Chandler: A Standalone Contemporary Romance (16 page)

R
emember
when I said I fall in love fast?

Well, I also act fast. Too fast sometimes. Often I start moving before my brain can fully process if it’s a good idea.

Like now.

I’m pedal to the metal the way I storm out of the study and up the stairs to our bedroom. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Standing in the doorway, I scan the room for something—anything—that will prove Hudson’s suspicions are out of place. My eyes land on her phone by the bedside table.

I’m not proud to say I don’t even hesitate. I don’t second-guess. I snatch it up and pray there’s no security code set on it.

There’s not.

Would someone who was trying to fuck me over be so trusting?

There’s only one way to know.

I search frantically through her email—mostly related to Accelecom business. And her photos—there are several of the kids from the day before and even a few of me I hadn’t seen her snap. Then her texts.

And that’s where I find it—a text sent this morning to a number with no contact name. The message includes nothing but a close-up picture of Mina.

Fuck.

My face heats as my blood turns hot. There goes Gwen’s notion that Genny was collecting memories. There is no good reason my date can possibly give for sending pics of my three-year-old niece to some rando number.

Hudson’s right.

He has to be.

That’s the most obvious conclusion. If there are any others, I don’t wait to consider them. With a burst of righteous determination, I toss her phone onto the bed and rush down to the patio. I’m full-on action, my head still trying to fit everything together, and even though I know I should pause to think this through, I can’t stop myself from marching up to where Genevieve is sitting next to Mirabelle and asking point-blank, “Why are you with me?”

Everyone goes suddenly quiet around her, forks frozen in the air, mouths half-open.

I ignore them all, their figures blurring in my periphery as I focus only on Genny, whose brows are perked in astonishment. “What?”

“Why are you with me?” I ask again. My tone, my posture, everything about the way I’m speaking to her is aggressive. Mean. Hurtful.

But I’m hurting so fucking bad right now that everything that comes off of me is poison and sharp.

Her cheeks flush as she gives me a tight smile. “I’m not sure this is the best place to discuss this.”

My mother, in typical Sophia Pierce fashion, pipes in. “Chandler, leave your lovers’ spats to—”

I raise my voice over hers, still addressing no one but Genny. “Is it because of your stepmother? Is she the reason? Did Celia tell you to worm into my life, and in exchange, you’ll get your dream job at Werner Media?”

“Celia?” my mother and Mira say in stereo.

Genny drops her napkin onto her plate and scoots her chair out. “Excuse me,” she mumbles politely to my family before standing and walking away.

Yeah, maybe it is best to continue this elsewhere.

I follow her into the house, dead on her heels. “Did she tell you to play hard-to-get? Huh? Then I’d never suspect a thing. It would be
me
pursuing
you
. Brilliant thinking, actually.” I feel the bite of my words as they shoot from my tongue. “Was that your idea or hers?”

She spins around suddenly to face me, and she looks so betrayed that it punches me in the gut. “I do not like the way you are speaking to me. It’s embarrassing and mean, and I don’t have to stand for it.”

But even though I see her pain, it’s not as vibrant as what I’m feeling. I pause only a beat before my next attack. “You can’t even answer me, can you?”

“What?” She throws her hands up. “What do you want to hear? That Celia is my stepmother? Yes, she is. Is that a problem? All this talk about worming into your life and blaming her—I don’t know what to even say to that. Where the fuck did it come from?”

I glance behind her to Hudson standing in the hall outside the kitchen. He frowns sympathetically then turns to leave, giving us privacy.

Genny traces my gaze with her eyes, catching sight of Hudson as he walks away. When she looks back at me, her expression is pinched. “What did your brother say to you?”

I fold my arms over my chest. “He simply told me I needed to look harder at the situation, and I am. And you know what it looks like? Like you’re sidling up to me for your own benefit.”

Her hands tighten into balls at her sides as she fumes. If she were a cartoon, there’d be smoke coming out of her ears. She opens her mouth to say something. Closes it. Then opens it again. “Sod off,” she says finally before twirling away from me.

I trod after her, stopping at the foot of the stairs when she turns to go up them. “Where are you going?”

