Coming Clean (5 page)

Back out in the bedroom, I made the most of my time by making the bed, and then I took a seat again, waiting for him to emerge from the bathroom. Once the water shut off, I knew it would be only moments before he came out. I was wrong. By the time Shaw made an appearance, his teeth were brushed, his hair was styled, his face was clean-shaven, and his cologne had been applied. But he was still naked. With the exception of the towel he wore around his waist, that is.

My body had changed markedly over the last three years. Having a baby never affected the father's physique, only the mother's. Where there used to be a flat belly, I now had a pooch with faint stretch marks marring my skin. Proof that I was a tigress who'd earned her stripes, they said. And the gravitational pull of the entire freaking universe had inevitably found what used to be perky breasts. My hips were wider, my ass a little flatter, and all my muscle tone was now solely in my arms, and only then thanks to packing Abe around so much. But Shaw?

Shaw's body hadn't changed in the least. Strong shoulders sloped into arms corded by taut muscles. His chest was toned to perfection, decorated by a smattering of curly hair in the center. The way his abs rippled seemed like a trip to the gym was part of his regular schedule, though it wasn't. And then there was that V cut to his waist. He was definitely still drool worthy. In that moment, I wished with all my might that he'd stalk over to where I sat and push me back onto the bed to have his very wicked way with me. Just like he used to do. Though that wasn't going to happen.

“What's up?” he asked as he went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of underwear.

I wanted to answer him, I really did, but my brain went all wonky when the towel dropped to the floor and his glorious ass was bared. And that wasn't the only thing that had been bared. Apparently, his wet body exposed to the cool air of the room had no effect on Shaw's other rather endowed assets. His cock and balls hung heavy amid a patch of dark hair, the size most men probably wanted to be. And he was
limp,
for goodness' sake.

“Hello? Earth to Cassidy,” he said, snapping the boxer briefs in place and removing the distraction.

“Sorry,” I said, closing my eyes to gather my wits about me, though all I could think about was the time in Stonington when I'd begged to suck his cock and he had denied me over and over again until he'd been ready to
feed
it to me. “Um, I need…I need to talk to you.”

Crossing the room to his closet, he pulled out his attire for the day and began to dress. “About?”

Good question. Perhaps if I hadn't seen him nude, I would've known the answer. Just as I was about to attempt verbal communication, his cellphone rang.

“Hold on,” he said, grabbing it to check the caller ID. “Shit. I have to take this. Matthews,” he answered the phone without waiting for any further argument from me.

Defeated, I huffed out of the room, closing the door none too quietly behind me. Once I'd stomped my way into the kitchen, I started a pot of coffee and planted myself on one of the stools at the counter bar. I'd be the first thing Shaw would see when he came out of the room, an obstacle on his way out the door. It dawned on me that there was something wholly wrong about thinking of myself as an obstacle in the first place, but that was what I'd become.

When Shaw came out, he was completely dressed with briefcase in one hand and his cellphone still in the other, just wrapping up a conversation. “Okay, I'll be there within a few minutes.”

Ending the call, he put the phone into his pocket, leaning down as he did so to give me a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Have a good day. I'll see you when I get home.”

A chaste kiss. That was all I was going to get? I remembered a time when Shaw's farewells included bending me over the counter for a quickie because he couldn't stand the thought of being away from me all day. Those were the sorts of quickies I didn't mind, feverish and passionate, so unlike the one from last night.

My trip down Memory Lane nearly sidetracked me from my mission as Shaw was two steps away from disappearing for the day. I stood and rushed for the front door, throwing myself against it to block him from leaving.

Shaw pulled up short, drawing his head back in confusion. “What are you doing?”

I had to admit even I was a little shocked by my behavior. I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. “I've been waiting all morning, Shaw. Patiently. Can I have a minute, please?”

His brow furrowed, the first sign of concern I'd seen from him in what seemed like forever. And then he looked down at his watch again. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “But a minute is about
all
I have. What's going on? Is Abe okay?”

