Indulgence (52 page)

“Princess, I didn’t, that’s not fair!” Ollie stamped his
foot like a five-year-old in trouble. “I admit it. I talked to him, but I gave
him a ration of shit so deep his eyes turned espresso, I promise! I just think
you need to hear him out. You’re miserable and need to—”

“Don’t tell me what I need, Ollie! I’m tired of everyone
telling me what they think I need. I know exactly what you did. You talked
about me behind my back. You let him in. I’m so pissed at you!”

“You’re being unreasonable. It’s been three weeks. I’m tired
of seeing you curled up in bed completely broken, or running a marathon in the
gym here until you drop. Or the other fun alternative of working yourself to
the bone. It’s not healthy, and I won’t stand for it anymore!”

“Well, you can just go fuck yourself! Why don’t you go spend
your weekend with Dean and leave me and my life alone for one goddamned
minute?” My voice was shrill. He ricocheted back as if I’d struck him, pain and
hurt clearly visible on his pointed wrinkle-free face.

“Fine. I’ll go. Enjoy your pity party for one … bitch!” He
ran out of my bedroom and I threw the pillows off the bed onto the floor,
ripping at the bed sheets to try and straighten them. It was no use. I couldn’t
make a bed for shit.

Even my own lack of domesticity proved how wrong I was for
Hank. Just like the little Country Cunt said. He needed someone who could take
care of him and the house. Cook his meals. I had Gustav. I continued to throw
things around the room, muttering to myself.

Why did everyone think they knew what was best for me?
Besides the droves of flowers Hank sent every day, I’d also gotten cards and
letters. I didn’t open any of them. They sat in a neat little pile on my
nightstand. He was trying hard to breach the wall I’d put up, but going to
Ollie and securing his vote was beyond reproach. I couldn’t believe my best
friend had taken his side.

Needing a man, any man—including Ollie—was going the way of
the wind. It was time to take charge of my life. Oh who the hell was I kidding?
Without Ollie, without Hank I was a shriveled up old hag. There was no joy
without them. But was it possible that everything that happened with Hank could
be mended? Did I even whisper a hope? No, no way. He’d break my barely glued
together heart all over again. I had to be strong. Men though beautiful and
necessary sexually, were not necessary to live my life. It would be okay.

I dialed my sister. London answered on the first ring. “Pen,
what’s up?”

“Are you with a client?”

“No, no. I was just hanging out with Tripp, actually. Are
you okay?”

I considered lying, telling her everything was rainbows and
unicorns, but my fight with Ollie broke the seal on my emotions and I needed
her. “No,” I whispered holding back the storm of tears wanting to break free.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be over in thirty minutes. The traffic is
brutal.”

“No, no. I need to get out of the house. Let’s meet at ’The
Place‘ downtown. Is that okay? I’ll call ahead and get my usual table.”

“Sure. We’ll see you there.”

I took a hot shower and pulled my hair into a ponytail. It’s
about the only thing I could muster without Ollie, and I just didn’t have the
energy to put forth any real effort. I threw on a pair of dark skinny jeans, a
tank top with a loose overshirt that hung off the shoulder. The outfit was
completed with a pair of silver ballet flats. Jewelry was too much to think
about. Bare, low-key Aspen would have to do. Grabbing the biggest pair of
Jackie O. sunglasses I could find to cover my puffy eyes, I was out the door in
twenty minutes.

London and Tripp were already seated when I got there.

“Hey.” London jumped up and hugged me tight.

Tripp pulled me into a full-body embrace as well. I loved
these people. They were two people I could be myself with. I didn’t have to
hide the fact that I was hurting with them. They knew just by looking at me.

London’s gray-blue eyes scanned my body. “I ordered some
comfort food. By the looks of the weight you’ve lost, you could use it.”

My body was on point with my mind. Only when I was about to
pass out from hunger did I actually shove down a small bowl of cereal or a
handful of almonds. Wine, however, was in great supply and helped to dull the
ache I felt when I spent any time thinking about Hank.
Stupid cowboy!

“How are you?”

“Fighting with Ollie,” I said.

“I see. So you’ve taken out your anger and hurt on the one
man that loves you the most in the universe.”

Tripp shook his head. My eyes narrowed at him.

