Trapped with Mr. Walker: Chapter 28
Trapped with Mr. Walker: A fake dating steamy romance (The Men Series – Interconnected Standalone Romances Book 6)
âWE DONâT NEED THAT. Give it to me.â
Suzeâs frantic voice calls after six-year-old Emmerson as she runs into the kitchen, brandishing the newspaper like a trophy before holding it out to me with a gap-toothed grin.
âMommy wanted me to give it to her. But youâre our guest, Auntie Lee-lee. You should read it first.â
My heart squeezes at Emmersonâs sweet little face. âThatâs very thoughtful of you. Thank you.â
Suze appears in the kitchen doorway, flustered, and her eyes pinch at the corners as she looks at me with sympathy. âIâm sorry. She grabbed it before I could check it.â
âItâs fine, honestly.â
I sound more certain than I feel as I unfold the paper and hold my breath as the front page comes into view. Yesterdayâs front page was a shock. I had no idea anyone from the press had seen me leave with my suitcases. But in a way, Iâm grateful it made the front page. At least the blackmailers will have seen it. Although, having my heartbreak splashed across every newsstand in the city is not my ideal day, either.
Probably one of my worst days ever.
And today is also going to be added to that list.
âHe looks good. Maybe a little stressed. But⦠Damn, Harley. Iâm sorry, but that man is fine. Iâm always on your side, no matter what, okay? Even though you wonât tell me what the hell you two fought about. But I canât deny it. He must have done something bad for you to choose to move in with me and thisâ¦â She peels something that resembles a gummy bear but is now furry off the coffee machine.
Suze opens the trash can and flicks the furry goo inside. Suze has my back. She always has. And I know that ultimately, if Iâd told her anything negative that Reed had said or done, then she would defend me with all the savageness of a lioness for one of her cubs. Iâve seen her in action and there is no way would I wish to be on the receiving end.
But I havenât been able to give her any reason to change her opinion of Reed because he hasnât said or done anything wrong. In fact, Iâve done nothing but sing his praises since Suze let me stay on her sofa two nights ago. I know I could have asked Maria. But her and Griffinâs place is too close to Reed. Iâd risk seeing him in the elevator or even when he goes to visit Griffin. Suzeâs place was the safer bet until I get my apartment back. The girl Iâve sub-let mine to asked if she could stay longer a couple of weeks ago. And at the time, things were perfect, so I said yes. I canât let her down. I can stay with Suze while I figure something out.
âRight. School breakfast club time. I love you.â Suze hugs me from behind.
âLove you, too. Have a great day. Iâll probably work late tonight. Get caught up on some things for Griffin that I had to delay when I took election day off.â
Suze heads toward the front door, and I call goodbye and blow kisses to Emmerson and Mason as they grab their school rucksacks and bustle out of the door.
I bring my attention back to the paper and the dazzling man on the front page. Reed is going into a restaurant with a group of people. Heâs wearing his gray suit with a crisp white shirt and red tie. The same one I watched him take off and coil around his hand the evening I wore my caticorn pajamas to wind him up.
The memory makes my stomach sink. Thatâs all it will be now. A memory that fades.
Looking at Reedâs smile as he talks to the attractive young woman next to him, I suspect the memories of us will fade for him long before they do for me. Heâs going to be busy running the city. Another few weeks and he wonât even have time to think about me. Thatâs if he isnât too busy already.
Suze is right. He does look stressed. His smile doesnât reach his eyes.
I study the picture again, my heart squeezing in confusion. I want him to be happy. But at the same time, if he looked like he had completely forgotten about me already, like I meant nothing to him, then I know that would hurt even more than it does now.
I fold the paper back up and leave it on the counter. At least I have lots to do at work today. Both of us will be kept too busy to think about anything other than what we need to concentrate on.
Itâs only 9:30 AM and I canât concentrate.
All I can think about is Reed.
I got into work a little later than I planned this morning as Suze lives in Brooklyn and I screwed up my estimations over how long the commute would take. I wasnât late, but I didnât have time to grab a coffee for Griffin and a latte for me from my favorite coffee place. I was planning on heading straight there once I checked Griffin didnât need anything else first. But when I got to my desk, there was a hot take-away cup there already, the name âAngelâ written on it in thick, black ink. And when I peeked into Griffinâs office, he had a matching cup on his desk.
