Imperfect Bastard (18 page)

“You texted me, saying all of that—I thought—”

He cut me off with a slash of his ice cold eyes. “You fucking thought wrong! To think that I fucking came here to make amends, to fucking apologize for my mistake, to—” His lungs heaved out, gasping for air as he stared me down, making me feel like a tiny, irrelevant fly. “I thought you were better than this, Chloe. Never in my life has a person disappointed me like that. My mother, I expected it from her, but from you? What a fucking joke. You almost had me, but thank God I came here to witness what you truly are.”

I became numb as my ears rung. “What are you saying?” My voice came out in a mere croak. My tears streamed, past caring that they possibly were making a tiny pool on the floor.

“You had me fooled. Thank fuck I didn’t fall in love with you.” He shook his head before looking at me with unmasked disgust in his eyes. “Go back to him; it’s where you belong.”

His parting words cut me as I watched him walk away. It all had happened so quickly I felt as though I were living a horrible nightmare.

A major part of me wanted to chase after him, beg him to reconsider and take me back again. However, even my idiotic heart knew he wouldn’t forgive me, not after he had said I had disappointed him more than anyone else in his life, more than his own mother. That revelation eviscerated me.

His mother was the worst kind. She was selfish and only cared about herself. The idea of caring for her son had never crossed her mind, and Drew had been left with his grandmother. And on the days his grandmother wasn’t there, he came to our home to eat meals with us.

His words rang in my head. How viciously grateful he was that he didn’t fall in love with me … I mean, why had he brought that up? It was obvious it had been me who had loved him ceaselessly throughout the years. I had gotten fed up, though. In my mind, I was fighting that love. It was my fight to survive, but it all had backfired, and now Drew loathed me more than anyone. There was no recovering from this.

After shedding so many tears my tear ducts ran dry, I gathered myself and began to wash my face in the powder room next to the kitchen. My strength and will lasted long enough to give a lame excuse to Cori that my brother was coming back soon from school and he needed to be out of here, because Jackson wouldn’t be pleased that I had brought a guy home.

Cori, bless him for being so understanding, didn’t realize what had taken place while he had been out cold in my bed. He immediately gathered himself to leave. But before he stepped out the door, he kissed me, and not a chaste quick one, but the thorough kind, the one that was supposed to leave a lingering impression. It would have, but after that encounter with Drew…
He
was all I could think about.

When Cori left, it was as if all the energy were drained out of me. It took every ounce of my power to get to the living room couch. I couldn’t bear to be in my bedroom, not after what I had done.

Even though I knew he wouldn’t take my calls, I still tried leaving voicemails and text messages to no avail. As the hours ticked by with no response from Drew, I became hysterical. It was then my brother found me curled up in a ball on the carpeted floor, hurting like never before.

“Chloe?” he said just as he spotted me, and when he got a clear view of my face, he fell to the floor with me, cradling me in his arms. “Jesus, what happened to you?”

“I fucked up. He hates me.” I sobbed harder into his shoulder, uncaring that he might know what had happened between his best friend and me.

“Shh …” He gently and carefully stroked my head. “No one hates you, sis. It’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll fix it somehow. I promise, we’ll fix it together.”

Shaking my head, I knew there was nothing left to fix. I had committed the greatest of sins in his eyes. “There’s no fixing this. Drew hates me.”

I could feel his body tense before he blew out a laborious breath. “Drew won’t be able to hate you, Chloe. The man cares for you. He always has, and he always will. I doubt that would ever change because you pissed him off. Whatever it is, he’ll get over it. Don’t worry, okay?”

“Not this time. He caught me with another guy in bed.” Saying it out loud made it all the more real.

For weeks, I had begun to think I was ready to move on, but the moment I realized I had lost Drew forever, my soul had been gutted. It had torn me up so badly I knew I was a changed woman, and those scars would never heal. It wouldn’t ever leave me. It would shadow me wherever I went, whatever I did.