“Oh, don’t think London’s so innocent. We’ve had some
whoppers in our time. Haven’t we, Bridge?”

“True. But in the end, we always come back to one another.”
Tripp smiled and nodded. “You and Ollie will make up. I guarantee he won’t even
go a day without making amends with you.”

God, I hoped they were right. Fighting with Ollie on top of
my breakup was unbearable. I hated that they were consoling me. Technically,
I’d instigated the fight and said the harsh words. He was guilty, though. He’d
talked to Hank behind my back. That offense deserved a major payback and the
silent treatment.

“So what’d he do?” London asked. I explained the entire
fight. They both listened and nodded where appropriate, letting me finish my
entire side of the story until the food and drinks arrived.

“Are you ready to talk to Hank?” London asked.

Just the mention of his name hit my heart like a
sledgehammer. Saying I missed him was like saying a person misses a limb when
it’s been amputated. Hank was ever there. His presence permeated all the space
around me. The wretched tears pooled and I did my best to hold them back.

“I don’t know. Honestly, I figured he’d have moved on by
now.” I shrugged.

“I spoke with him,” London said softly, and my head whipped
back to hers so fiercely I worried I’d given myself a crick. Her eyes were
downcast. Jesus! Was everyone talking to my ex besides me? “He told me
everything that happened. Of course, it was his version. I really think you
ought to give him a listen. Might change the way you feel,” she hedged.

Tripp’s hand came out and held mine. “Bridge wasn’t trying
to hurt you, Pen. He came to the loft unannounced. Begged to talk to London,
and I broke down and let him in. She was pretty pissed at me. London nodded
frantically and sucked on her straw, biting the thing to oblivion. It was such
a disgusting habit of hers, gnawing on straws until they were unable to
function properly.

“Do you want to know what he said?”

I shrugged, trying to pretend nonchalance, though I was
burning to hear anything about my beloved cowboy.

“He said he loved you. Said what you saw was a mistake.” My
eyes darted back to hers. “He also said that the chick was in the past and she
needed to stay there. Said he told her as much.”

“Yeah, well that’s not the way I saw it. Who are you gonna
believe?” I gritted through my teeth.

“Pen, I’m on your side. What the hell!” Her blue eyes were
shining so bright it was as if you could see through them. “I’m always on your
side. I don’t care who’s right or wrong. I only know what he told me and how
miserable you are.” Her tone softened and I knew she meant well. Everyone did.

“So, you think I should talk to him?” Both she and Tripp
nodded. “I wouldn’t even know what to say,” I whispered as I lost the battle
with my emotions. Tears scuttled down my cheeks.

London rushed around the table, plopped herself in my lap,
and pulled off my glasses. She held my cheeks in her cool hands and wiped the
tears away. I held her by the waist as she searched my brokenhearted gaze.
Tears ran down her face. She was never able to see someone she loved in tears.
She claimed it was her empathic ability. I believed it was her pure heart.

“I love you. Tripp loves you. Ollie loves you. Dean loves
you. Mom, Dad, Rio all love you. And more than all of those people put
together,
Hank
loves you.”

The sobs wracked my body and my sister held me as I cried
into her chest. I didn’t care that the tables surrounding us were probably
watching the train wreck in front of them. Crying, releasing all the ache I had
pent up while my sister held me, was cathartic to my bruised soul. After what
felt like eternity, I was all cried out. My tears dried, but London still kept
me close, humming into my hairline, rocking me lightly.

“How the hell am I going to get my girl to listen if she
won’t talk to me?” I snarled at Mac over a pint.

He’d finally gotten me out of the apartment and to a sports
bar. The Cowboys were playing, but I couldn’t focus on the game. My thoughts
were always on a stubborn, beautiful Angel who refused to see or speak to me.
I’d sent flowers and cards every day. I’d waited a few different times in the
lobby of her building, but she’d somehow escaped me. She was a smart cookie, my
girl. At the office she always had throngs of people willing to thwart my
attempts to see her.

“Hmm, I reckon’ you’re going to have to trick her into
seein’ ya,” Mac offered, and took a long pull from his beer.

“What do you have in mind? I’m takin’ any suggestions,
because I’m damned near out of ideas.”