Reed.
Heâd been here moments before I arrived. If I had been on time, then I would have seen him. Is that what he was hoping?
Flutters dance in my stomach at the thought, and I squash them back down. I canât allow myself to think like that. It wonât do either of us any good.
Iâve made a decision and I have to stick with it.
I knock on Griffinâs door and enter when he calls out.
âI brought you those contracts that need signing for the decorators.â I hand him the list of papers for The Songbirdâs private residential foyer, which has been having a re-paint the past couple of weeks.
âOkay.â He frowns at them as he signs each one. Heâs managed to delegate signing rights for most things to the hotel management team. But this is Griffin Parker. Heâs a control freak. So now and again, heâll ask me to intercept random contracts and paperwork for him to spot-check. I guess itâs how he puts his mind at ease. I know it drives Maria mad, as itâs the main thing they used to clash heads on when she used to manage The Songbird spa.
But that same facet of his personality is also why Iâm praying that going to him for help with the video was the right move. If thereâs a way to find out whoâs got a copy and why, then he will be able to.
âCould you please add this when you send them back?â Griffin hands me another signed invoice and my stomach churns as I read it.
âThis is for the wall in mine and ReedâsâI mean, in Reedâs apartment?â
âIt is.â Griffin lifts his eyes to meet mine and Iâm met with cool blue.
âIt was my fault. Iâm sorry.â I swallow as I look at him. Thank God we werenât in a regular apartment block with thin floors. Griffin and Maria would probably have heard every one of the lies I told Reed if we were.
âItâs no problem. Donât even think about it, Harley. Reed explained when he came by.â
âThis morning?â
âYes. He came to apologize and to offer to pay for the damage. I told him Iâd bust the rest of his knuckles if he mentioned it again.â Griffinâs lips stretch into a smile as he runs his hand down over his tie. âStupid fucker. Heâs lucky he didnât break his hand.â
I stand mute as my mind whirls. Reed came to offer to pay for the wall. He wasnât here just to bring coffee and try to bump into me. Or was he doing both? Did he want to see me as well? I screw my eyes up and rub my temples. God, this is a mindfuck. Disappointment drags me down like lead weight at the thought he wasnât here just for me. But I should be glad. I shouldnât want him here chasing after me, trying to talk to me. It will only mean I have to lie to his face more than I already have.
âHe also told me you had moved out.â
I nod weakly, opening my eyes to meet Griffinâs. âYes. Iâm staying with Suze. I told Maria.â
âI thought so. But I didnât ask. What you girls talk about between yourselves is private.â
âWhat about the conversations between us? Is that private, too?â
âI promised I wouldnât tell him for a week and I meant it. Iâve only spoken with people who I need to in order to find out whatâs going on.â He watches me closely as my chest sags in relief.
âThank you. Itâs Reedâs past and⦠I feel guilty enough talking to you about it, even though you already knew. I mean, you were there for him. You lived through that time with him. If I can talk to anyone then itâs you, butâ¦â
âI might be getting somewhere.â Griffin gives me a pointed look and raises his hand as I open my mouth. âWeâre not there, yet. But Iâve been talking to someone who has been able to analyze the beginning of the video. Only the beginning.â
I let out the breath I didnât realize I was holding as Griffin confirms that whoever it is has only seen the beginning of the video. The part before she pushes Reed down onto the bed and keeps undressing him.
Thatâs as far as I got the last time I opened it. Once I saw her naked and starting to pull Reedâs clothes from his semi-conscious body, I switched it off and ran to throw up. Itâs poor quality and too grainy to make out their faces properly. But I couldnât stomach another second.
I havenât watched the whole thing.
I canât.
Griffin took my phone from me and gave me a temporary one. He didnât tell me what he saw, but he told me enough to confirm that there is more on the video. A lot more. And that my suspicions were right about it appearing to be Reedâs assault filmed from start to finish.
âYou can have your phone back soon, Harley,â Griffin says.