“He's fine, but we need to talk.”

He waved his free hand in the air for me to continue with every indication that I should make it quick. “You said that earlier. Should I guess at the topic, or would you like for me to read your mind?”

“Us,” I said simply. “We need to talk about us.”

Right on cue, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Cass, Wade apparently has some epic announcement he wants to make to the rest of the staff today, but not before discussing it with me. As I speak, he's sitting in my office, waiting for me to haul my ass in there. I'm sorry, but I can't do this right now.”

“Well, I
have
to do this right now. I can't go through another second without doing it. Wade will get over it.”

Shaw dropped his briefcase onto the couch, undoubtedly aggravated by my insistence. “Fine. What is it? I already apologized for yesterday, so what could I possibly have done wrong between last night and this morning?”

“Are you serious right now?” I was flabbergasted by his annoyance. “You make me feel like I can't talk to you about things that are bothering me, Shaw. Don't you see that as a problem? This is exactly why I wanted to see a counselor. Because you refuse to talk to me about our issues.”

His stare was blank, though the way he looked down at that stupid watch was a clear indication that the clock was running on how much time he'd allow me to get out what I had to say.

“I
love
you.” Hearing my own voice, I wondered if people were supposed to sound so desperate when they said those three words. Like I was willing him to love me back. To say it and convince me that he meant it. “Look at me.”

He did.

I needed to hold his attention without any distraction so I could see with my own eyes what I knew with my heart. And oh, God, but I hoped my heart was wrong. “Tell me.”

“Really? You want to do this right now?” When I didn't answer, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back in aggravation. Then he put a hand on his hip, took a deep breath, and faced off with me again. But he looked nothing like the Shaw I once knew. The way he regarded me was like he was looking right through me. “I love you, Cass.”

I shook my head, knowing in an instant that what he said wasn't true.

Shaw jumped on my reaction, quick to come to his own defense. “Yes, I do. I tell you I love you
every single day
. Multiple times a day.”

I nodded because it was true. He did. “You
tell
me. But it's the way you look at me.”

Another one of those exasperated sighs. “That doesn't even make any sense. What are you talking about?”

“It's not the same, Shaw.”

He threw exasperated hands into the air and spun around in a circle. “Oh. My. God! How? How is it not the same?”

“Your eyes don't match the sentiment anymore. It's like you're on autopilot.” I closed my eyes to gather my thoughts and find the words that would make him understand. Once I had them, I opened my eyes again. “You used to look at me like I hung the moon.”

He saw me then, those piercing blue eyes conveying the potent truth of his next words. “That's because once upon a time, you did.”

Finally. Truth.

There was a moment of stillness then. A moment that held the same eerie awkwardness one might feel during a ceremonial silence at a funeral. I think we both realized it at the same time. Shaw picked up his briefcase, turned his back to me, and walked away. All I could do was stare after him. So I did. I stared until the tears flooding my eyes rendered me blind and I could see him no more. Though maybe I hadn't seen him in quite a long time.

I'd like to say my heart was broken, but it wasn't. I was feeling something much more devastating than that. I felt empty and cold, like that place inside me that held the core of everything I believed in was suddenly vacant.

Vacant.
That was the word. Like the room built for three, once filled to capacity with love, now only held a lonely woman clinging tightly to the hand of a small child, and there was way too much space on her other side. I wondered if that was how a war widow felt when she received the news that the love of her life had suddenly been erased from existence. I decided it wasn't. It wasn't, because those men had not chosen to be eradicated. Shaw had. He had and there was nothing I could do about it.

There was nothing left of what we once were to hold on to anymore.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I gathered myself to do what needed to be done. There was no time for a breakdown because I had a child I needed to take care of, plans to make for our future. So with a shaky hand, I fished my cellphone out of my purse and dialed the number that had been my lifeline for as many years as I'd been living. By the second ring, a warm, loving voice answered.

“Cassidy? Is everything okay?”

“No, Ma. Everything is not okay. I'm coming home.”