She keeps climbing as she speaks. “I’m going to pack my bag, and then I’m calling a taxi. I’m not going to stay here and be belittled and interrogated when I’ve done nothing wrong.” She curses under her breath. “I knew I should have stayed away from you. I
knew
it.”

“That’s good. Playing the part through to the end. Really good.” I’m frustrated and mad. About everything, but right at this moment, I’m especially pissed that she’s leaving in the middle of this fight.

At the top of the staircase, she swivels to face me. “I’m not playing at anything, you shithead. You’re breaking my heart.” Her voice cracks, and god, her expression… She’s so crushed, so defeated, and suddenly it occurs to me that she’s not just walking away from this fight—she’s walking away period.

Somehow I didn’t predict this outcome.

My lungs suddenly feel empty. I wish I could draw her into my arms and make that look go away. This isn’t what I wanted. This isn’t how I wanted this to go.

I put my foot on the bottom step, ready to come up after her, but she puts her hand up in the air to stop me. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Don’t follow me.”

My stomach sinks. I’m frozen in place while I watch her disappear down the upper hallway.

Once she’s out of sight, I bring my fist to my forehead and bang it a few times. My brain is going through thoughts at light speed, and I’m only sure of one thing—I did not handle that well.

Desperate for a redo, I start up the stairs despite her request not to follow her. Halfway up I decide I should probably think things through a little before I talk to her again, so I go back down. Anxious adrenaline runs through me, and I pace the front foyer, trying to figure where to begin sorting out the jumble of facts rattling in my brain. She didn’t deny it. That’s got to be telling.

On the other hand, her expression, the way her voice cracked…

I’m so wrapped up in my head, I don’t notice Mira behind me, and I bump smack into her on one of my turns. “Chandler Aaron Pierce, what the hell was that?”

Yeah, I was just asking myself the same question.

I scrub my hand over my face. “I, uh, really don’t know.”

“Do you want to explain what you
do
know?”

Not really.

Maybe.

Actually, this is good. Mira can help me put things in perspective. Just…where to start?

I settle on the revelation behind today’s turn of events. “So, Celia Werner is Genevieve’s stepmother, and—”

Mira shakes her head. “That’s not good.”

…and I guess I don’t have to explain the significance of that. Of course I don’t. “I was literally the only person in the dark about her being the family’s archnemesis, wasn’t I?”

“Well…” She shrugs guiltily then quickly recovers her annoyance. “But that doesn’t explain why you were a total douche to that poor girl. You were terrible to her. In front of everyone!”

I’m about to defend myself when I remember the look on her face when she was standing at the top of the stairs. “
You’re breaking my heart
.”

“God, I was. I know I was.” I cup my hands over my mouth and blow into them like they’re a paper bag. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Mira.” I drop my arms to my sides. “I don’t fucking have a clue.”

“Oh, Chandler.” She reaches up to rough my hair then sweeps her palm around to cradle my cheek. “Love does that to a person.”

“How did you…?” The only person I’ve declared anything to was Hudson, and he hasn’t had time to tell anyone.

Mira rolls her eyes. “It’s freaking obvious. You’re head over heels, aren’t you?”

I nod. I am totally head over heels. I’m so head over heels that I’m pretty sure my brain’s in my ass. No matter what Genny’s done or what game she might be playing, my feelings are the same. And what kind of a fucktard would talk to the woman he loved like I talked to her?

“Yes,” Mira says, guessing at my thoughts, “you were a total prick. Now go fix it.”

I want to. I want to take everything back and beg Genny to forgive me for being an asshole, except there’s still that one issue. “I can’t. She’s spying on the family for Celia.”

Mira wrinkles her face in disbelief. “She is? No way. Are you sure?”

“I think so?” I don’t know what I think, honestly.

But those pics on her phone and the word of my brother… “There are reasons to believe she might be. Hudson thinks so.”

“Does Hudson
know
or just
suspect
?” She doesn’t wait for my answer. “Did you actually ask her?”

“Uh…” I sort of asked her. It’s what I meant when I asked why she was with me. But I didn’t ask her directly about the pictures or the business files, which, now that Mira mentions it, sounds like probably a better move. “Not really.”