âIt doesnât matter.â I drop my eyes to the floor and to a small patch of rainbow light thatâs been created by the sun shining through a vase of flowers on Griffinâs desk. If only there was a pot of gold at the end of it. A pot of gold in the shape of a solution to this giant mess.
I give Griffin a tiny smile. The upside of me not having my phone is that I canât stare at photographs of me and Reed that I took on it and cry myself to sleep at night.
I Google him and cry that way instead.
Most of the images are of him alone. Doing interviews, press conferences, and things like that. But there are some of the two of us looking happy together, as well as the awful breakup day images. Of the ones of us together, thereâs a mix of both before and after the presidentâs retreat. When we were a fake, and then a real couple. Reedâs eyes donât change between them. Thatâs the main thing that struck me as I stared at one photo after another after another. My eyes change. The way I look at him softens with each photograph, and my smile widens. Itâs too subtle for anyone but me to notice.
But Reed?
His eyes donât change.
Heâs looking at me with the same glow in them in every picture, from the very first one, until the last. Heâs looking at me as if heâs always known something special would connect the two of us one day.
And he was right.
We were special. Both of us held pain in our hearts from the trauma in our pasts. A trauma he claims he is free of. But I donât think he could make such a claim if he knew this video exists.
I donât know what it would do to him. And that terrifies me. What if it pushes him into that dark place again and there isnât anyone there to pull him back from the edge? The thought of him drowning him in the past again frightens me so much that for the past two nights, I have shaken and cried on Suzeâs couch. Only sleeping when exhaustion finally wins, giving me a few hoursâ respite.
âWeâll sort it out, Harley,â Griffin says, his voice steeped in steely determination. âI wonât let the woman in that video almost ruin his life again. Or steal what heâs only just found for the first time now, with you.â
When I get in after work, Suzeâs house is empty. She texted and said they may try to catch dinner and a movie tonight as a treat, and did I want to join them. But I declined. As much as I love her and the kids, I would be terrible company.
I change into some sweatpants and a t-shirt. I canât bring myself to put on my pajamas, even though theyâre the comfiest thing I own. They just make me think of him. Maybe I should put them in the trash. Itâs not like I can ever wear them again without feeling like my heart is being ripped out.
I pour a large glass of wine and flop down onto Suzeâs sofa. Iâm flicking through the TV channels half-heartedly when my phone rings. Iâve only given my new number to a handful of people, so I answer it without even looking at the screen.
âHello?â
âHarley?â
âStu?â I sit up straight. âWhy are you calling me? Is Reed okay?â
âHeâs fine.â
I slouch back against the cushions as I exhale. Hang on, I didnât give Stu my number.
âI got your number from Griffin,â he explains before I ask. âI wanted to see how youâre doing.â
âMe?â I pick a glittery pink thread off my sweatpants and frown at my slippers. Reed was right, these things do shed everywhere. I slip them off and curl my feet underneath me on the sofa. Perhaps they will be joining the caticorn pajamas in the trash can of heaven where the clothes from breakups go.
âYes, you. Reed says you havenât spoken to each other since⦠well, sinceâ¦â
âSince I left?â I drop my head against the sofa cushions and close my eyes. âWe havenât. I⦠I had a problem with my phone. Griffinâs getting it fixed for me, but until then I have a temporary number.â
âI see.â
âHow is he, Stu?â
âI called to ask how you are, Harley,â Stuart says gently before sighing when I donât answer. âHeâs focused. Reed is⦠being Reed. Only more intense, more determined, and more motivated. Even more so than when the campaign was running.â
âOh.â I swallow the dry lump thatâs lodged itself in my throat. âThatâs⦠good.â
If Reed is throwing himself into work, then heâs either coping better than me, seeing as I canât concentrate on anything right now, or heâs not as affected as I thought he was.
âIâm not sure it is. Heâs going to burn out before he moves to Gracie Mansion at this rate. Iâve known him a while. This is a new level of obsession, even for him.â
Stuart sounds worried and that worries me. Stuartâs feathers never get ruffled. Heâs smoothed over major scandals for political clients heâs worked with in the past. And he does it without ever breaking a sweat. Reed always said heâs excellent at his job, always calm, level-headed, knowing what to do in any scenario.