“I didn’t realize he liked you like that,” Jackson stated in a way sounded like he was confused, as if he didn’t understand anything.

“He hasn’t been picking up my calls. I doubt he’ll ever speak to me again.”

Pulling me from his shoulders so we were facing each other, he looked me in the eyes with determination. “Go change. We’re going somewhere.”

How could he fathom that I would want to go anywhere? If he thought taking me out to eat would make me feel good, he should think again. Also, I didn’t want to leave, just in case Drew come back. This was his home, too, after all.

“I’m staying put. He might come home tonight.”

“I’m taking you to him now,” Jackson said, surprising me. “Talk to him. I can’t bear to see you crying like this. It hurts me to see you so broken, Chloe. If he’s mad, he’ll forgive you. I know him, and I know for a fact that he doesn’t get so pissed off unless he really cares about a person. So go change so we fix this.”

He didn’t need to say more, I was on my feet, gunning for the bathroom to wash up, trying to fix my blotchy skin.

In less than ten minutes, I was dressed in jeans and a simple white top, and shortly after that, we were in a cab.

My brother didn’t say much. He simply took my hand and gave it a tight squeeze, trying to give me reassurance.

Before my mind could go into playing more horrid scenarios, the cab dropped us off at the same hotel Drew had taken me to, the Mandarin Oriental. What was going on?

Chapter Nineteen

“Why did you take me here?” Nothing was making sense … unless this was where Drew worked. Then everything fell into place. “If he’s in the middle of his shift, I don’t want to bother him, Jacks.” Even if I was in shambles, I wasn’t the kind of woman who would pester a man when he was trying to make a living. Whatever it was I had to say to him, it could wait.

Jackson opened his mouth then shook his head in frustration. “I’ll let him explain it to you. I think that’ll be for the best.”

He guided me toward the entrance, and dazed, I followed. It wasn’t long before we reached the elevator where I saw him press the button to take us to the fiftieth floor. He seemed to know his way around here, too, which was odd. I didn’t realize friends were occasionally allowed to hang around someone’s work place, but I guessed it was different for them. Who knew anymore? My mind was conjuring up all sorts of things, and none of them added up.

“Don’t be nervous; it’s just Drew. He won’t bite.” Jackson gripped my shoulder before planting a reassuring kiss on my head.

He didn’t know Drew all that well, then. The guy I had seen earlier was unforgiving, and I very well knew he wouldn’t give me a chance to explain. At least I was trying, though. That was what counted the most.

When the elevator dinged, indicating that we had arrived, I was surprised to find Jackson staying put. For a brief moment, I was terrified at the thought of being left alone with Drew.

“You’re leaving?”

“I love you more than anything, little sis. I’ll be here for you, always, but I can’t fight battles for you. If you want me to wait for you, I’ll be at the bar.”

Giving him a wry smile, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thank you, but no. I’ll see you at home.”

“You can do this,” he whispered into my hair before setting me free

Jackson had already pointed to where I should be heading, so with shaky steps but determined mindset, I began to make my way, hoping for another chance.

It felt like forever until I reached the door and rang the buzzer. Was this an office for someone? I wasn’t sure, but I supposed I would know any moment now.

My body froze when I heard the door latch before it was yanked open by Drew, casually dressed in his jeans, barefoot, and not much else. For a moment, we just stared at each other.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in an almost hissing tone.

Nervously, I licked my lips as I tried not to melt into a puddle of goo as he stared me down with his famous ice-cold wintery look. “I came here to say I was sorry,” I finally managed.

“Is that the strawberries and champagne?” a British woman’s voice echoed in the background.

I gulped for air. Fuck, he was with a woman. It didn’t take much to understand what he was in the middle of doing.

“No, it isn’t,” Drew called out before shutting the door behind him. He then took a few steps and threw me an impatient look. “There’s nothing to say. Go home, Chloe.”

No. Not yet. I had so much to say. If he used force to push me away, then so be it.

