Because You Need Me (Falling for You, Book Two) (3 page)

I gripped my pen tight, holding onto the last shreds of denial. “If you knew me, you'd know I wouldn't let anyone have that much power over me.” The twitch beneath my right eye gave me away. My father had the exact same tell, and he negated that statement. Even from his deathbed, he held sway over me.

Memories of my childhood stacked one on top of the other. I heard his rumbling voice bark that if a public school education was good enough for him, it was good enough for me. When my mother went to him, recounting stories I'd told her about bullies that taunted me for living in the 'Addams Family' house, he’d just laughed. My family's wealth and my scrawny frame slapped a target on my forehead. He told her that it would toughen me up.

When I'd had enough and finally fought back, breaking a nose and nearly busting a kneecap, he sent me to military school. I only saw my family on holidays and one weekend a month. I kept my nose clean, brought home all A's, and soared athletically. Any sort of pride or love was like a hunt for hidden treasure. It started off exciting because each accomplishment was a chance to finally get it right. Finally make him proud. Each time I ended up with fool's gold. You scored the winning touchdown? That's nice...but MVP is what you should be gunning for. 4.0 GPA? Not bad...but you were beat out for valedictorian. You gotta work harder.

By the time I realized I was fighting a losing battle and I'd never live up to his expectations, I was finishing up my MBA. My father learned he had cancer and was gearing up to sell the firm when I stepped in and transformed Wade Enterprises into a powerhouse.

For me. Not for him. And he still found a way to ignore all I'd done.

Anger snatched me from my memories, but it wasn't the only emotion raging inside me. I felt grateful. If he wasn’t such an asshole, I wouldn't have never met Penny.

I glanced down at the pad in front of me, my notes practically nonsensical. I swore the curves of the mismatched words I jotted down mimicked the curve of her lips.

“Even now, you're trying to hide the fact that you can't help but smile when you think about her.”

I faced off with Caitlyn: me stubborn as hell, her just as tenacious.

“This thing you've got going is new and fresh...and dangerous.” She gave me a sad look over the top of her glasses. “Just be careful.”

There was an opportunity before me. The handful of friends I had would laugh me right out of the building when I told them this story; chalk it up to some sort of grieving or temporary insanity. Even though I knew all to well how bad things could get if this went south, I didn’t want to talk my way out of Penny. I didn’t want to rationalize it so I could put it in a nice box like the rest of  my life.

Caitlyn got tired of waiting for me to make the next move, so she told me to have a good day and started out the door.

“You know how I’m always telling you that I’ll let you know if I need advice?” I shrugged my shoulders. “I think I may need some advice.

Caitlyn pivoted back to me, her movements cautious and deliberate. She scanned my face, and I scanned her right back. The lines that creased her skin told a story of a woman that had to fight for everything she got, but despite her hard exterior, had the gentlest heart.

She gave me a sharp nod as she marched back toward me. She lowered herself back into the seat beside me with a sigh. When she rested a hand on my shoulder, I knew that no matter how large my empire or net worth grew, I’d never be able to repay her friendship.

Still, asking for help was far from my forte and I was suddenly at a loss for words.

“You've already done the hardest part, Xander,” she nudged.

“Admitting that I have a problem?” I joked.

She waited.

My tie suddenly felt like a noose, Penny's eyes locked on me. There was this hesitation that clouded her caramel eyes at lunch and I knew that our arrangement had a lot do with it. How could I tell her that this was real, then write her a check like she was performing some service?

“I don't think I should pay her.” I grimaced, picking up on how awful that sentence sounded. I was used to having my shit together, every word coming out just right, but when it came to Penny Robertson I was reduced to some bumbling fool. “I didn't mean it like that.”

Caitlyn patted my hand supportively. “Of course you didn't. Love makes people do and say incredibly foolish things.”

“I'm not-”

“If you want my advice, stop fighting that word,” she said sternly. In her olive colored suit and steely glare, she reminded me of a drill sergeant barking orders, coming down hardest on the wise ass kid with potential.

