Haunted by You, page 17
The crowd erupted into applause as the results were posted. Their team pulled into second place, the firm’s best ever showing. Alex beamed and trotted back to them.
“You did it, babe. You’ve restored Morehouse & Strum’s dignity. We were in tenth place last year.”
“Glad I could help.” Harper smiled and gave him a big smack on the lips.
Alex grinned and wrapped his arm around her. “I’m so glad you came out today. I needed the assist.”
Harper snaked her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked. It felt good to be there for him. Even if she was spending her day swimming in a shark-infested pool.
They chatted amiably with Strum and Shelley on the way back, laughing at the gossip they’d heard over the course of the day. Then Alex insisted on walking her around and introducing her to everyone she hadn’t met already. Every last one of them looked at her as if she’d stepped out of a zoo exhibit. Step this way, ladies and gentlemen, to see the weird, Italian, tattooed Jersey girl. Everyone commented on her Jersey accent, even though it had lessened considerably over the years. Still, they seized on it and said she obviously wasn’t from “around here.”
Exhausted from the effort, she and Alex finally wandered back to talk Strum and Shelley. Shelley shot Harper a sympathetic smile over her rum and Coke. “So, have you finished running the gauntlet yet?”
Harper rolled her eyes and rubbed her temple a little.
Strum gave her a little pat of encouragement on her shoulder. He leaned in and little and lowered his voice. “It’s not you,” he whispered. “Trust me, they’re really all kinda terrible.”
“Yeah,” Alex agreed. “Interesting how none of our clients are here today, isn’t it, Strum? One of our biggest events of the year, and it’s like their invitations got lost in the mail.”
Strum snorted. “Oh, no, you have to be over a certain billing amount to get invited to this thing. Dan’s rule. Didn’t you know that?”
“No, I didn’t,” Alex said, his eyes narrowing. “But it’s certainly his style to waste money on flashy events like this, then be cheap where it counts. We’re going to have a chat, Dan and I.”
Almost as if he’d been magically summoned, Dan appeared. He pointed at Strum and Alex. “You two, I need you to come with me for a minute. So, Mike, there’s a new business prospect I need you to schmooze. And, Alex, there’s a couple questions on the Vale account we’re discussing with Tiffany. I need your historic knowledge.” Nodding with resignation, both men excused themselves and promised they’d be right back.
Harper leaned back against her chair, and held her cool glass of water up against her throbbing forehead for a second.
“Huh,” Shelley uttered, sipping her wine. “I thought for sure Alex would be done with all that.”
“Duty calls, I suppose.” Harper shrugged.
Shelley looked over at the Alex and Tiffany and Dan as they talked, and huffed out a little snort. Harper looked up in time to see Tiffany standing beside Alex. The space was noisy, and she was rubbing her hand up and down his spine as she pretended to “lean in” to hear what he was saying. Alex, to his credit, shrugged away.
“Gawd,” Shelley clucked. “Will that woman ever let up? You’d think by now she would take no for an answer.”
A pang of anxiety rolled through Harper’s gut. “My Lord. Is there something going on between those two?”
Shelley’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No-no-no—are you kidding? Alex wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot-pole. But the woman’s been hitting on him—hard—ever since he started on the account about three years ago. Poor Alex. He just kept dealing with it. He even tried to hang on after she made her indecent proposal.”
That little bit of news stopped her. “What did you just say?” she finally sputtered.
Harper must have paled, because Shelley got all flustered. “Oh God. I—I’m gossiping too much. Alex should be the one to tell you. I didn’t think there’d be any harm—”
“Just tell me.” Harper leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “Please.”
Shelley sighed. “For several years, Tiffany would always find ways to corner Alex alone, so she could leer at him or touch on him. It irritated Alex, and he complained to Dan, but in the end he didn’t have much choice but to put up with it.”
Harper thought about her ass, which was still sore from Artie’s pinch, and wondered about what kind of marriage Artie and Tiffany must have, that they’re running around acting like that. “She wasn’t doing anything her husband wasn’t doing, I suppose.”
“Doesn’t make it right though, does it?”
“No,” Harper replied. “Absolutely not.”
“Tiffany used to be a bit of a trophy wife, someone who was mainly on the sidelines. But after Artie’s partner died two years ago, everyone at the firm has been commenting on how she’s been butting into the company’s financials. Constantly. She finally engineered a meeting with Alex alone. And she basically insisted he was going to come over to her house and keep her entertained while Artie was out of town.”
“I don’t suppose she was talking about playing canasta.” Harper groaned.
“No,” Shelley laughed.
Harper suddenly felt like her mouth was full of sand. “When did all this happen?”
“Let’s see, if memory serves, it was right around the time he met you.”
Harper quietly sipped her drink while she let that sink in. “If it hadn’t been for me, you don’t think he would have—”
“God, no,” Shelley huffed. “Jesus, he practically chewed his arm off to get himself out of that trap. Boy, I still can’t believe he made that deal.”
“Deal?” Harper asked, her heart sinking.
