Unobtainable (23 page)

The waiter handed out menus and took our drink orders, I settled on sparkling water while the others ordered beers. Looking over the menu was like being subjected to Chinese water torture, it was like a slow painful death. The menus colorful food illustrations only added to my nausea. I figured if I ordered a small appetizer and cut it up or mushed it around on my plate, no one would notice I wasn’t eating it. But the minute I noticed a photo of clams on the half shell surrounded by slimy white things that resembled snot, I was done for.

I stood without a word, holding my napkin to my mouth and darted to the washroom. Taking several deep breaths and flushing my face with cold water, I stood over the sink willing my guts to stop rolling and my head not to explode.

“What’s wrong with you?” I turned to find Harley watching me with his hands in his pockets.

“Not feeling so great,” I dabbed my face with wet paper towel. “I’m going to graciously bow out of dinner and go take a few aspirin before we leave. Sorry.”

“Headache?”

“Killer,” I said. “Please tell your friends I said sorry and it was nice meeting them.”

“I’ll be up in a while,” was all Harley said as I walked past him.

~Harley~

Dyson was sitting on the end of the bed with his head in his hands, staring at the floor when I got to the room. I walked over to the phone, watching him as I called the desk to have our airport limo meet us at the front entrance and have someone come get our luggage.

“How’s the head?”

“Got it down to a dull roar,” he sighed.

“Good,” I didn’t know what else to say.

As I finished packing my bags, Dyson’s eyes stalked my every move. Man he was miserable and I knew it was because of the way I was dealing with him. I simply couldn’t help it. I needed to push him away, to make him hate me enough that this love thing would never be mentioned again.

Once our bags were picked up I did a quick sweep of the room and grabbed my coat. Dyson came out of the washroom and shrugged on his Harley jacket, he was sexy as fuck in that thing.

“Ready?” I asked, he gave me a lethargic nod.

At the airport we sat in silence waiting to board, I read a magazine, he stared out at the runway.

I wasn’t sure if it was his head or his reacting to me, but the man was weirdly off as he slumped into his seat and fastened his seat belt, even once in the air he didn’t bother to take it off and refused any refreshments.

“Dyson, you want some aspirin or something?”

“Nope,” he answered, leaning his head against the window. “What did I do?”

I was caught unprepared by his impulsive question. I wasn’t confident an airplane was the best place for this discussion. I had visions of the air marshal escorting us away or Dyson leaping out the door of the plane at forty thousand feet.

“Not now, later.”

“Now,” he said. “You’re distant and cold. I’ve said or done something to make you dislike me.”

I took a deep breath, looking over at him staring out the window at the black sky, there was nothing to see except the lights on the tip of the wing but he was fixated anyway.

“You’re getting too close,” I whispered, not wanting others to hear. “I’m afraid it has gotten too real.”

“I don’t understand…tell me what the fuck I did.”

I sighed and he turned his head in my direction. “You said you love me. You can’t love me.”

“Was I drunk when I said it?”

“Yes.”

“That explains it then,” he turned back to the window. “I had no clue what I was saying. I probably thought you were one of my brothers, Toby or Clay. You can’t hold a drunken moment of stupidity against me for Christ’s sake. You don’t get drunk and say stupid things?”

I didn’t want to but I had to agree with him, he was right. I can’t begin to process the idiotic things I’ve done while intoxicated or the amount of insulting things I’ve done in an inebriated moment.

“I guess.”

“Wake me when we’re ready to land?” Dyson asked, cozying himself into the window and closing his eyes drawing a conclusion to our discussion.

I could only be thankful it was short and sweet. I put in my earphones and concentrate on the audio book on my phone.

There was no doubting that Dyson was not well. When we got home, he walked right past me and up the stair, as I stood watching him close his door behind him. He left his bags at the door. I decided since he hadn’t eaten anything I should warm up some chicken soup and take it up to him with his bags.

He was sound asleep curled into a ball beneath the sheets. I pulled the comforter from the end of the bed over him and gathered his clothes, tossing them into his laundry basket. I set the bowl of soup on his side table and in the process nearly dropped the spoon on the floor.

I would have loved to have climbed in beside him but I knew it wouldn’t be the right thing to do, I would be sending mixed signals again and I didn’t want him knowing I had feelings for him. Besides, he was sick and needed his rest.

~Dyson~

I heard Harley come into my room this morning and I childishly pretended to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to feel anymore humiliated than I already did. I told the guy I loved him and all he told me was
I can’t
, what the fuck kind of reaction was that? And what the fuck is
too real
? I was confused, I was angry and the good thing going for me so far today was the fact that I was feeling better. I was going to be late, what’s new, but I was going to go to work and act like it was just an average everyday kind of day if it killed me.

Clair gave me a huge hug and ran off down the hall to the washroom to try her new earrings out. She said she loved them and by the squeal she made when she opened the package, I was sure she did.

“Excuse me.”

I turned and a rather rough looking character in a tattered brown leather jacket and cowboy boots smiled at me.