âI donât know what to say.â
My thoughts immediately picture Reed cracking his knuckles too harshly, the way he does when heâs stressed or anxious. I first noticed it when Maria and Griffin broke up for a while. It was ages ago now, but we all cared so much for them both, and to see them hurting was hard for all their friends. I would see him do it whenever he visited Griffin at work. His lips would be in a grim line as he sat and cracked them one by one. The sound made me shiver, like nails on a chalkboard. I didnât notice him doing it when I lived with him. Not to that sound level and intensity, anyway.
âLook. I donât know whatâs happened between you both. And itâs none of my business. But if itâs Bea making trouble, then Iââ
âWait? Bea? Why are you bringing her up?â I sit up straight again.
âShe came here the day before the press ran their story about you moving out. And then she was back yesterday. With a gift basket.â
âA gift basket?â I screw my nose up. Thatâs so weird.
âYeah. Odd, right? She said it was from her and Graham as a congratulations on winning the mayor role. But Graham wasnât with her either time. A guy wouldnât send another guy a basket of fruit and shit, anyway. It was obviously only from her. I doubt Graham even knew she had brought it.â
âWhy would she do that?â I scramble through my thoughts to think of any reason Bea might start being nice when she has all the empathy of a praying mantis that rips its old mateâs head off and then eats him.
âI donât know. But Reed was in a foul mood afterward. Look, Harley. Iâm not telling you this to suggest thereâs anything to worry about. I can easily tell you that Reed would never go back there. I wasnât even going to mention it. I just called to see how you are. Paige was asking after you.â
âShe was?â Warmth flickers in my chest as I picture her adorable little face and the way she calls Reed, âWeedâ.
âWell, you can tell her that Iâm fine next time you speak to her. And you can tell her that I have some cute bunny videos to show her when we nextâ¦â My heart sinks. There will be no reason or circumstance where I will spend time with Paige again. Not now that Reed and I arenât together.
âActually. Iâm looking after her just while her mom goes to an appointment tomorrow. Why donât you meet us on your lunch break? We can walk in the park?â Stuart says.
âAre you sure?â I ask, but my lips are already stretching into the first smile Iâve had in days. Thereâs no room for heartbroken moping with a cute as a button five-year-old who shares my love of animals and funny videos. âI would love that.â
âAll right, then. See you tomorrow at twelve-thirty.â
I end the call, feeling more positive than I have all day. This is how I will have to do things. One day at a time. Something nice to look forward to that keeps me moving forward.
I drain the remnants of wine from my glass and put it on the floor next to my discarded slippers. Iâm staring at them when my phone rings again.
âHello?â
âHarls.â
The deep voice on the other end has my stomach leaping into my throat. Itâs been two days. Two days of not hearing from him. I purposefully didnât give him my new number so that he wouldnât call me. Although, I also asked him not to. So maybe he hasnât even tried until now. Maybe this is the first time. But then how would he have gotten it? Iâve only just ended my call from Stuart. Could he have told him so quickly? Could he haveâ?
âI can hear your brain thinking from here,â Reed says, his voice warm and sprinkled with amusement.
âItâs⦠yes, itâs certainly thinking.â I whip my eyes around the room and then to the window. I get up and tiptoe over there, peeking through the drapes. I donât know what Iâm expecting to see. Reed on the doorstep? But heâs not. The street outside is empty except for one woman walking past carrying grocery bags.
âI forced Griffin to give me your new number when I saw your old phone in his office. Mariaâs already threatened to have his balls for letting me have it, so go easy on him.â I can hear the smile in Reedâs voice before he exhales heavily. âGod, I miss you.â
âReed, weââ
âItâs all right. You donât have to say anything if you donât want to. I just⦠I just really fucking miss you, Harls.â
Thereâs a cracking down the phone and I drop my head forward into my hand to rub at my temples, attempting to ease the pounding thatâs building there.
âAre you cracking your knuckles?â
Thereâs a pause.
âGuilty,â Reed confesses with a soft chuckle.
âStuart said youâd been doing it more.â The corners of my lips lift at the sound of Reedâs amused grumble.
