“I should’ve done a lot of things differently, Hayden.” Her voice was soft, sorry.
“Me, too.”
“But it feels kind of great to finally talk to you honestly about it.”
I smiled. “It does, doesn’t it?”
She nodded without speaking for a moment. “So what do we do now?”
“Not sure.” I hadn’t given it much thought. I’m very good at closing my eyes to what I don’t want to think about.
“I still love you. We could try working on things.”
I nodded. “We could.” But it would never be enough for either of us. Making do for the sake of appearances. I watched her dazedly as she loosened my tie. But I put my hands over hers when she started to unbutton my shirt. “Are you bisexual?”
“I’ve always known I was gay,” she said, shaking her head. “I had boyfriends because it was expected, but I always had a good…friend for sleepovers.”
I took her hands and brought them to her sides. “Then thanks, but whether we stay together or not, I’d rather you not force yourself to sleep with me.”
“I wouldn’t be.”
“Really? Last time I checked, I had a dick. So if you’re not bisexual, I don’t have the equipment you want.”
She stepped back. “Why did you stay with me all this time if you knew?”
“I told you—some right reasons and some wrong reasons.”
“Can you be more specific?”
I took our glasses into the living room, setting them on the coffee table and sitting on the couch. It surprised me when she sat next to me versus on her favorite chair.
“My first reason is your father.” Not because he was the head of the company I worked for, though. I’d gotten the job on merit. I’d taken the job because it was the expected thing for me to do. “He’s—without a doubt—the biggest bigot I’ve ever met.”
She didn’t even react, definitely didn’t disagree. We’d been through enough family dinners at her father’s house to know all about what he called ‘The Downfall of San Francisco.’ I couldn’t count how many times I’d heard his descriptive commentary about other people’s kids who’d come out, every time sitting next to Clare, wanting to take her hand or at least reassure her that not everyone felt that way. Instead, having to redirect the conversation to Bart’s second favorite topic—money.
“You’ve stayed with me for years and put yourself through so many Sunday dinners, just so he wouldn’t disown me?”
“Honestly, I’ve never thought that would be a bad thing, but I know it would hurt you.” And as much as I hated her father, I loved her more.
“Why else?”
“Because I’m an idiot.” I blew out my breath, completely unprepared for this conversation and this moment. It was a rare thing for me to so bluntly admit my shortcomings—both because I couldn’t afford to show weakness, and because no one really cared. “I figured by the time I was ready to stop working hundred-hour weeks, you’d come out, we’d get a divorce, and I might be lucky enough to find someone who actually likes me.”
“I like you. I just don’t like your dick.” She smiled.
“Okay, then,” I said, totally unoffended. “I’ll be sure to put that on my personal ad—‘must like dick.’”
“No way!” She backhanded me in the chest. “No husband of mine is posting a personal ad.”
“I was kidding, Clare. I’m not looking for anyone.”
“Why not?” Turning her body to face me, her expression settled into seriousness. “I can’t come out. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find someone. Half my friends are having affairs, and all of their husbands are.”
“I’m not interested in that. Sneaking around, worrying someone we know might see me with someone else?” Reality didn’t matter nearly as much as perception. And integrity. As soon as that faltered, regardless of the reason, the whole thing could come tumbling down. I made a promise to myself as much as I did to Clare. “No thanks.”
She took a breath. “Then we’ll get a divorce. The other half of my friends—the ones not having affairs—are divorced and either dating men ten years younger or are on their second marriage with someone ten years older.”
“Maybe,” I said slowly. “But before we do anything, we should discuss it more.”
“Are you worried my father will convince the board to fire you?”
“It’s a concern, yes. Not enough to force you to stay married to me, but it’s a concern.”
“Please, Hayden.” Her eye-roll was so dramatic, her entire head got involved. “My dad likes you more than he likes me. If, or when, I come out, he’ll like you way more than he likes me. Plus, you’d get a lot of pitying slaps on the back because you were both duped by his daughter, the lesbo.” She slapped her hands onto her thighs. “That’s settled. We’re getting a divorce. I want the China.” She smiled, happier than I’d seen her in a long time. But I couldn’t help but think we were rushing things.
“Think about it first, Clare. There’s no hurry. Big decisions need more than fifteen minutes of consideration.”
Her brow furrowed. “Yesterday I didn’t know there was another way to have the life I wanted without hurting you. Today I do. So if I wait for tomorrow, I’ll just be wasting time. Yours and mine. Plus, we need to get you laid ASAP. Seriously, Hayden, two years? I didn’t think that was possible.”
I wouldn’t have either, if I didn’t know firsthand—pun intended.
I didn’t know what to say. Sure, sex would be highly appreciated, but acting before you’d given an idea time to brew, thought about possible scenarios, ramifications, benefits and—
“Wake up, Hayden.” She waved her hand in front of my face. “You have that look on your face, like you’re so lost in your own head you’ve forgotten anything else exists. So, back to you getting laid. I have a ton of friends who would kill to hook up with you. Seriously, you’d be horrified to know how many comments they make. All the time. Don’t freak out if they start swarming as soon as I tell them that we’ve split.”