A knot formed in my throat.
A wise ass that wasn't used to not being in control
. But falling in love was the epitome of losing control. Penny’s face was the first thing I saw when I woke up. My days used to be filled with work, and my weekends filled with finding my next conquest. Now, I checked my phone like some pining teenager and would literally drop everything, do anything, just to see her smile. But it was more than the smiles and all the beautiful curves of her face. I wanted to know everything about her. Every triumph, every sadness, every scar, every open wound—because I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to show her that the world was a better place with her in it.

I couldn't catch my breath. My lungs were empty, grabbing at something stable. Something sane. I just kept falling, one heartbeat away from clutching at my throat, even though my tie was completely loose.

I stole a look at Caitlyn and she was geared up to call for medical assistance, her eyes wide with worry.

“Xander, breathe.”

It was easy for her to say. The words I'd kept inside rushed from my lips, each one like teeth being ripped from my mouth. “I remember this feeling. I felt it once before. I put all of my trust, all of me into something and I found out later that it was all a lie.”

I wasn't the type to dwell on the past. It was one of the few admirable traits I inherited from my father, but I opened the door as soon as I started thinking about love. Jenna Wells. I pretended I wasn't bombarded by a sea of her, the blonde hair that she kept in a messy bun but always made sure the rest of her was perfect. The life we used to dream about after we graduated. A life she told me she didn't want anymore.

The tightness in my chest lifted when I raked a hand through my hair and remembered that Jenna walking away ended up being a blessing in disguise. I threw myself into my studies and internships. I took all of my frustration and hurt and channeled it into something positive. But I couldn't think about Jenna and not think about the pain. It took months for me to open up to her and I'd opened up to Penny in a matter of hours.

“You were right,” I said softly. “Love is dangerous.”

“And that's why it's so beautiful. It's a risk, giving your heart to someone else and safeguarding theirs,” Caitlyn said softly. “Sometimes it happens in an instant, and sometimes it takes a while. But it's worth it, Xander. And you deserve to be happy.” She looked at me over the rim of her glasses. “The money works without love. If you're serious about this woman, you know what you've gotta do.”

I steepled my fingers beneath my chin. She was right. I knew what my next move had to be. I didn't want an arrangement. I wanted to do more than say that my feelings were real. I wanted to show her.

I
only agreed to meet my mother for lunch because she loosened her grip on the reins and let me pick the restaurant. She probably assumed I'd pick some place with 'attire: dressy' on Yelp, a place where we could pretend that we had a hundred dollars to blow on lunch. She was definitely dressed for the occasion. She wore a crisp white blouse with the collar upturned, a cardigan tied around her shoulders, black and gold sateen pants, and red bottom stilettos. Pearls glittered around her ears, neck, and wrists and she was surrounded by a cloud of Chanel no 5. I'd pulled on a plain white tee and my favorite patchwork skirt. It was a gift from one of my students and I loved the way it swished around my ankles, reminding me of lazy days at the beach and road trips. I'd look like some charity case beside her if we strolled up to one of the fancy restaurants she loved to frequent.

I had a different kind of lunch in mind.

We walked through Union Square, my mother chatting brightly, like we hadn't argued the last time we were together. That was how things worked with my mother. We skated right past the uncomfortable stuff to pretending nothing uncomfortable happened at all.

“So where are we headed? There's that delicious steak place inside of Westfield-”

“We're going to Super Burger.”

She came to a hard stop, her eyes widening like a homeless person had actually dared to speak to her. “What?”

I smiled to myself as I looped my arm through hers, my voice excited now. “It's just a block or two away. Their food is amazing. And they're not too expensive.”

She went so rigid that it would have only taken the slightest misstep to break her in two. “Oh honey, we don't have to pinch pennies. You know your father is tenured.”