Shelley’s eyebrows flew up. Again. “Really? He didn’t tell you this? I can understand him not mentioning Tiffany. But, God, he was so happy and excited about what he’d done. He’d about had it with the ‘round-the-clock treadmill the company had him on. He’d told Tiffany straight up he wasn’t interested, and she just wouldn’t stop. So he decided he wanted to be president of the firm’s Small Business Division instead. Problem is—the group is only worth twenty percent of the firm’s total billings. Dan agreed to it, but made Alex hand over ten percent of his interest in the firm to him, in exchange of taking an easier assignment. That means Dan now has the controlling interest in the firm, and has final veto power over everything.”
Harper was so dumbfounded, she could hardly speak. “Why in God’s name would Alex agree to such a thing? That company is his just as much as it is Dan’s!”
Shelley gave her a wizened look. “I asked him that. He said he finally had a reason not to be a workaholic. Want a few guesses to figure out what that reason is?”
Me. Oh, God, he did it for me.
Harper had never been so shocked. What was he thinking?
He thinks we have a future, that’s what.
Oh, Alex…Her stomach pitched and rolled, and her migraine spiked like a nail driven right over her eye. Suddenly she felt like the walls of the tent were closing in around her.
“I—I have to go get my headache medicine,” she sputtered, and practically knocked her chair over in her attempt to get out of there. Shelley looked stricken with guilt, but didn’t protest.
Harper staggered back to the anteroom where all the purses and coats were kept, and asked the attendant to fetch hers. She slumped miserably against a tall pallet of soft drinks while she waited for them to find her belongings.
She’d never asked for this.
Three generations of work so Alex could be handed this chance. And he just threw his decision-making ability to Dan? It had to be about more than her. She’d made him no promises. And he hadn’t pushed her to make any. Not really. Not yet.
Goddamn, she couldn’t believe this. The biggest part of her was horrified beyond belief. And yet…and yet—some small part of her was impressed. He stood up for what he wanted.
And what was it he wanted, really? Was it really about her?
Well, she was going to find out. And she was going to wring his neck and—
Thank God, the attendant found her checked purse. She rummaged around and located her pills, shaking out one for the headache, one for the nausea, and a big fat magnesium capsule for good measure. She found a diet soda on the pallet behind her. Ah, perfect. She tore open the shrink-wrap and popped out a bottle. The soda washed down the handful of pills in giant, blessed, lukewarm waves. She collapsed miserably back against her corner of the pallet, and wiped her mouth.
“Popping pills so early in the evening?” she heard a voice say behind her. Shit. It was Artie Vale. He walked straight up to her, standing close enough to invade her personal space.
“No,” she answered him, still trying to sound breezy and cheerful. “Just taking a prescription.”
Artie grinned. “Anything you want to share?”
“Not unless you’ve got a serious headache.”
“Hah!” he leered. “Girls like you don’t get headaches, do they?”
Harper fixed him with an icy stare. She was so done with this day. “You know, out of respect for Alex I won’t be slapping you for that statement. But so help me, one more word like that, and you might not be so lucky.”
Artie hooted like she’d said the funniest thing in the world, and swayed on his feet. Lord the man was so drunk that his eyes were practically spinning in his head. “Aw, come on now.” He braced both arms on the pallet behind her head, hemming her in. “You wouldn’t hit an old man, would ya?”
Harper was just about to open her mouth and say “wanna find out?” When she heard an affronted, feminine squawk from behind them. And a manicured hand clapped down on Artie’s shoulder.
16
“Artie Vale!” Tiffany yelped, yanking the man back. “You leave that girl alone. Right now!”
Artie gave his wife a woozy, sheepish grin. Tiffany handed her husband a bottle of water. “It’s time you stopped it with the booze this evening. Dan is waiting back at our table for you. Go on now,” she insisted.
Artie looked like he might say something, but considering he’d gotten caught red-handed, he must have decided to cut his losses. He shambled back toward his table. And that left Harper standing there face to face with Tiffany. After everything she’d just learned, she didn’t have the first clue what to say to the woman.
As Harper stepped out of her shadowy corner, Tiffany smirked with recognition. “Ah! So your Alex’s new squeeze. Harper…Harper…”
“Castellano,” Harper answered.
Tiffany scraped her gaze lightly over her whole body. “Hmm,” she mused. “You’re not exactly his normal fare. So…colorful.”
Harper threw up her hands. “Jesus Christ! Has no one in this entire place ever seen a tattoo?”
Tiffany smirked. “Ooo, touchy. Look, I apologize on my husband’s behalf. He’s an old fool that likes young women. What can I say?”
Really, was that how she was going to play this? Boys will be boys? Harper had just about had it with this whole damn night. “Yes, it figures you’d say that. You’re an old woman who likes feeling up young men. My boyfriend, in particular.”
If Harper thought she’d rattle the woman with the accusation, it didn’t work. Tiffany only smirked. “Who you calling old?” She sipped her drink, totally unrepentant, and narrowed her eyes at Harper over her martini glass.
Was that supposed to be a joke? “Let me make this clear, Tiffany. You need to keep your hands off Alex, and start treating him like a professional.” Anger started to boil, deep in her gut. Harper took another step toward the woman.
