Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1) (21 page)

“Who was she?” he asks again.

Sighing, I slam back a shot of tequila and give him the answer he’s looking for, “She was my girl. She left without ever giving me a reason why. I fucking loved her, and she broke my fucking heart.”

“Ahh.” He nods. “She also the reason for this?” he asks flicking a finger through my now much longer hair. I haven’t cut my hair since I’ve been out here. It now rests just above my shoulders. I have a much difference appearance than when I first came out here. Longer hair, which is also slightly lighter from the year-round sun. I have a nice tan too. I’ve put on a little muscle and am in the best shape of my life. I’ve taken up hiking and swimming. Spending more time outdoors here than I did in Jersey.

“Not her, but all the ones around here. These ladies love my hair. I can understand the love, though. Tell me you don’t like using hair for leverage,” I joke, well, kind of, because the women do love to pull my hair, and I like it.

“How long are you going to keep taking home chicks who remind you of her before you go fix it?” he asks. I’m not sure why, but his comment annoys me.

“I wasn’t just dating chicks who remind me of her on purpose. And I don’t see how I can fix things when I’m across the country and have no fucking clue what I did in the first place,” I snap at him.

”Dating? Dude, you don't date anyone. You buy them a couple drinks, bag them, and head out after. I doubt if you even know their names half the time,” he laughs sarcastically as he shakes his head at me.

My thoughts go back to the girl I was with a few nights ago. I had only realized I didn’t know her name when I went to say goodbye and tried to stutter over it to cover. She called me an asshole as I was apologizing my way out the door.

Fuck! He’s right. But my point still stands about getting her back. Not possible from here, and even more unlikely since I know shit about the reason she left in the first place.

Quinn

“Why do you keep coming to these setups?” I ask Jordan, a little loose-lipped from the four drinks I had during dinner. Staying at the bar after it ended probably wasn’t the best idea. But I can’t help it. Having to sit through these fucked up dinners with my dad is enough to drive anyone to alcohol. “I get blindsided by them, but you know why you’re coming. You know my dad’s motives.”

The first time I met Jordan, it was a setup by my father. I was expecting to meet a potential investor, but it was Jordan who showed up. As soon as he introduced himself, I knew exactly what my father had done.

Jordan stood there, hand in mine and sly smile on his face. He looked good in his navy suit. His blonde hair slicked back and brown eyes twinkling. I had no doubt that many panties had dropped thanks to that smile. It took me all of five minutes to set his ass straight.

“I’m not fucking you,” I told him bluntly.

“Excuse me?” he chuckled. “I don’t remember asking you to bed in the one sentence I’ve spoken to you.”

“You didn’t have to,” I replied. “The look on your face did that for you. I’ve perfected this act. Used it many times.”

I then went onto tell him exactly why I was there. I filled him in on my father’s stupid plan and how Jordan played into it. He didn’t need to get caught up in the battle between my dad and me. I also didn’t need him trying to seduce me. I knew all about his reputation. He’s the male version of me.

“I do it because it makes my dad happy. He thinks you and I would be good together,” he says, bringing me back to the present as he stares into his half-drunk glass of Scotch on the bar. I got tricked into another dinner with my parents and Jordan’s family. My dad has become sneaky in his ways of trying to force me into his idea of marrying Jordan.

He’ll tell me we have a meeting to attend with a client, and it will turn out to be dinner with Jordan’s family. He’s been pulling this shit for a good six months now. My dad has them all fooled, pretending to care about Martin’s condition. I can’t believe Martin’s this naïve though. My dad and he have never been more than business acquaintances, or at times, rivals.

Other times, we do actually have meetings with clients, which forces me to show up to his requests because I never know if it’s a real meeting or a setup. He even got me on Mother’s Day last weekend. He told me we were having a brunch with my mother and Grandmother, but it turns out it was with my mom and Jordan’s mom. My grandmother wasn’t there. The old man’s fucking crafty; I’ll give him that. He knew I wouldn’t show up for just my mother, but I would for my grandmother.

“Why would you let him think this is going somewhere? I’ve told you a hundred times that I have no intention of going through with this shit,” I question.

Turning his head toward me, he gives me a small smile before he answers. “All my dad really cares about is seeing me happy with a family. I don’t know how much longer I have with him, so I don’t mind painting him a picture he wants to see.”

“So why does he want you to marry before he gives complete control of the company anyway?” I blurt out, not actually thinking before I speak. Damn liquor.

Jordan’s eyes go wide and then he narrows them at me. “How do you know that?”

“I told you how the first time we met. My dad told me when he informed me I was to date you,” I remind him.

“You left that part out,” he notes.

“I thought you understood that part. That’s why my dad concocted this whole thing. Your father said once you settled down, he was handing you over control, but not until then. My dad probably figured with your dad’s illness, you’ll marry just to get the business before he dies and leaves some clause in his will or something.” I try to explain my father’s uncompassionate thinking. “That’s the kind of fucked up shit my dad does.”

“That’s not the reason I want to get married before he passes away,” he denies shaking his head. “I want…”

“Wait,” I interrupt him. “You actually do want to get married?”

