Living With Regret (29 page)

Jake is sleeping off a crazy night in my guest room. A room I only set up in hopes that my Ma would come and visit, but she hasn’t. My concern for my mother is worsening each day. I understood her reasoning for skipping Thanksgiving with me, but not Christmas and New Year’s. She told me she’s spent the last thirty years of her life being a wife and mother and she needs to figure out who she is again. Now I’m giving her the only thing she’s asked for: time.

As I get out of the shower, I can hear my phone ringing, but I didn’t grab it in time. The damn thing started ringing again seconds later with an unknown caller.

I ignore it and see that I have several missed calls from unknown numbers when the damn thing rings again. I have no idea what’s going on, which has me answering the fucking thing. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mr. Chase Adams from the Arizona Cardinals?”

“Uh . . .” I mumbled because I already know I shouldn’t say a word to whoever this caller is.

“This is Dennis Murphy from Beyond The Ball. I was hoping to get your statement regarding your drug addiction and your stints in rehab.”

My mouth opens but nothing comes out as I quickly end the call. However, my phone immediately starts ringing. Holy fuck. How in the world did anyone find out that I went to rehab?

I can feel my chest tightening because there are only three people in my life that know about my drug use and if any of them had a part in the media finding out about this I’ll lose my fucking head.

How in the hell did that jackass even get my goddamn number in the first place, or any of these fuckers who keep calling? Unless, of course, Carrie sold my number, which wouldn’t surprise me.

My phone hasn’t stopped ringing since I hung up on the bastard. When it rings again, I pick it up and slam it against the wall, shattering the screen. Thankfully, the damn thing stops ringing. My chest is heaving with rage as I take deep breaths, attempting to calm myself.

This is just fucking spectacular. The day I walked out of rehab my dad made it clear that we were never to talk about my problem again. I went years pretending like I wasn’t an addict. I avoided going anywhere I thought someone could be using because in the back of my mind, I wasn’t sure I fully trusted myself.

Once I graduated and was drafted by the NFL, I felt like I was truly past my problem or, at least, my daily struggle to stay clean. Drug use of any kind is forbidden at the college and professional level, but once I was away from the college lifestyle—the constant parties—I found I could better control my environment, mainly because I was surrounded by people who wouldn’t dare touch the stuff.

I find it convenient that whoever leaked this story waited until after I announced my retirement, which has me wondering if it is, in fact, my dad. But after how strict he was about never speaking about it again, I find it hard that he would want to hurt me this way.

“What the fuck did you throw against the wall?” I look over my shoulder at Jake, whose hair is going every which direction while he’s wearing only a pair of boxer briefs.

“Don’t worry about it,” I growl out.

Jake starts rubbing his eyes. “Fuck, dude. I’m too hungover to deal with a pissy attitude this damn early.”

I’ve thought long and hard about what Jordan said to me in regards to what happen with Drake. I want to do something. I don’t want his death to be in vain. However, I wasn’t exactly ready for the world to know about my problem, definitely not when my new job hasn’t officially started.

“Sorry. Some fucker from a gossip site somehow got my number and asked me shit I didn’t want to talk about, so I threw my phone across the room,” I say with a shrug.

“Fucking Carrie. The dumb bitch is trying to make sure she makes your life hell. Probably hoping you’ll at least pay her to shut up and go away.”

I’m compelled to laugh off his statement and go lock myself in my room, but it’s only a matter of time before Jake hears the real story floating around. As a friend, he deserves to hear the truth from me.

“No, it’s not Carrie this time.”

Jake drops to my couch, waiting for me to say something. “After I broke up with Jordan and left for school, I didn’t handle my freshman year very well. I got hooked on some serious fucking drugs. Ruined a friend’s life and almost my own. I ended up in rehab, got out, and I’ve never touched a drug since. I’m not sure how but someone leaked that story to the press.”

My unexpected announcement catches him off guard. I can tell by the shocked expression he’s still wearing. “Wow, dude. I had no idea. Does Jordan know about all of this?”

This is exactly why I like Jake. I tell him something awful about me and instead of making a huge deal he’s worried about how this information could affect me personally.

“Yes, thank God. I told her when I first got to town. I know I probably sound like a pussy when I say this, but I knew from the second I laid my eyes on Jordan she was going to change my life. She inspired me to want a future that had nothing to do with football or college, and letting her go was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I have to take ownership for my actions but I go back to that moment and I wonder if I had only followed my heart, where would I be today?”

“You can agonize the rest of your life over the ifs or you can start living the life you have. I would have a hard fucking time if I couldn’t play ball anymore, but I also don’t have a woman like Jordan waiting at home for me every night. Take the life that’s in front of you and start living it. Own up to the shit in your past and then move forward.”

When I look up at him, he has a know-it-all smile plastered on his face.

“Okay, Dr. Phil,” I reply.

“Whatever, asshole. I’m going back to sleep.” Talking to Jake settles my nerves. I wish I had the chance to tell my story—definitely would’ve liked to do it on my terms—but ready or not, now is the opportunity to truly put everything behind me.

“You need to make a statement that you attended last month’s gala with Mr. Adams as a friend. He’s your neighbor but you two are nothing more than friends.”

I start shaking my head in disgust. “No, I won’t,” I grumble out. “I love Chase and this is an unfortunate incident that will blow over,” I firmly state.