âYouâve talked to Stuart then? But you canât talk to me?â
The tiny smile drops from my face. Reedâs voice is soft and not accusing in any way. Yet, the undercurrent of hurt and confusion screams through his words. I wish I could tell him that thereâs nothing I want more than to be with him tonight, instead of drinking wine alone on my friendâs sofa.
But I canât.
âIâ¦â
âItâs okayâ¦â He sighs. âNo. Thatâs a lie. Honestly? Itâs far from fucking okay to me that you donât feel you can tell me everything thatâs going on. Because I know youâre not telling me everything⦠But thatâs on me. If you canât talk to me about anything, and I mean anything, then thatâs my fault. Not yours.â
âReedâ¦â My voice pitches as I squeeze my eyes closed. âItâs not because I donât want to⦠Itâs⦠There are things⦠Iâm sorry,â I whisper finally, my chest sagging.
What else can I say? Sorry will never explain it. Sorry will never be enough. But itâs the only safe word I have.
âGriffin mentioned you havenât been sleeping?â Reed says, changing the subject.
I look up to the ceiling and shake my head. Unbelievable.
âWhat else did he tell you? That I had a pee break at seven minutes past eleven and that I sneezed a grand total of nine times through the day?â I roll my eyes and wrap one arm around my body.
Despite the conversation feeling heavy only moments ago, Reed laughs, immediately lifting the cloud away that was threatening to engulf us both.
God, Iâve missed his laugh. Iâve missed everything. But especially his laugh. Whenever I hear it, I know that in that exact moment, heâs happy. And that makes my heart full. Talking to him has always lifted my spirits. Even though I should be ending this call before things get harder, I canât. Hearing his voice and laugh again feels too good.
âHow are you?â I ask.
âIâd be better if you were here,â he answers immediately.
My heart hammers in my chest, and I sniff as hot tears spring to my eyes. âYou would?â
âYes, Angel.â
I clasp my hand over my mouth to stifle the small sob that spills from it.
Angel.
âReed, I canât⦠we shouldnât beââ
âHey, hey, itâs okay. I donât want to upset you. I just called to say goodnight. Are you in bed?â
âNot yet.â I suck in a breath and wipe my eyes with my free hand.
âGo and get ready. Iâll stay on the line.â
I look at the pile of bedding on the floor by the sofa, ready for me to make up my bed for the night.
âI need to set it up. And brush my teeth.â
âGo do it. Iâll wait.â
âOkay.â
I leave the call connected and put it onto speaker as I make up the bed, pausing as I finish and hesitating over what to say next. Reed beats me to it.
âGo use the bathroom, Harls. Iâm still here.â
I nod even though he canât see me, and I do as he says. When I come back, I flick the lamp off and slide beneath the blankets.
âIâm back.â
âGood.â The tenderness in his voice is calming and soothing, the same way it always was when he whispered goodnight to me and kissed my hair when we went to bed. Two nights without it. Two nights missing him.
Missing everything.
âNow close your eyes. Iâm going to stay on the line until I know youâre asleep.â
âYou donât need to do that,â I say into the dark.
His voice fills the room, chasing away the shadows. âI do, Angel.â
And as I close my eyes, the gentle chords of his guitar carry through the phoneâs speaker, followed by his deep voice singing a song that Iâve heard on the radio, Jason Mrazâs âI wonât give up.â
Heâs singing it to me. He couldnât make it any clearer. He doesnât want to give up on us.
But he has to. Otherwise, he could lose everything.
I screw my face up tight and bury it in the duvet to muffle my crying as I listen to him. Every word is impregnated with meaning. Every syllable, a promise to me that he will fight for us. But he doesnât know what heâs fighting against.
The song comes to an end, and I freeze, afraid to move or speak.
Afraid to do anything.
Iâm not strong enough to lie to him in this moment when heâs just opened his heart so honestly to me.
So I say nothing. I do nothing.
Reed stays on the line for a long time, probably trying to work out if Iâm asleep.
Then finally his voice cuts through the night.
âHarls, I loââ He clears his throat, thinking better of whatever he was going to say, and simply says, âSleep, Angel.â
Then he hangs up.