We spent the next couple hours throwing ideas back and
forth. Nothin’ stuck, though, until around our fourth beers. We were both
feelin’ pretty darn good and the Cowboys were winning the game.

“Well, the job is almost done, right? You’ve been havin’
some conference calls with the architect.”

“Yeah, so? If I don’t talk to her, I’m gonna be stuck with
no crew and no girl!” the thought of all the changes I’d managed over the past
three weeks nearly had me bangin’ my head on the bar top.

I’d had meetin’ after meetin’ with some pretty rich fellas,
all to discuss the expansion of Jensen Construction. It had taken Mac and me a
full week to prepare all the materials. We even enlisted the help of Jess back
home, who was wicked smart with the technology end of things. She built Power
Points and charts that made Jensen Construction look real good. We ordered
glossy print materials and gave presentations in the most lux offices I’d seen
in all my years bidding on jobs. After five different meetings, we had three
separate offers to invest in the expansion of Jensen Construction. And I owed
it all to one man: Aspen’s father.

After the trouble back home with Aspen I contacted Mr.
Reynolds himself. I didn’t go into details about what happened, but what I did
do was humble myself and put all my cards on the table.

Aspen’s father was a shrewd business man with a lot of
contacts. He said he was surprised I didn’t ask him for money. I’d explained
that I didn’t want his handouts, that what I’d wanted was a chance to present
my business plan to some folks who were interested in my line of work. He
agreed because he felt he owed me for saving his daughter’s life. I assured him
the pleasure was all mine, but I still took his handout of prospective
investors.

Between him, Oliver, and Dean’s contacts, I had presented
within an inch of my life to five separate companies. Then the unthinkable
happened: We were offered more money than I ever thought possible. Apparently,
my work was worth more in NYC than I’d ever dreamed.

We contracted with those three investors, and I was now the
proud owner and operator of Jensen Construction, Incorporated, with a division
in Texas and a division in the Big Apple.

I had Oliver to thank for the office space. Beginning next
week, my new office was on the twelfth floor of the AIR Bright building. I was
certain that Aspen didn’t know about it. He’d gone behind her back and made the
property manager give me the two-thousand-foot office space free for ninety
days, and then at a rate that I knew was more affordable than warranted for the
space.

My little buddy was still hopping mad at me for what went
down with his Princess, as he called her. He knew, though, that all I wanted
was to be with her, that everything I was doing was supporting the goal in the
long run—Aspen and I and our happily ever after.

I just hoped to hell I could figure out a way to get her to
sit down and talk to me. Not being with her every day was like pouring acid
over my open, wounded soul. In all my years it never occurred to me that I’d
physically need someone, or that my heart would cease to beat without its mate,
but it was true. I needed Aspen like I needed to breathe, needed to eat, needed
to sleep. She was my end-all, be-all, and I had to find a way to get her back.

The hot wings and nachos Mac ordered arrived and he dug in with
gusto. I ate a few chips but only tasted sawdust. Nothing seemed right without
my girl in my life. Not even food.

Mac swallowed a gigantic chip with cheese that dripped down
his hand. Then he licked it clean.

“That’s fucking gross, man.” I laughed for the first time in
three weeks.

“This shit is amazing! We don’t have this gooey cheese back
home,” he said, his eyes filled with delight.

“That’s because it’s not really cheese, man. It’s some type
of processed, plastic cheese goo created by smart-ass scientists who were bored
off their asses and thought, ‘Cheese! Let’s make it last forever!’”

He snorted around his beer and licked each cheese-laden
finger. “You know, I don’t even care. It’s too good to care,” he added, and I
cringed as I popped in a French fry dipped in ketchup. Mac stopped chewing,
swallowed, wiped his mouth, and then looked off into the distance.

“What’s up, partner?”

“Well, she won’t see you, right?” I nodded. “But she goes to
work every day.” I nodded again. Oliver had confirmed that much after repeated
attempts at begging. “Why not tell them you want a meetin’ with the
stakeholders. Update em’ on the project and reveal the building personally?
She’d have to see you then.”

Mac had more to him than brute strength and the country
lifestyle. The man was a genius. I clapped him on the back. “Well, I’ll be. You
keep on surprising me, partner.”