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“To Carrie?” Cat asks.
“No, but I have an idea to get her back.”
I head for the door, and then the elevator. The minute I’m on the street, I call Carrie’s father. He doesn’t answer. I leave a message. “I want to make a trade. Call me.” I start running for the return home and I’m halfway there when he calls back.
“If that trade involves my daughter, forget it.”
“If I push my father out, you tell her everything.”
“Never. I did this the way I did it, so she’d never know everything and I will never let you be with her. Never.”
“I’m giving you my father’s demise in exchange for you telling her everything.”
“You won’t admit it, but you wanted his demise. I gave it to you. Thank me by staying the fuck away from my daughter.” He hangs up.
There's only one way I can force Carrie's father to talk. I'd have to get new dirt on him and blackmail him and he deserves it, but I can't do it. Not if I want her back and I do. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
Chapter fifty-four
Carrie
Iwake Sunday morning on my couch, where I ended up after tossing and turning in my own bed. I actually couldn’t sleep in my own bed alone. I tried. I even took a double dose of melatonin because why wouldn’t I let Reid turn me into a druggie? Not that melatonin is really a drug, but still. I’m not a person of excess, unless it’s related to that man. Which is why I had laid in my bed thinking about being in his bed and all the things he would have done to me, including just sleeping with the man. Then, thinking about him standing with his father on the other side of that kitchen island. The two versions of Reid contrast in my mind to such an extreme that it’s confusing me.
Sitting up, I cup my head, which is throbbing from all the crying, and I head to the kitchen where I start a Keurig pod brewing and then pop two Excedrin with a swallow of water. I reach for my phone in the pocket of my sweats that I wore to bed—because I just needed to be ready to do something, though I have no idea what—and I remove it. I actually check it for messages from Reid because I’m the pathetic girl who is obsessing over the man who’s using her and who humiliated her less than twenty-four hours ago.
I grab my coffee and pour a ton of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups creamer in it because I never ate the ice cream last night. I deserve the splurge. I head back to the couch and decide that work and a hard workout is the only way I can survive today. Since it’s the middle of the night in Japan, I email my brother about the event center, hoping the contact he has for the sale is as good as he promised. I then head to my bedroom, throw on workout clothes, and head to the gym on the fifth floor, since awkwardly running into Reid during a run is not on the agenda.
I’m just leaving for the gym when my phone rings with Reid’s name on the called ID, and I don't hesitate to answer. I need to work from home for a few days. I need space and I tell him just that. The asshole lectures me about doing my job and how my role as CEO means putting aside personal baggage. And he’s right. No asshole, in other words, him, should keep me from my goals and my job. I’m now almost as pissed at myself as I am at him. Almost.
Once I’m in the gym, I burn off a lot of emotion, then run to the store to grab all the items that are in my suitcase which Reid still has. I return to my apartment, check my email to find nothing from my brother, and then I shower. I settle onto my couch and start looking for a backup plan if the event center bombs. Every hour that passes is torture. I think of Reid. I want Reid. I hate Reid. I might be in love with Reid, which makes me hate him all over again. And isn’t this just what he promised? He knew I would end up hating him because he knew he’d done me wrong.
“Asshole,” I whisper.
By evening, when it will be morning overseas on a workday, I’ve just ordered Chinese food when my brother calls. “I’m walking into a meeting, but I want my percentage on this.”
“I’ll pay you a finder’s fee, but not a percentage.”
“How much?”
“Nothing if I don’t do the deal, which means I need the number.”
He actually hesitates but gives it to me. Our goodbye is curt. I dial the business office for the event center and connect with the man I need to speak with. His English is good and he confirms that yes, they are considering a sale. We talk about what he needs from me and the starting bid is a huge number, but he emails me financial data to justify the sale.
I spend the next few hours working through that data, putting it in presentation form, and it does look good. I email it all to Reid and then I fall asleep on the couch with my MacBook beside me and my phone beside it. I shouldn’t want it to ring again but I do. “I hate you, Reid Maxwell,” I murmur into the darkness.
Reid
I want to call Carrie, but I can’t take her shutting me down again. I need stand in front of her and make her listen. And so I work out long and hard, and finish with a cold shower and memories of fucking Carrie in this very shower. I then call the contacts I need to call to get the money together for Grayson, which leads to a dinner I really don’t want to have. After hours with the “money men” as they love to call themselves, I arrive back to my apartment, with the promise of an investment so damn large, it even makes my head spin, and I’ve done my share of mega-deals. This project Carrie came up with for the event center is hot. I hope she can pull it off. I hope we can pull it off.
I walk into my godforsaken, big-ass empty apartment. Why did I want this place? My phone rings and I dread looking at the screen. I want it to be Carrie, but I know it’s not. I pull the damn thing from my pocket and read the caller ID. “Hello, Cat,” I say, walking to my bar and pouring a whiskey because I’m apparently over the hangover and ready to do it again.
“What’s happening with Carrie?”
“Not a damn thing. Not until tomorrow when I can force her to listen to me. If she will. For all I know, I’m dead to her.”
“No,” she says. “I saw how she looked at you and I saw you looked at her. Reid, I’ve never seen you look at a woman like that. She’s—changing you or maybe healing you in some way I can’t know. We just aren’t that close.”
“Cat—”