With surprising force for her petite frame, she punches me in the shoulder. “You idiot! She at least deserves a chance to explain, don’t you think? Instead of you just jumping to conclusions. Seriously, between you and Hudson…”

She trails off as Genny appears at the top of the steps with her overnight bag in hand.

“There she is,” Mira whispers loudly. “Go fix it.”

“But I—”

She pushes me toward the staircase. “Go!”

When I glance behind me, Mira’s already darted out of the foyer.

Great. I still haven’t had a chance to work out what to say. This is going to work out real well.

But I don’t want things to end like this, so with a deep breath, I rush toward Genny as she descends the stairs. “Wait, Genevieve.”

Without looking at me, she brushes past.

“Stop, please. Let’s talk about this, okay?”

She ignores me, making a beeline for the front door.

“Stop!” I shout again. This time when she doesn’t, I reach out, grab her elbow and turn her around to face me. Just like the night before.

And like she did the night before, she slaps me. Hard. Harder than last night. Hard enough that I’m not sure there won’t be a mark.

Possibly, it’s a warning.

Except, okay, I’m a dog. I’m easily trained. And maybe not the best move, but the way this scenario usually works out between us is I get forceful, and she’s into it.

So I pull her to me and crush my mouth to hers. I’m eager and invasive, my hand pressed behind her neck to hold her in place. And she opens for me, meets my tongue, lets me in.

Then, suddenly, she shoves me away. “No. Stop.” She locks eyes with mine, and it hurts worse than the slap when she says again, “I want you to stop.”

My insides feel like I’m caught in a giant squeeze-press.

I step toward her. She steps back.

I reach my hand out. She shakes her head.

Studying her face now, I see that her eyes and nose are red, and since I highly doubt she was upstairs snorting coke, I can only guess she’s been crying.

“Genevieve…” I don’t recognize the smallness of my voice. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. Can we talk about this?”

She continues to shake her head. “What exactly do you want me to say?”

Right. That. “I don’t know. You could start by explaining why you have business files for Pierce Industries.”

For a second I think she won’t respond, but then she says, “So I could be prepared when I talked to your brother, you jerk. Hudson gave them to my father.”

Ah. Well. That is reasonable. But… “What about the pictures of my nieces on your phone? Who did you text those image files to?”

Her face goes white as her jaw drops in astonishment. “You went through my phone?”

“No. I…” Yes. The answer is
yes
. Totally the wrong thing, yet I try to defend myself. “You left it on the dresser.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to go snooping through it!”

“I wasn’t trying to snoop. I was trying to find answers.”

“You could have just
asked
.” Funny, that’s what Mira said.

“Fine. Are you spying on us for Celia?”

Immediately, I know it’s another wrong thing. Genny’s expression goes from mortified to indignant. Her mouth clamps tight, and she whirls away from me, headed toward the door.

I trip after her. “You told me to ask!”

“I didn’t think you’d have to.”

Her hand is on the knob when I run ahead and place my weight on the door, blocking her from leaving. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked.” Right now I’ll do anything to get her to stay and talk to me.

She pulls on the knob, but I’m not ready to let her go. “What can I say to make this better?”

With a sigh, she drops her hand and hangs her head. “It doesn’t even matter.”

“It doesn’t?” Because I’m an idiot, I perk up, hopeful.

“There’s no reason to care anymore. It’s pointless. If your brother told you this shit, there’s no way he’s going to strike a deal with Accelecom, and I’m not going to begin to try to figure out what bad blood there is between him and Celia because it’s not my place, but I’m sensible enough to see where I’m not wanted.”

I can’t stand it. I don’t care what proof there is against her or what the possibility might be that she’s working against our family. My gut says she’s innocent. My gut says she’s really hurting, and I. Can’t. Stand. It.

With a bang of my fist against the door, I say, “You know what? Fuck Hudson. I don’t care what he wants.”

Genevieve brings her eyes up to meet mine. “I wasn’t talking about your brother.”

Knife, meet heart. “Genny, no. I want you.” I’m practically begging. “I want you so much. You have to believe me.”