“Can I help you?” I asked, placing my briefcase on the reception desk.

“I’m looking for someone, I was told he works here,” he said, with a charming Texan drawl.

“Well, I know everyone, who are you looking for?”

“Harley Cooper.”

“Mr. Cooper’s office is right along that hall, last on your right,” I told him. “Do you have an appointment?”

He shook his head with a smile. “I’m here to surprise him. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

I guess my hesitation caused him to elaborate and I was thankful I didn’t have to ask.

“We go way back, I knew him before he moved here. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him in a coon’s age. A friend said I should look him up while I was in town. I thought maybe it would be a good night for a few drinks and a catch-up.

He seemed okay, friendly enough, who was I to judge Harley’s friends?

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Harley’s door was slightly ajar. I watched the friend knock and step back while he waited for an invite in.

“Come,” Harley called out, his friend walked in, leaving the door open.

As I passed his office on the way to mine I glanced in the door to see Harley’s steely glare.

“What the fuck do you want?” were the words Harley greeted his friend with.

“Is that anyway to speak to an old friend?” I heard before hightailing it into my office.

Harley wasn’t pleased to see Mr. Southern charm. He was pissed, I felt responsible for his less than pleased reaction, after all I had directed his friend to his office without checking with him first. I straightened my tie and I stood in Harley’s doorway watching the two stare each other down.

“Mr. Cooper, would you like me to see this gentleman out?” I asked.

“I’ll deal with him, you can go,” he shot me a fierce glare. “Find something constructive to do elsewhere.”

Eww…I had been properly dismissed by Mr. Cooper. I took my cue to fuck off while I had the chance and went back to my office, giving the door a hefty, building shaking slam.

My phone vibrated in my pocket as I hung up my jacket and I waited until I was seated behind my desk before checking it out.

Tag: I got the dirt lol. Want to meet for dinner?

Me: From where this time?

Tag: Moscow. Meet me at Digby’s at 7.

Me: Okay but you’re buying.

Tag: Deal shithead. 7 and don’t be late!

Me: lol Me late?

Tag: 7

Me: Yes mother.

~Harley~

“Aren’t you happy to see me? Don’t tell me you didn’t miss me?” Bruno challenged, as he sat down, leaning back with his fingers meshed together across his chest.

“How did you know where to find me?” I asked, sitting behind my desk, glad for the large piece of furniture between us.

“Your mommy has some very resourceful detectives at her disposal. It didn’t really take them long to pin you down.” He raised his arms. “And here I am.”

My heart was pounding so hard in my chest, it was agonizing. Each breath I sucked in was equally painful. Although I sat deadpan, I was positive he could feel my fear and had the heavy wooden desk not been in the way, Bruno would have noticed my knees nervously quaking.

“What do you want?”

“First off,” he sat up, leaning his elbows on the edge of the desk. “Your mother sent me to check up on you, make sure you’re behaving yourself. Keeping that low profile you agreed to…and me? Well, I came to get back what’s mine.”

“I don’t fucking belong to you, and you can tell Mrs. Helmsley-Cooper to do her own fucking dirty work. I want nothing to do with her or you,” I stood, pushing my chest out, taking a dominate stance. “Now get the fuck out of my office and don’t come back.”

I somehow calmly strode over to the door and held it open. It took an unreasonable amount of time for Bruno to get to the door and when he finally reached it he ambushed me, slamming me up against the wall and pinning me under his weight. He was as strong as I remembered and just as large.

“Oh, I’ll be back, that’s a guarantee,” he grasped my chin and whispered against my ear, “She wants to see you and what mommy wants, mommy gets.”

He smashed his lips to my cheek roughly kissing it, the tinny taste of blood filling my mouth as my teeth tore into the soft tissue. Fighting him was futile, it only drove him with reckless desire, any amount of combat turned him on, I knew this from experience. Bruno was a sick bastard.

“Next time I’ll bring my handcuffs and we can have some fun,” he tormented, as I fought to look away. “I’ve missed that tight little ass of yours.”

My office door opened and Clair peered around. “Mr. Cooper, is everything okay in here?”

Bruno released me, straightening his jacket and combing his fingers through his greasy hair. I wiped his spit from my cheek with the back of my hand and stepped towards my desk.

“Mr. De Palma is just leaving, Clair,” I told her, straightening my tie. “Make sure he leaves the building and remember his face…if he’s stupid enough to return call the cops and have him arrested.”

“Yes sir. This way please, Mr. De Palma,” Claire stood, pointing in the exits direction with a glare behind her shining smile.

Bruno gave me a vile grin, his eyes were on fire. He wanted more than blood and it was going to happen over my dead body.

~Dyson~

“Dyson, can I come in?” Clair asked.

“You don’t need to ask, you’re always welcome,” I said with a smile, as she came in and closed the door. “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure, but some guy was in Harley’s office and from what I saw he had Harley up against the wall. I think if I didn’t walk in when I did someone was going to end up in the hospital.”