“Your friends would do that to you?”
“It’s the way we are.” And exactly why I would never want any of them.
“Can’t you just tell them I’m gay?”
“Jerk.” Her laugh was open, more honest than I’d ever known. “Come on, there’s really not even one of them you’d want to do? Damn, Hayden. So many gym memberships, juice fasts, and boob jobs gone to waste. Okay, fine, we’ll find you someone else. There isn’t anyone you’re even attracted to?”
I must have taken too long to speak because she suddenly bounced up and said, “I knew it. Who is she? Do you know her from work?”
“I… It’s complicated.”
“Is she married or with someone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, then, the first thing you need to do is find out.”
I shook my head. “It won’t matter. She knows I’m married, and she’s not really happy with me right now.”
“Then we tell her you’re not married and figure out how to make her fall in love with you.” As if it were that easy. I didn’t even know what love felt like and had never wanted anyone to love me before. So how would I be able to make someone?
“Come on, Hayden. I thought you never gave up. Don’t be an ass and let this be the first time.”
17
Hayden
I met Bart near the Ferry building, slightly confused by both his need to meet and the venue he’d chosen. When I saw him standing with another man whose back was to me, that confusion turned into suspicion.
“Hayden,” my father-in-law called. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
When I reached out my hand, the other man turned around. “Hey, Bennett. I was just telling Bart how you could use the vitamin D.”
“Tim.” Since when did Bart need a sidekick, let alone a salaried one? I shook hands with both men and waited for an explanation.
“Do you know wh
y I asked you to meet me here?” Bart turned and walked away, Tim right on his heels, me following warily. When Tim glanced back at me, and the old man slowed a bit, I assumed that meant the question was directed at me.
“I have no idea.” But I can’t say I was looking forward to finding out.
“What we’re standing on right now is man-made. American made. A hundred and fifty years ago, this was all part of the Bay. When space got tight, the founders of this great city sold parcels of water. Called them ‘water lots.’ It was the owner’s responsibility to fill them in.”
Growing up in a San Francisco family that had built its fortune in shipping meant I knew the Bay’s history, but I let the old man enjoy giving his lecture.
“Quickest way to do that was to bring in all the ships nobody wanted anymore and sink them.” His speech was as slow as his gait.
And right now, I had a lot more work to do than patience. “Because people were only concerned with looking for gold. Yeah, I know the story. What does it have to do with me?”
“I’ll tell you what it has to do with you.” He swung around to face me, his eyes showing an anger that wasn’t apparent in his voice. “I’m not a ship that can be sunk, you understand?” Not in the slightest. Good thing he didn’t seem overly concerned with what I thought. “Your father and I built this company from nothing, Hayden. We put everything we had into it. Gave up everything.”
That wasn’t even a little bit true. Both men had come from old money. Both men had also made sure their business didn’t cut into their womanizing and drinking time. The only thing they’d truly excelled at was hiring competent employees whose hard work made Conure one of the largest cargo shipping companies in the United States. The only thing they’d sacrificed had been their families.
“When your father—God rest his soul—passed away, I took you in, gave you the tools you needed to someday run the whole thing. Just like he’d have wanted.”
Yes, my father had wanted a son to take over his share of the business, but not the two he’d provided DNA for. No, we were too weak, too stupid to run Conure. So neither he nor Bart had given me anything. I’d had to work my way up the ladder, despite sharing a last name with one of the company’s founders.
“I’ve watched you grow, my boy.” Is there anything more condescending than calling a twenty-nine-year-old man ‘boy?’ “And, for the most part, I’m proud of what you’ve done.”
“For the most part?” No longer able to stand there and listen to Bart’s bullshit or watch Tim obediently nodding and kissing ass, I started walking again. Unfortunately, the two men took that to mean I wanted to continue this little tour of Christmas-Never-Happened and followed me.
“Now, I’ve always left you to do your own thing, Hayden. You’re a good man, from good stock.”
Now he was comparing me to livestock?
“You’re not one of those flakey liberals who care more about themselves than this city and the people who built it. You don’t need a parade or any of that bullshit. But now I’m hearing whispers of a deal you’re putting together…”
That’s when I starting caring about the conversation. “What kind of whispers? From whom?” Obviously, people talk. I’d be stupid to believe that word hadn’t gotten around about some aspects of the Inspex deal. My concern was how many aspects and what Bart was being deliberately vague about.
“Can’t say where it’s coming from,” the old man said.
“Really? You brought me and the head of the marketing department down here just to enjoy the waterfront and our stroll down memory lane?”
Tim shrugged when I looked at him. “You know how the business world is, Bennett. We’re like a pack of teenage girls.”
“Actually, I don’t give a lot of thought to teenage girls, Tim.” It was his flippancy that set me off, this bizarre meeting, and the men’s obvious knowledge of my business and unwillingness to share their source. “But I do know how business works. And seeing as the three of us use the same letterhead, if either of you heard anything that would affect my deal, I’d like to think you’d share that information even without the dramatic view.”