“What are you doing here, Drew? And why did Jackson send me here … in this hotel? I don’t get any of this.”

He tensed before looking away and staring at the door then back at my face again. “I live here part-time—well, it was part-time, anyway, but as of today, this is my full-time residence.”

“But how can you afford to live here?” I asked before another thought dawned on me. “Unless you’re free-loading off of her. Drew, that’s not right. You—”

“Chloe, for once in your life, just stop!” he thundered out. “I’m not free-loading off anyone. I pay for my own. Is that enough to get you off my back?”

I felt like a tool. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so judgmental,” I muttered lamely while he simply glared at me. “You really don’t want to talk?” After what I had just accused him of, I doubted he would be accommodating. Sometimes, my mouth really needed to just zip it.

“I’m right here, aren’t I?” He sounded so wounded.

Had I realized before that his detachment was his way of needing space to think … But that text message hadn’t helped. In fact, it had pushed me to make a decision.

“I didn’t intend for it to happen. I swear. Please … You have to believe me.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he immediately retorted.

He was so apathetic I couldn’t be too sure if he was being sarcastic or understanding.

I had to set my pride aside and keep on pleading, hoping he would see my side and not rush to judge. We hadn’t gotten here all by my doing. He had taken part in it, too.

“I know it’s wrong to even say it, but I hope you can forgive me.” I had hurt him, and that hadn’t been my intention at all.

He blew out a breath, edgily shrugging. “You don’t need my forgiveness. There’s nothing between us, Chloe.”

He was bluffing. I knew he was.

“Your face earlier today told me otherwise.”

“It meant nothing,” he vehemently stated.

My heart went out to him. My hands itched to touch him, just as they had merely a few days ago. I missed him, but I had no grounds to, not after what he had witnessed. Though my throat constricted, I knew I had to say it.

“It meant nothing to me, Drew,” I blurted out, watching him flinch.

As he ran a hand through this hair, his chiseled chest heaved before my very eyes, drawing my eyes toward his lack of apparel.

“Right, so what do you want me to say? Bravo?” he jeered.

“You don’t have to be like this.”

“It has to be like this, Chloe!”

“But—” I tried to argue, but he held his hand up, stopping me.

“You have to stop with the excuses! Own up to it. You fucked him, and you enjoyed it.
Well done, you!
So now, can we please get on with our lives? Because I already have, and this thing that you’re doing, rehashing events of your own doing, means nothing to me.
You
mean nothing to me!”

His last few words hit me hard. He had been callous before, but this … This was a new level of cruelty.

Tears fell, and I didn’t even try to wipe them away. Instead, I gazed at him, braving out the frostiness of his glare.

“I just don’t know what to do. I can’t function, knowing I caused you pain. I’ve apologized, but you don’t want it. I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

“You caused me nothing, Chloe. You caused me nothing at all from start to finish. How clear do you want me to be?” he sneered, revolted.

Clear as crystal.

“I think you’ve said enough. No need to spell it out for me.” Without another glance, I walked away from him and everything I had once loved with all of my heart.

★

It was Friday afternoon, and I was heading toward my very first job interview. To say I was beyond nervous would be an understatement.

Ever since Monday night after I had left the hotel, I’d been functioning like a zombie. Sleep and food were the least of my priorities. My mind always zoned in on the past, recalling how I could have—would have—done things differently. But yesterday, one call had changed my perspective.

Had it not been for this job opportunity, I probably would be staring into space instead of sitting outside the office of
Teen Vogue’s
famed editor-in-chief, waiting for my turn to be interrogated.

I couldn’t be too sure what the questions would entail, but I had come here with a good mindset and willingness to work with whatever task she handed me. Anything, really, just to get me out of the rut I was in.

Five minutes later, I found myself almost in the hot seat. Well, based on the way she looked at me, the woman took the saying “resting bitch face” to another level.

“My brother called in a favor. He’s not one to do such things,” she stated succinctly and with just enough edge to make the person on the receiving end pay acute attention to her. “But here I am, making an exception for Miss Chloe Armstrong.”