It was my turn to pause and look at her with wide eyed disbelief. I gazed at her perfectly arranged features: eyes blue and so naive, aristocratic nose tipped so high that she couldn't see that there was a world around us where people were carrying bags filled with expensive clothes while other people were covered in tattered ones. Her lips were covered in a blush pink, and her blonde hair was pulled into a ballerina bun that made me think of the princess junk she forced down my throat as a child. My mother lived in a dream world where she didn't have a credit limit and she was too good to eat among the peasants.

She took the pause as an opportunity to extricate herself from me, pulling out her compact to check her reflection. “Penelope, the burger place sounds adorable, but I'm in no mood for some greasy mess.” Once she confirmed that she was still beautiful, she snapped the mirror closed and flashed me a sympathetic smile. “How about I cover lunch?”

That was so far from the point that it was ridiculous. “You are aware that dad and I are both teachers, right?” My words shook and the little voice I usually listened to that told me to avoid confrontation at all costs was sounding off. It reminded me that raising my blood pressure because of my mother's antics just stressed me out. There was no combination of words or alternate methods of communication that could get through to her. She was an impenetrable fortress of obliviousness, so why bother? But there was another feeling that swarmed in my gut besides helplessness. It was the warmth that spread like wildfire when Xander looked at me like I wasn't a disappointment. Like I deserved respect, but I had to demand it. “You act like what we do is the equivalent of a person that collects trash and the mayor who sits on his throne in City Hall.”

“Your dad is a professor, Penelope.” Her crisp tone matched the rap of her stilettos as she marched forward. “There's a bit of a difference between what he does and what you do.”

I followed behind her, trying to tame the urge to scream. Of course what we did was different, and I knew my father did well for himself, but we both worked in education and it was far from the land of milk and honey. We both helped change lives and inspire our students. “You're right, but we both work hard-”

“You work too hard.” We were shoulder to shoulder and she threw me a despondent look like all the hope had gone out of the world. “You were always such a lovely writer. I wanted you to find a nice man with a good job so you could write the next Great American Novel-”

“That's what
you
want,” I butted in. “I'm doing what I want. I'm helping kids and living within my means.” I made the last sentence sharp enough that she clenched her jaw. She never talked about their finances, but I'd overheard conversations where my father lamented about her shopping habits.

My mother came from a working class family. Grandma Jo worked at a grocery store until retirement, and Gramps was a mechanic who still worked a couple of days down at the auto shop to make ends meet since they were on a fixed income. Despite the designer dresses and Louis Vuitton handbags, I knew that my mother remembered what it was like to have very little. I was no psychiatrist, but I had a feeling it was one of the reasons she felt the need to overcompensate and flash brand names like she was a seasoned member of the upper class. Expensive things made her happy, but I believed there were more important things in life than money.

That final thought made my stomach flip flop. Considering my current predicament, I was a bit of a hypocrite. What about the 20k check that Xander was handing over in a month? I remembered salivating when he dropped that figure like it was nothing. How could I fault my mom for obsessing over money when I was choosing money and security over the risk of falling for him?

I wasn't ready to answer that question and when I saw the orange sign for Super Burger glittering a few feet away, I took the reprieve. “We're here!”

I bounded through the door, the smell of meat and bread and garlic and onions beckoning me and making my stomach growl.

I stopped at the back of the line and realized that I was standing in the line alone. Two giggling teenagers filed in behind me and I craned my neck to look past them and saw my mother standing outside, wringing her hands like this was the hardest thing she'd ever have to do. Just when I was gearing up to personally usher her inside, she took a breath and slowly worked her way to the door. We locked gazes and the sour look on her face deepened. It was her silent way of telling me that she was making a grand sacrifice and expected to be praised in kind.

I could have made a big deal out of my mother acting like she'd rather chew off her arm than go to a burger joint; point out things like the stools and tables that hadn't been cleared, the name tags, and how we'd smell like fries for hours, but I was never one for rubbing someone's nose in it. I knew this was a victory, however small, and that was enough for me.

I swiped a paper menu for her benefit. I already knew I wanted the biggest, juiciest burger with everything but the kitchen sink on it. “Wanna take a look?”