I didn't mean it. I swear, I didn't. Cassidy's insistence that something was wrong between us, that I felt any differently about her now than I did when I'd first realized I was in love with her damn near four years ago, had finally pushed me to my limit. So I'd told her what I'd thought she wanted to hear.

I still loved her. I still thought she hung the moon. Though I was concerned that the lie had fallen so easily from my lips.

Goddammit! Why did she have to push me so much? She knew I was in a hurry, so why did we
have
to have that conversation right then and there instead of waiting until I got home from work? I was stressed the fuck out, juggling clients while being a partner at SSE and doing my absolute best to take care of my family, to be different from my own parents. I didn't sleep well at nights, my brain constantly spinning out of control with everything I had to do, who I had to please, moves I needed to forecast…everything. And Cassidy was just piling the bullshit on top.

No, I didn't spend much time at home, but that was because I couldn't. I was only one man; there was only so much I could do, and I'd been stretched pretty damn thin as it was. You'd think the woman who was supposed to love me would try to understand that.

I thought Cassidy and I were supposed to be partners in this whole parenting thing. It had been working well, by my assessment. She was the nurturer. I was the provider. Abe had the best of both worlds, and that was a million miles away from Planet Don't Give a Shit, where my parents had apparently hailed from.

Abe had it made. So had Cassidy. She got to be at home with Abe, for Christ's sake! If either of us had a reason to feel resentment toward the other, it was me, not her. I'd give anything to be able to spend a day playing with him. But I had to provide for my little man, make sure he'd never want for anything, that he'd get the best education money could buy and every opportunity that may come his way until he could make his own name in life. I was making sacrifices so he wouldn't have to, so Cassidy wouldn't have to. And what thanks did I get for that? Reminders that my best just wasn't good enough, and probably never would be.

This
was the exact reason I never did the relationship thing in the past!

When the car in front of me moved ahead, I gave a roar of frustration and punched the gas pedal, only to have to stomp on the brake because morning traffic in San Diego was stop-and-go, at best. I might have stood a chance with it if I'd left on time, but Cassidy's need to talk had landed me smack dab in the middle of it. My day could only keep getting better from here. Yeah, right. How was I supposed to concentrate on anything else when all I could hear was the sheer desperation in my woman's voice, when all I could see in her eyes was some sort of plea for me to make things right? Jesus, I'd made her cry, broken her fucking heart.

And then I'd walked out on her. I was an ass of the highest degree.

I thought about turning around and going back to her…to apologize, to let her beat the shit out of me, to hold her tight and make sweet love to her the way we used to. Thought about it and then thought better of it. We both needed some time, a breather to let things cool down. Plus my business partner, Wade, was waiting for me at the office to discuss a pertinent matter, or so I assumed, considering the urgency surrounding the phone call I'd received from him earlier.

Great. Something else to pile on top of my plate.

By the time I made it to the office—late—I'd already convinced myself of half a dozen things that could be wrong. Things like Striker Sports Entertainment going bankrupt or that every client we represented was currently breaking contracts and jumping ship. Not that they'd have cause to; we treated all of our clients with the utmost respect and made sure we were available to them whenever and wherever they needed us.

I'd been overreacting, though, stressing myself out for no reason. I really needed to stop doing that before I developed an ulcer. Or worse, had a stroke.

“Sorry I'm late. Rush-hour traffic,” I told Wade as I put my briefcase on the floor and took the seat behind my desk.

He was sitting legs crossed in front of me with a piping hot cup of coffee in hand. Thank God, Ben had been seeing to his needs.

My partner grimaced with a shake of his head. “Goddamn traffic. At some point, California really should try to put a cap on the amount of people they allow to relocate here from other countries—hell, even other states. It's getting more and more crowded every day. They say an earthquake is going to make the state fall off into the sea, but I say the weight of all the goddamn people living here will be the cause.”

“I relocated from out of state,” I reminded him. “So did Cassidy.”

