Page 76 of Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
I got over it. Mostly. Not sure I will this time.
It’s crazy. I want to talk to her. Tell her about the call from Adam earlier today. He told me they’ve managed to hold off the sponsors for another week, to give me more time. But what’s a week? Not enough for me to change shit around, that’s for sure.
No. But I can set things in motion. Let Mum know the countdown is on. We haven’t spoken about my leaving the company for over a year. No point, when I know the score.
But with a date set in stone, it’s something to focus on.
It’s almost ten before I get home that night and the flat feels weirdly empty.
For fuck’s sake. Mac was with me for less than amonth. How can a girl so completely take over my life in a matter of weeks?
She’s not just a girl.She never was. The last few weeks were the best of my life.
Not just because the sex was fantastic. I got one of my best friends back.
A pair of her flip-flops lays discarded in the hall, and one of her sweaters is tossed over the sofa. Good job Lucas didn’t recognize them.
Guess I should box up all the stuff she left here and return it.How was this place less claustrophobic when she was here when I got home from work?
An hour later I’m sitting on my bed, pillows stacked behind me, as I call Mum. We spoke last week, and she’s having a great time on the cruise, secure in the knowledge I’m overseeing the company. A thread of unease stirs deep in my gut.
You’re not the only one who could do that.
She picks up, and we discuss the usual things, including a brief update on work. My gaze roams around my room, and halts on the portrait Mac did of me. She calls it a sketch, but it’s so much more than that, and it’s now framed and hangs on the wall.
She nearly died when she saw it. But I think it grew on her.
I stifle a sigh and drag my mind back to the conversation. “We’ve not talked about this for a while, but I’m giving a formal date of my resignation.” I give her the date. Twenty-two months, three weeks and four days from today. It’s been over three years since I took over Dad’s position, but I’ve never given her a firm date before. Amazing how good it feels.
“Darling, I’ve been meaning to discuss this with you. The complications with the Gowan account are an ongoing concern, as you know.”
Yes, I know. And I don’t know why she’s bringing it up now. “I’d like to focus this discussion on my formal resignation.”
I can tough it out with anyone in the boardroom, but it takes a special kind of brass balls when dealing with your own mother.
“With all the upheaval lately, it’s imperative we maintain a stable position in the marketplace.” By “upheaval,” she’s referring to Dad’s death and her own stroke. My glance snags on Mac’s artwork, but it’s not my profile I see. It’s hers.I’ll always see her when I look at it.
“Will?” Mum’s voice is ear-gratingly polite.
“I understand that.”
“Good. Because we do need to firm up some long-term strategies. I’ve had some thoughts on this I’d like to run by you, but we’re looking at a five-year commitment here.”
Another five years?It’s a punch in the gut, and I can’t even speak, while she outlines her ideas. That’ll make it eight years I’ve invested in the company. I’ll be overthirtyfucking years old by then.
Mac’s voice fills my mind.You had to put your dreams on hold.
She said that to me in Wales. And I threw virtually the same comment back in her face on Saturday. Except she was being supportive, and at the party I was a total fucking dick.
The stricken expression on her face grinds through my head. Like I’d betrayed her in the worse possible way.
Go away, Will.
That’s why she stalked off. Because I accused her of being afraid. Of using her mum as an excuse.
Because I’d used her confession against her.
Will Hamilton, you’re a despicable arsehole.