Needless to say, I began to sweat profusely. “Thank you. It’s very kind of you to do so.”

Mandy Johnson simply ignored me as her eyes raked my meager résumé. While doing so, she gave me a little breathing room, just enough not to pass out before she brought me back with a mere question that sent my mind into a confused tizzy.

“What’s your size?”

Blinking at her, I bit into my lip, clueless as a little bird. “My size?” Did she mean shoe size or clothing-wise?

“Clothes, dear.”

Oh. This was fashion; of course she would ask me something relevant to the field.

Clearing my throat, I made a face before speaking. “Well, that depends on the season.”

“Clarify that,” she shot out with a raised brow, her eyes narrowed.

“Spring and summer, I’m a six, but fall and winter, I’m a four.” Stupid me. Why did I have to complicate things? I could have simply answered it instead of drawing more ire.

“Interesting.” She pressed her lips together then placed my résumé down in front of her and facing me with a considering look. “Have you considered that it could be due to water retention?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Her eyes narrowed again. “Hmm.” She dismissed the subject altogether. “Your résumé shouldn’t be considered as one. Have you no job experience? Not one to your name?”

I had expected this. Of course I had.

Shaking my head, I addressed her question, “No, this is my first job interview.”

“Sad.” She sounded just the opposite of the word. “Are you sure you’re cut out to work? If this were a normal interview, I wouldn’t even waste another minute of my time. Let me clarify that I don’t babysit privileged brats, and if you fail at one task, don’t wait for me to fire you; just leave your keycard on your desk and never come back. Am I understood, Chloe Armstrong?”

My mouth went dry. “I understand.”

“Do you, Chloe Armstrong?” She gave me a stern look, pinning me down with those eyes of hers. “You’re going to be in a trial position for eight weeks. We’ll re-evaluate then if you’re worthy to stay indefinitely. You start a week from today.”

She had just hired me, hadn’t she? Holy guacamole! My first job, and at
Teen Vogue
! Courtney would be in hysterics.

“Thank you. Thank you for this amazing chance! I promise to work extremely hard.”

“Do.” She raised her brow at me before taking a deep breath. “Life is about experiences. Late comers never win at anything,” she said chidingly before adding, “And, Chloe?”

My little inner victory dance came to a screeching halt when my gaze connected with hers. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Dress accordingly. Don’t disappoint me with funeral clothes.”

“Of course.”

Funeral clothes? I thought black was always a staple? Well, since I was going to be in
Teen Vogue
, I supposed a drastic change in my color preference would be good. I had eventually warmed to red. A few more hues wouldn’t hurt. Chuey and Manolo would surely love to go shopping with me.

Jesus, Mandy Johnson was terrifyingly cutting, not to mention grueling. Holy crap, the woman was going to make me really work for it. God, help me, because I would need it around here.

A celebratory drink with the boys was in order, but when my mind argued that maybe I should call and thank Drew for this brilliant idea of his, the little happiness I was basking in immediately fizzled. Drew wouldn’t welcome my call, but it had still been so kind of him to ask his friend to do this for me..

Who knew what the future held? This could be my calling for all I knew.

I got home, feeling upbeat, and headed straight into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of orange juice. While shuffling through the mail that was stacked neatly on the counter, my eyes were drawn to a smooth, black envelope that had expensive written all over it. Heck, even by touching it, you could immediately tell by the texture and the weight of the stationary.

Who would send us this? It was addressed to Jackson and me, but when I flipped it over to check out whom it was from, there was no addresses.

“Odd.” Placing my drink down, I hesitantly opened it and was stunned to realize that it had come from someone who was apparently close to Drew. Close enough to throw him a birthday party in the Hamptons.

It’s his birthday.
How could I have forgotten that it was coming up? Jackson, no doubt, would go. But should I? Was I brave enough to see him? I wasn’t sure. I supposed I would soon find out.