“You mean because you’ve been so forthcoming with us about Inspex, right?” Tim’s comment oozed sarcasm.
“Why the hell would I share sensitive information with anyone who compares themselves to a teenage girl?”
“Enough!” Scowling, Bart raised his hand. “I didn’t bring you down here to listen to you squabble.”
“Then what did you bring us down here for?” I snapped.
“To tell you that I will not be forced out of my own company,” he growled. “I’m not going to stand by while you sink everything I’ve built.” Suddenly, I remembered who I was dealing with—my father’s equal in too many ways, a tyrant to his employees and his daughter, a man who’d never faced a foe he couldn’t crush. But I wasn’t his foe.
“I’d never try to force you out, Bart, even if I had the power to.” The board of directors was the only one who could force his retirement, and they still believed he was in charge. “The Inspex deal will benefit all of us. Even him.” I flicked my head toward Tim. “But I’m not going to compromise the entire project by sharing it before all the pieces are in place.” I sighed, knowing I had to give him something. “In about a month, the federal government will be announcing a new project.”
Even saying that much was more than I’d wanted to share. Recognizing the signs of something big coming down the pipeline and asking the kinds of vague, theoretical questions politicians would answer wasn’t enough. I had to wait for the bidding process to open, just like everyone else. My only advantage was being able to line up the manufacturers and get them to sign exclusivity contracts before the news broke.
“Whoever wins that contract,” I said, “has to come in with a bid that offers higher quality at a lower price than everyone else. Down to the penny.”
“He’s right, Bart,” Tim added, as if he actually knew what he was talking about. “Down to the bolt.”
“I don’t need your help on this, Tim.” No way could either man miss my anger. “I need your silence, now and the next time you hear a rumor you want to spread.” I ran a hand over my mouth. “Thank you for the tour of the ship graveyard, Bart, but I have to get back to work. When I have news to share, I’ll share it.”
“With Brecken Shipping?” Bart growled. Brecken Shipping was one of our major US competitors.
“What are you talking about?”
“Who do you think we heard about Inspex from, Hayden? Because, like you said, it sure wasn’t you.”
This was the worst possible news. If Brecken knew about Inspex, the only ace I had left was the work I’d already done. All that work… How the hell had Brecken found out? And who else knew?
Damn it. “I need to go.” I paused, considering my next words. “I have no desire to fight with anyone. I’m only doing what I think is best for Conure. Just like my father would’ve wanted.”
18
Andi
Getting a phone call from a guy shouldn’t make a twenty-three-year-old woman feel like she was thirteen. Or even more embarrassingly—act like it. Especially when the guy who was calling had no interest in her, no matter how old she was. Not to mention that I’d just set some pretty firm restrictions on what our relationship was and wasn’t. Sadly, those restrictions had very little to do with what I wanted and didn’t want. Proven by my prepubescent reaction to seeing his name on my Caller ID.
Oh yeah, and there was still that sentence screwing around in my head: ‘I’ll figure something out.’ What the fuck was wrong with me? So far I’d been able to dodge Rob’s calls, but I was tired of getting the same voicemail message asking how it was going. How did he think it was going? It was shit. This whole thing was shit.
So I stopped squealing, sat back down, ran my hands over my smile, and put on a grown-up expression. He was a man…who I worked for…who obviously needed to talk to his very professional assistant, so maybe I
should pick up the damn phone already.
“Hi,” I squeaked. Oh yeah, that was professional. And lots of points for originality, too. Ugh.
“Who else do you work for?” Hayden’s voice was flat, expressionless, and that put me on an uncomfortable edge. He hadn’t used that tone of voice with me since our very first phone call, back when he didn’t know me at all. So…
“What’s wrong, Hayden?”
“Tell me who your other clients are.” The order was more growled than spoken.
“Why? Do you need a new butt plug?” I snapped. “Because whatever you have up your ass right now seems to be working just fine.”
“I’m glad you’re amused because I sure as hell am not. I want the names of any of my competitors that you work with.”
What the hell? I hadn’t even figured out how to screw him over without screwing him—physically or professionally—so what was he talking about? “I can’t tell you that. And you know I can’t tell you that because it was on the contract you signed with the agency.” So why was he asking? “We don’t share information on our clients.”
“Even when someone offers you enough money to do so?”
Whoa. Maybe my paranoia was misdirected. Maybe everyone in business was a crook, and Hayden was no different. “Are you…are you trying to bribe me?”
“I’m not into sloppy seconds. And I don’t cheat to get what I want. All I want to know is who you gave it up to and how much it cost him.”
“I’m sorry—all I heard was the incredibly offensive parts of that statement. Was there anything else to it? Anything that didn’t make you sound like a complete asshole?”
“Tell me who it was, Sara.” He hadn’t called me that since our very first conversation. And, weirdly, it made everything more real.