I can hear the sighs throughout the table. “Ms. Taylor, you’re the CEO of Natural Cosmetics. Our profits have been up quite a bit in the last year and a half, and we can’t afford to take a hit, even a small one because you’re only looking out for your own personal interest.”

Today when I woke up in the same bed as Chase, life was great. I went to work and started my day out like any other, than Silvia came in. Apparently, my business phone was ringing off the hook from reporters hoping to get my comment about the fact that I’m dating a drug addict.

I had a hard time processing what was happening. Chase’s addiction is a secret, or at least I thought so. I know Chase would have told me if he had plans to make such an announcement, which leaves me to believe the story was leaked, but the who and why part is still a mystery—at least to me. I would love to ask Chase what’s going on, but he’s not answering his phone.

“Chase Adams’s story is not mine to tell, but I will say this much. What the media is running with is something that happened almost nine years ago. I’m not the CEO of a pharmaceutical company, and Mr. Adams has held a position for years in the NFL where players are regularly drug tested. He was never found with a trace of anything illegal in his system.”

I stop and look around the boardroom. About half of the members are missing, seeing as this was a last minute meeting to discuss my personal life.

“Jordan, hun, personally, I understand where you’re coming from and I agree with you. But as the CEO, you’re the face of this company. When a woman goes to buy our products, we don’t want her wondering if the money she’s spending is going to profit a drug deal. Announce that the two of you aren’t actually a couple and later if this blows over and he’s able to prove your claims of innocence, then go back to however you’re living your life,” one of the nicer board members says.

My stomach sinks at the idea of denying Chase for even a second. He’s without a doubt the love of my life. I like my job, before Chase I actually loved it, but if I’m forced to choose, it won’t be Natural Cosmetics.

“If you are asking me to make a decision right now, then it won’t be the one you’re looking for. The media hasn’t even heard what Chase has to say and everyone in this room has already condemned him. My grandfather left me in charge of this company before he passed away, but it doesn’t have to stay that way.”

Another board member named John, who has remained silent, speaks up. “Jordan’s right. We need to sit back and see which direction this blows with the media before we force her to make a decision that could impact this company in ways that are just as unhealthy. Like Francis said earlier, the last year and a half has been very good for the company, and Jordan played a huge part in making that happen.”

My heart starts to settle for the first time since I walked into this room. I mouth a small thank you to John for being the only voice of reason.

“One week, Jordan. Get this messed cleared up and do it in the best way possible for Natural.” Francis is older than dirt and worked with my grandfather for thirty plus years. He’s also of the mindset that any negative news will cause the company to go under. If I had to wager a guess, it would be that ninety percent of the people who purchase our products never pay any attention to what’s going on in the CEO’s life.

I’m more worried about how this will affect Chase and his new job.

I stand up after everyone else starts to clear out of the room and switch my phone that I’ve had in my hand the whole time, off of silent. I was hoping that Chase would finally call me, but no such luck. As I’m walking back into my office, my phone starts ringing.

“Hello,” I rush out.

“Jordan, sweetheart, are you doing okay?” I breathe out a sigh. It’s my dad. “I saw online that people are claiming that Chase is a drug addict.”

I close my eyes. This is the last thing I need. At Thanksgiving, my parents were cordial to Chase because they aren’t the type of people to act rude to someone that’s treating them with respect, unlike Steve Adams. However, they weren’t pleased that he was back in my life. Like Lacey, they personally had to deal with the aftermath of our breakup and they immediately worried about Chase’s intentions towards me.

Christmas was a different story. My parents saw how happy Chase was making me and because they are truly amazing and forgiving people, they let go of any anger they once had. My mother actually told me,
‘If you are able to forgive him, then so am I
.’ When Carrie’s announcement came a few days ago, my mom called and I could hear the concern in her voice. Once I explained everything, her concern switched from me to how Chase was handling the situation.

“Dad, everything is fine. After Chase left for college, he struggled for a while with the pressure he felt he was under, but he got help and hasn’t touched a drug since.”

“Well, I didn’t figure he would have been in the NFL for that many years without failing a drug test if he had a real addiction, but Jordan—” he clears his throat “—someone who even dapples in drugs is asking for problems.”

I take in a deep breath, one I’m positive my dad heard. “He doesn’t. He hasn’t touched a drug in almost nine years. The media is just looking for crap to talk about and a former football player who is also a recovering addict is sparking interest during playoffs.”

“I’m relieved to hear this, but if it’s all the same, I think I might come up and stay with you tonight. Your mom is visiting Aunt Becky and she’s the reason we don’t go into the city more often as it is.”

I had pictured my night a little different: going home and talking with Chase, finding out when he’s going to tell the media what really happened, then I planned to take his mind off everything that’s going on in a different way; a way that isn’t going to happened with my dad in the apartment.

“Yeah, Dad, that sounds great. I’m actually leaving Natural now so I can head home and check on Chase.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I haven’t even packed a bag yet and with the drive, it will be a close to three hours before I get there.”

I smile knowing my father won’t rest until he’s assured that I’m really okay. “I’ll see you soon, Dad.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

Before my meeting, I had Silvia cancel the rest of my day so I could head home early. This is the first time that my anxiety with Chase isn’t over us. I’m worried about how he’s handling the news, and since I haven’t been able to talk to him, my worry is slowly turning into panic.