“Is this guy still in there?”

“No, I showed him out.”

“Did this guy have a southern accent?” I asked, worried because I had directed him straight to Harley.

“No, but I didn’t like the way he was looking at me,” she scrunched her nose. “You should go see if Harley is okay.”

I considered what she was asking. “If he wants me involved in whatever it was, he’ll come to me, Clair. It’s not my place to interfere.”

“But I thought you were friends,” she said, scowling. “He may be in some kind of trouble. Don’t you want to help him?”

“Clair bear,” I stood and walked over to her, giving her a shoulder cuddle, as I directed her to the door. “Harley
is
my friend. But it’s really not my place. His personal affairs are his own. Like I said if he needs me, he knows where I am.”

Clair shoved me, glowering, “Men are so stupid! Are you scared in case someone sees that you give a crap? Fine! I’ll go check on him myself.”

She had no idea how badly I wanted to go to Harley’s rescue, how hard it was to restrain myself

“You do that,” I told her as she swung the door open and left without a goodbye.

So if it wasn’t the southern charmer whose accent came and went, who the hell was scuffling with Harley? It had to be him. I was concerned after all.
Maybe I should go check on him,
I thought.

As I was about to go see Harley my phone rang. I looked at the screen, it was my grandfather’s attorney.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Michaels? It’s Ken Spiro, your grandfather’s attorney.”

“Mr. Spiro, how are you?”

“Very well thank you, I was hoping to meet with you and Mr. Cooper later this week, could we set something up?”

A meeting with my grandfather’s lawyer out of the blue sent up red flags. Had he discovered our deception? I worried the inside of my cheek.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, no. There’s no problem. I would rather speak to you both in person though. I could come by your home, say Thursday evening?”

I thought for a moment. Do I tell him the truth that the sham is over, that I perjured myself and I’m sorry? My head was spinning.

“I’m not sure what Harley’s schedule is for the week, we’ve been away. Could I find out and call you back?”

“That would be fine. Let me know as soon as possible so I can work a time into my calendar.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

When I finally made it to Harley’s office he was gone. Clair told me she tried to talk to him and he left saying he’d be gone for the rest of the day. It was several hours later when I finally arrived home. I would have just enough time to unpack my bags from our trip, throw in a load of laundry, shower and get dressed before meeting Tag for dinner.

I stepped out of the elevator, pulling down the gate sending the elevator back to the ground floor and turned towards the door. Mr. southern charm was standing smoking a cigarette, leaning his shoulder into the wall. All of a sudden the situation felt creepy, my comfort level evaporated and I halted in my tracks.

“We meet again,” he said, only this time he didn’t bother with the accent.

I swallowed back my apprehension and walked over to where he stood.

“There’s no smoking permitted in the building,” I told him.

“Terribly sorry,” he said, crushing the lit end of his cigarette into the grout between the bricks. “I forgot I’m not in Texas anymore.”

Disgusting
, I thought to myself.

“Seems you forgot your accent too,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Just wanted to see where Harley called home. He’s doing okay for himself, huh?”

“Do you work for Carraro?” I asked, thinking back to what Harley told me would happen if Carraro found out he was doing well.

“Who?” Mr. southern charm asked, the look on his face saying he had no idea who I was talking about.

“Never mind,” I said. “Harley’s not here and I don’t think he’d be too happy with you showing up here unannounced, you need to leave. Who are you anyway?”

The rattle of the elevator as it started to ascend startled us, we both waited as it came to a stop and the cage rose, Harley stepped off with a fiery glare in his eyes when he caught sight of our guest. He took his phone from his pocket and dialed. He had this look of pure hate on his face, he was almost unrecognizable.

“I’d like to report an intruder,” Harley told the person on the other end of the phone. Mr. southern charm stepped towards Harley. “One moment please.”

“You don’t want to do that,” Mr. southern charm said. “I’ll leave. Look, I’m practically on my way.”

“Sorry, it seems I’m mistaken…thank you anyway.” Harley disconnected the call and stood defiant.

The standoff seemed to last a long time as the pair stared angrily at each other before Mr. southern charm entered the elevator.

“Try that stunt again and I make sure the cops arrest you. You tell
her
not in this life time, and as far as you? Take a fucking walk. I’ll see you dead before you get near me again.”

“We’ll see.”

Mr. southern charm gave Harley an impudent sideways smile and I’m sure had the gate for the elevator not been in the way, Harley would have leapt inside and torn his head off. I’d never seen him that angry. He stood watching the elevator, he was shaking with fury.

“Inside!” Harley growled, without making eye contact.

There was no way I was going to attempt a conversation with Harley Cooper until he had time to unruffle his feathers. I had questions about the man who boiled Harley’s blood but I wasn’t going there. I took an extra-long shower and elected to forgo the pleasure of unpacking my things, therefore the laundry wasn’t going to get done tonight either. If any other day had sucked more during the existence of mankind I wasn’t aware of it.

I slipped on my favorite jeans and sat on the bed with my phone.