“Yes, Quinn. You might’ve known that by now if you stopped hating me for a minute and had an actual conversation with me. I’m not the bad guy here. I know your dad has his agenda, but it has nothing to do with me,” he sighs. “Getting married would give my dad some peace of mind before he goes. All he’s ever wanted for me was a happy life. His definition of a happy life is family. He wants me to have that but doesn’t think I’m ready to control the business until I’ve settled down and started a family. He thinks you don’t learn to be truly responsible until you have someone to hold you accountable.”

“Wow,” is all I have to say in response to his revelation. “You’re parents are much different than mine. My father defines happiness by his wealth and material possessions.”

“My mother and I are the most important things in his life,” he smiles. “Don’t get me wrong; his business means a lot to him, but not as much as family.”

Huh… I wonder what it’s like to have a family who cares.
I suddenly have a new found respect for Jordan and his dad.

Maybe Jordan’s right, if I stop blaming him for my dad’s douchebaggery, I might actually like the guy. We’re a lot alike. We have a lot of this in common. He seems like a good guy. It can’t hurt to give him some civility while we wait for this thing with my dad to blow over.

Quinn

It’s a Saturday morning at the beginning of June, and all I want to do is hit the fucking beach. Instead, I’m heading to the damn office because my father has “important business” to discuss. I’m sure this is just another way for him to jerk me around. Otherwise he would’ve made time to talk to me about it yesterday before I left the office. I know he was still there when I left.

Stepping off the elevator and heading to his office, I try to tamp down my disdain so I don’t pick up the potted plant on his secretary’s desk and bash him over the head with it. I knock and head in, not waiting for his invitation.

“Good morning, Quinn,” he says from his place behind his desk. An overly fake smile on his face. Here we go. This can’t be good; he never smiles at me. Not anymore.

“What can I do for you?” I ask, trying to get right to the point.

“How are things going with you and Jordan?” he asks, proving my point that nothing good was going to come of this meeting today. “Martin says Jordan has nothing but wonderful things to say about you, and you’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“There’s no Jordan and me,” I remind him. “Yes, we’ve developed a friendship, that’s all it is. I still have no intention of marrying him.”

Standing from his chair, he sighs. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“Why?” I ask confused. “I told you from the beginning I wasn’t going along with this.”

“And I told you, you are going to do this. I told you there was an easy way or a hard way. I shouldn’t be surprised you’re taking the hard way. You never seem to do anything the right way.”

The balls on this motherfucker.
I try to recall all the ways the killers got caught in every crime drama I’ve ever watched so I can get away with bludgeoning him to death right here in his office.

“Is there a point to this conversation?” I ask, deciding this man isn’t worth spending the rest of my life in prison for, even though it’s pretty tempting.

“Mario isn’t working out as well as I thought he would as VP,” he shares. Maybe because he was never suited for the position in the first place. He only got the promotion because my father wanted to teach me a lesson. It was a lesson I got loud and clear, though.

“If you want that title attached to your name and keep a roof over your head, you’ll marry Jordan,” he continues.

I knew when he offered to pay my rent way back when I decided to move from the dorms it would come back to bite me in the ass. I hate that he pays for it, but the way I see it, if I have to put up with his degrading, demeaning, behavior, I might as well take him for all he’s worth. I just never imagined he’d use it to force me to marry someone.

“If you want to continue having a career as a venture capitalist, you’ll marry Jordan.”

“What is that supposed to mean exactly, Father?” I didn’t know it was possible for the man to shock me anymore, but I guess I was wrong.

“You marry the man or I’ll make sure you never have a job in this city again.” His true colors pouring through his sneer. “I’ll have you blacklisted. I’ll tell everyone how you misappropriate funds. You make bad investments. You lie to clients. Everyone will think you break every rule in the book.”

“You have no proof of any of that. You can’t make people believe those allegations without anything to back your story up,” I argue, knowing I’ve not done a damn thing he’s claiming. He can’t prove shit. My hands are clean.

I thought we’d reached the limit of his malevolence, but again, I’m proven wrong. The look that plays across his face is pure evil. “I’m Louis Taylor, little girl, I don’t need proof. My word has more clout than any paper trail. And even if I did, all the proof I need is firing my own daughter. Who would fire their own blood? I would, when she is doing things that jeopardize my empire. Go ahead and test my theory.”

I smile at him and turn to walk out the door. I won’t give him the satisfaction of my anger. That’s what he wants.

“This isn’t a bluff, Quinn,” he calls out as I reach the threshold of his office and the lobby. “You will do this, or you’ll find yourself with no place to live and no career options.”

“Fuck you.” God that felt good.

“No, daughter, it’s you who could be fucked. Do you know how easy it would be to log into your account? Do you know easy it would be to change a few things around and then drop a call to the authorities? No one would ever know. Don’t push me, Quinn. I really don’t think orange is a color you’ll be happy wearing until you’re fifty. I want this merger. I don’t care what I have to do to get it. If you choose to become collateral damage, so be it. The only thing that matters to me is taking my legacy to the next level. One way or another, I’ll get what I want. I always do. You know that. ” His face completely feral. I have no idea who this person in front of me is. This man has no resemblance to the father I used to know. He’s the fucking devil.

I turn and leave his office without muttering a single word because I don’t know if I can control my mouth. The desire to scream at him and tell him to go fuck himself again is overwhelming. I have no doubt that he would follow through and have me investigated. Something illegal would turn up in that digging.