It makes me love him even more. It just sucks that it didn’t work out, you know?”