“Yeah, but at least you two are contributing something. Too many numbnuts out there dreaming of being
discovered
for the silver screen or
making it big
in the music industry,” he said with a shake of his head.

Wade was grouchy before, but he'd gotten surlier over the last couple of years. He reminded me more and more every day of Max from
Grumpy Old Men.
His hair was more gray than black now, balding just at the crown. His skin had started to show deeper wrinkles, and age spots had popped up all over his face and hands, the appearance of which had probably been accelerated courtesy of too much time spent out under the California sun.

I chuckled at his prediction, not entirely sure how I managed it when my mood was every bit as cantankerous as his, thanks to the morning I'd had thus far. “Maybe you need a break, Wade. Take a timeout and go enjoy the tranquillity of Lake Tahoe for a while.”

“Funny you should mention that,” he said, shifting in his seat. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Wade going on vacation was hardly a serious enough matter to warrant my rush into the office this morning. There had to be something more to it. Maybe he was going to force me to take a vacation? Or worse…a permanent vacation. Could he do that?

I started mentally poring through my contract while trying to think of any offenses I might have made and whether it was possible that there'd been a secret board meeting to discuss my removal.

“Matthews, are you okay?” Wade's brow was furrowed with concern. “Christ, man, you're sweating bullets over there. If you're sick and need to take some time off—”

“I'm fine,” I told him. “Just not entirely sure what all of this is about. Don't leave me hanging. What's going on?”

For the first time since I'd met Wade, he slouched in his chair, looking worse for the wear. “I'm done, son. Ready to hang it up, kick back, and enjoy the rest of my life.”

I was still confused. “What does that mean?”

“It means I've decided to retire. Done deal. I've been thinking about it for a long time now and don't need to think about it anymore,” he said with a note of finality, one meant to shut down any argument I might try to throw his way to dissuade him. “Obviously, I wanted to tell you before I announce it to the rest of the staff this afternoon.”

I was stunned silent. The retirement of SSE's co-founder, Monty Prather, was what had spurred the competition between Cassidy and me, which had landed me the partnership in the first place. But Wade? Striker was his baby. He'd been the one to bring Monty onboard before the doors had ever opened for business. I'd felt sure he'd never let it go, that he'd hold on to it with a death grip until death finally gripped him.

And then an even heavier weight circled my neck like a horseshoe around a stake to bear down on my shoulders. “Of course. Thank you for the heads-up. But I have to ask what this will mean for Striker. For me?”

“Striker is still going to be here. Don't you worry about that,” he assured me. “I'm not selling, and neither is Monty. But I'm turning over the reins of the day-to-day business to you. Monty and I have discussed it, and we feel given the added stress of keeping us out of the poor house, a larger percentage of the shares would be in order.”

“That's, um…that's a relief.” At least I didn't have to worry about being unemployed. “But it's also a whole lot of responsibility to take on by myself.”

“Oh, sorry.” Wade laughed. “Forgot the last part. I'm going to see to it that you're not doing it all on your own. I know you like to take the hands-on approach, keeping your skills sharp with your own clients, and I respect that. Always have. Gotta lead by example, after all.”

“I'm glad you can appreciate that, Wade. So I can expect a replacement for you, then?”

“Well, no one can replace me.” He laughed, metaphorically patting himself on the back. “But I'm not going to burden you with trying to find someone who can come close. I know you have your plate full enough. So before I make my grand exit—and I
am
hoping for an elaborate retirement party,” he not so subtly hinted, “I'll make sure the most qualified candidate I can find is in place and ready to stand by your side at the helm.”

I wasn't really sure how I felt about that. Wade was more than capable of choosing his replacement, but I would've liked to have a say in the final decision. Still, he was right. I did have a full plate. Dealing with headhunters and conducting interviews would only tie up even more of my time. Time I needed to devote to Marcel and, more important, to my family. So I supposed I should've been grateful for the assistance. Besides, contrary to what Cassidy had always believed about me—and had no doubt relayed to her mentor, Wade—I
could
play well with others. I'd adjust. Period.

