“Do you know what your employees say about you?” I pressed, the anger in my bones beginning to splinter. “They say you’re a goddamn asshole. They say you care more about your profits than them as people. If you didn’t pay them as well as you do, they’d be running too.”
His answering blink told me he didn’t bother to read half the shit that came out about him and his company in the news.
“They say you’re cold-hearted, Jackson. And you know what? I believe them. I have every reason to believe them, and you know that damn well,” I said, the venom seeping from my lips without a second thought. I’d wanted to put him in his place for so long, had thought about what I’d say to him for the last ten years if I ever ran into him, but this was not what I had pictured or practiced.
“I’m not coldhearted,” he snapped, the irritation showing on his face once again.
I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped from my throat. It was raw and angry, full of ten years’ worth of heartbreak. “You fucking abandoned me,” I said quietly, low enough so that only he could hear. “You are a glacier, Jackson Big, and you don’t even care.”
His jaw clenched as he watched me, his eyes hard as steel as they stared into mine. If I looked long enough, I might be able to see what he’d been to me before. My rock. My person. My everything. “You didn’t think that ten years ago,” he said.
The backs of my eyes began to burn as I forced myself to my feet. I shook my head, trying to shake away the memories that were bombarding me from every angle. It was just too much. All of it. I grabbed my bag from the floor, ready to go, but I stood firmly in place.
I knew why. There was something left unsaid, still something hanging in the back of my mind. It itched. It burned. It had to come out, and I knew there was absolutely no way of stopping it. I could say it and be free. I allowed every ounce of anger I had left, every pent-up emotion that had built over the last ten years to surface. Too loud. Too angry.
“I don’t know how I ever let myself love a man like you.”
Chapter 7
Jackson
The air wasn’t as fresh and the birds weren’t as active, there was a “polluted” feeling in the atmosphere that started to give me a headache as I sat in my rented Ferrari outside my parent's house. I’d adapted to the elevation, nature, and fresh air of Boulder already.
What I hadn’t adapted to was my parents’ incessant need to have me attend family gatherings.
I hadn’t even packed a bag. I had no intention of staying—I didn’t want to be around my parents for any longer than I needed to. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them, they were great in their own ways, solid in their parenting, and loving toward me and Tiana. But they were overbearing, too involved, and being around them for too long posed its own risks. The same risks I’d abandoned so I could live my life the way I wanted to.
I sighed as I pushed open the driver's side door. The house stood tall in front of me, its pillars, large windows, and stone facade boasting the money they had. Not that I had any room to judge, but even I didn’t go as far as they did with showing off my wealth. As a kid, I’d get lost in the house, wandering from room to room on Christmas morning, until I found the tree that actually had presents under it and wasn’t just there for decoration.
“Jackson! You came!”
My mom stood in the center of the double door entryway, leaning on the frame in her apron and dotted slacks. As if you’re actually cooking and haven’t hired chefs.
“Shut the door, Kate, you’ll let the cool air out,” Dad grumbled, coming around one side of her to take a peek at me. “Oh, good, Jack’s here.”
“You act like I had a choice,” I mumbled. I walked up the front steps toward my parents, the lines and creases in my suit from my flight far too apparent. I noticed the grimace flash across my mom’s eyes as she caught them.
“I can have Henry grab your bag from the car,” Mom grinned, one arm coming out as she moved toward me, inviting me for a hug. I gave it to her.
“I didn’t bring one.” Her thin frame always felt so much thinner when I hugged her. “Who’s Henry?”
Dad rolled his eyes, his posture tight. “The new help. Your mother is in love with him.”
“I am not,” Mom hissed, pulling back from the hug to hit my father in the gut with the back of her hand. “What do you mean you didn’t bring a bag? I’ve got a whole weekend of fun planned out for the five of us. You’re not staying?”
“Five of us?” I asked.
“Fred’s here, too.” Finally, a small crack of a smile emerged on my dad’s face. It wasn’t often I got to see that, and the idea of Tiana’s boyfriend being there was what brought it on. “The three of us are going golfing tomorrow. You can borrow my clubs.”
“I’m not staying. Just here until tomorrow morning.” I stepped between the two of them, the aloofness of the house already making me feel uneasy. The grand double staircase stood in front of me, marble flooring everywhere. It felt like a show house, pristine and perfect all the time. Not one speck of dust or a hint that anyone lived there or ever set foot in it.
“Tomorrow morning?” Mom echoed as Dad shut the door behind her, the sound echoing throughout the obnoxiously large hall. “For God’s sake, Jackson, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you hated your own family.”
“I’m just busy.”
“Too busy for your family?” Mom pressed.
“Too busy for most things,” I grumbled, as I followed the sound of hushed, giggling voices coming from the second of three living rooms. Mom said something behind me as I walked, her words blurring and vanishing before they even registered. I was thinking about Mandy again. Thinking about that painfully short skirt she’d worn, the little ringlets of her hair as she unknowingly twirled it around her finger, the sheer audacity she had to show up like that.