She only smirked, holding her hand up. “Or what? Are you going to beat me up? Oh, please.”
“Aren’t you embarrassed? You’re every bit as much the fool as Artie is, swanning around here, stirring up trouble and—”
Tiffany barked out a derisive laugh. “Oh, honey. You don’t know me. Nobody does. I’m nobody’s fool. You don’t think I know about my husband’s peccadillos? Christ, the man buys Viagra by the case, and he’s sure not using it on me. God, it’s so ridiculous. I loved him, you know, when we first got married, even though he’s twenty years my senior. But before long, I got suspicious. I put a private eye on retainer. Kept him for years and years. After he clocked in at mistress number twenty, I decided…what’s the point?”
Harper crossed her arms over her chest. “If you’re so disgusted by his behavior, why haven’t you divorced him?”
“I foolishly signed a prenup. And sweetie, I didn’t stay all these years just to end up with scraps. A girl’s gotta watch out for her own best interests. I suggest you do, too.”
What in the hell did that mean? Well, she wasn’t going to stay around to find out. “I gotta go,” Harper muttered, and turned heel to walk out.
But Tiffany caught her by the arm. “What are you really doing here, Harper? You don’t belong in this starchy, sad, corporate world. You know it. I know it. Everyone here knows it.”
Harper opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Maybe it was because she didn’t have an argument. Maybe it was because Tiffany was right.
“You—you don’t even know me,” Harper finally sputtered. “You’re just saying all this because you want to get your hooks in Alex somehow.”
Tiffany laughed. “Oh, my gawd. Do you really think I do anything I do because of a man? If I haven’t cracked the code with Alex, chances are I’m never going to. No, you might not believe me, but I’m trying to help you. I don’t have to know you, after all, to paint you a picture of your future. If you stay around here, it will be a lot more events like this. It will be greeting an exhausted, stressed-out boyfriend then husband every night. It will be bearing your perfect suburban children, and going to all the right parties and driving just the right car. Just like every other Stepford wife in this joint. Am I wrong?”
Fury bubbled in Harper’s veins. She yanked her arm away. “Who the fuck do you think you are, that you can talk to me like that? You don’t know shit about who I am, or what I want!”
Tiffany clapped her hands. “Ha-ha! There it is! You can take the girl out of Jersey, but you can’t take the Jersey out of the girl!”
“Why are you really doing this?” Harper glowered.
“Maybe I was a girl full of sass and fire once, too.” Tiffany swigged down the last of her drink and left it on the server’s tray as she turned to go. “Think about what I said,” she crooned, as she walked back to the event.
Harper stood there like a damned idiot, rooted to the spot as she watched Tiffany sashay away. God, she was quivering with rage.
She didn’t want to admit it, but the woman had totally gotten under her skin, her words snaking like poison through her thoughts. And now, it felt like she was feeling every kind of emotion at once—love, fear, anger, confusion, and maybe even a couple drops of hatred for that conniving witch.
But no, that wasn’t right, was it?
All Tiffany was doing was telling her what she refused to admit to herself.
She let out a long breath, and put her hand to her churning stomach as the realization sank in. I don’t belong here. And I’m not supposed to stay.
Dammit, she liked Alex. Who was she kidding? What she felt for him was a whole lot more than “like.”
God, she could see this mess in such stark, cruel relief. What was she really doing here today with Alex? Why was she trying to impress people who hated her, in a place she’d never really belonged?
Honestly, she couldn’t tell whether Alex was simply lost among all these people, or whether he fit in. But it didn’t matter anyway. He had to live in that world. She may have talked him into buying a downtown loft, but his future would be some kind of Southern Living magazine kind of life. She’d always be the loudmouthed Jersey girl who’d never belong. Alex may like her, and want to make this thing serious. But she could never be more than an unfortunate detour along the way.
Damn, she still couldn’t believe what he’d done with his controlling interest. He’d made an absolutely terrible business decision, and he’d done it on her account. She didn’t want to be responsible for something like that.
Is that what he’s expecting me to do, too? Give up everything? She’d have to pull completely out of Castellano Enterprises, probably, if she wanted to set down roots here. Jesus, how could she? Dad would have a fit. And she’d lose everything she’d worked for…
God, why was she even stressing over this? Did she really think she had some kind of choice? It was ridiculous, really. There was no scenario where this would work. She’d been fooling herself. The truth was staring her in the face. Even if she stayed here, she’d only hold Alex back. Though it would break her heart, it was time she grew up. She couldn’t go back in there and smile her way through this night. She just couldn’t. So she pulled out her phone, and sent Alex a text.
Look, I’ve had a hard day and I need to go. We can talk about it tomorrow. Have a good time without me.
She gathered up her bag and the rest of her things and headed out to the front of the resort.
* * *
One look at the text Harper sent, and all his alarm bells rang at once. Something was up. Did something serious happen? Alex ran outside as fast as he could and caught up with Harper at her car. Dear God, she’s crying. Why is she crying?
“Hey—where are you going?” Alex grabbed her by her hand, stopping her.
She stiffened under his grip. “I have to get out of here.”
“Okay, then, let’s leave together. Maybe we could go get some dinner and—”