“One more thing,” I said. “Will this person you find also be a partner? If so, how will the share split go then?”

When I had become a partner, I wasn't an equal partner. Wade held controlling interest with 51 percent, Monty (a silent partner) still held 24 percent, and I had the remaining 25 percent. If Wade and Monty planned to sell off their shares, I could be in a whole lot of trouble. So could SSE, its employees, and its clients.

He chuckled. “That's my boy. I would have been disappointed if you hadn't asked.” He re-crossed his legs. “The replacement will be auditioning, so to speak, for a role as partner. We want to make sure the person we find will be a viable contribution to the future of SSE. Once you, Monty, and I are convinced the new person has proven himself, we'll make it official. The share split will be Monty and me at ten percent each, the new partner at thirty, and you with fifty. As Monty and I, inevitably, die off, our shares will go to the new partner to balance things out. Until then, you'll be making more than the rest of us.” He laughed. “You've more than earned it, and Monty and I will feel safe knowing SSE is in your hands.”

“Wow. That's quite an honor. I don't know what to say,” I admitted.

“Just say yes, my boy.”

It was a lot to take in, an even bigger responsibility. Though wasn't this exactly what I'd worked so hard for? Wasn't this the dream I'd had as a practically orphaned child with no prospect of a promising future? I'd have a real legacy, half of a more than prosperous company. Abe could follow in his father's footsteps and be proud to stand where I once stood. Generations after him could do the same. I could start a
true
legacy. Right here. Right now. I could really be worthy of a woman like Cassidy.

Smacking my hand on the desk, much like a judge's gavel at a final verdict, I answered, “Yes!” and then I sat back with a sigh of relief. A very major decision had just been made, but it was one that I felt good about.

“Excellent!” Wade said. “Monty will be so proud of his protégé's enthusiasm. You've never disappointed, Matthews. I wouldn't be able to make this leap if I didn't have the utmost confidence in you.”

“Thank you for saying so, Wade. I sure am sorry to see you go, and admittedly, maybe even a little jealous of all the free time you're about to get, but I can't think of many other people who deserve it more.” It was true. Wade had built SSE from the ground up, now boasting a clientele roster of the most well-known athletes in every sport imaginable. “Thank you for taking care of finding our next partner. Though I know he'll never be a match to you, I'll try not to hold it against him.”

“Good man,” he said, standing. “I'm sure I never did the same with you.” He winked playfully before coming over to shake my hand. As he made his exit to get on with his day and leave me to mine, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Oh, and
he
could very well turn out to be a
she
. You might want to be prepared for that, just in case.”

I had absolutely no problem with that. I was just glad I didn't have to make the decision one way or the other.

The rest of my day had been hectic, as usual. Though I was still bothered by the exchange I'd had with Cassidy that morning, I hadn't had the time to dwell on it. Between going over my strategy concerning Marcel, handling a contract crisis for one of my top clients, reviewing contracts Ben had drawn up for a couple others, I'd had enough to stay distracted—to say the very least.

And then came the staff meeting.

Wade had made the announcement about his retirement, inviting anyone who felt qualified to submit his or her résumé for consideration. Though everyone at SSE was sad for Wade to go, the excited chatter over the prospect of having a shot at the partnership had become like white noise in the background. There was no guarantee the next partner would be someone internal, but Wade liked to keep things close to home, so it was possible. If one of our agents got it, I was going to make sure my assistant, Ben, got a promotion to fill the vacancy. I'd miss him, but I couldn't hold him back for selfish reasons.

Ally, Cassidy's old assistant, seemed less than interested in the partnership. Of course, she'd only been an agent for around three and a half years, taking over Cassidy's clients when she'd gone on a maternity leave that had turned into her resignation. I was proud of the work Ally had done. She was like a carbon copy of Cassidy in the way she approached and landed a client. The roster she'd inherited from her former boss had been free to choose another agent, but they'd all declined after private meetings with Cassidy to discuss Ally's capabilities.