Tailored for Trouble: A Romantic Comedy (Happy Pants) (26 page)

“We’ll still be able to function,” he said, “but it will be more expensive—lower crop yields.”

He looked at her with his big blue eyes. “Say something.”

She couldn’t. Her mind was too busy filling in all the blanks. His loathing for people who took advantage of others. His fear of being unable to reach people in an emergency or not knowing where they were. His obsession with this project that drove him to exhaustion. It was all such a huge shock, yet the signs had been there all along.

“This is why you took the money from your stupid fucking friends, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes. And for the record, those idiots bet on things all the time—football, golf games, if Chip can keep a girlfriend for more than a week—to them, it means nothing.”

“But you take part?”

“Sometimes. More when I was younger.” He shrugged. “But with you, they just assumed I was in.” He glanced at her. “And I never corrected their assumption, and I never tried to stop them. It was wrong, which is why I’ve promised to rectify the situation.” He then pointed west. “If it makes you feel any better, their stupidity purchased everything from there to that ridge—they finally did something good for once.”

“That’s a lot of stupidity,” she said and then turned to him. “But why keep this all a secret? Why not tell anyone what you’re doing?”

He tilted his head. “Don’t you think they’d ask why? Don’t you think people would connect the dots if I went around telling them I grew up here or about my project? The land we purchased and sold is public record. Anyone who looks hard enough will realize what we did to these people.”

She bobbed her head. It was one more piece of the puzzle—the reason he never mentioned where he was really from. “I get what you’re saying, but your father was in charge then. You were only trying to be a good son.”

“No one will care. It’s my last name on the company’s letterhead. I’m in charge now. But the bad PR could hurt Wade Enterprise’s value, and I want top dollar when I sell the company to fund the factory and infrastructure.”

He had it all figured out.

“How long have you been planning this?” she asked.

“Six years. It took me a while to figure things out after Wayan died.”

“I think, Bennett,” she whispered, “that it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done in the name of saying sorry.”

He shrugged again, the sadness and regret saturating his eyes. “I can say I’m sorry until my last breath but there is no excuse for being the person that I was. None at all. I deserve a shit life for letting my little boy and his mother die like that.”

Tears flowed freely from Taylor’s eyes, and though Bennett’s voice was cold, she knew it wasn’t because he didn’t care—it was because he’d probably mourned enough for a lifetime. There wasn’t anything left. At least, that was her guess.

“You think you don’t deserve anyone’s affection or love.” She looked at him, realizing why he felt uncomfortable being too intimate. “But you’re wrong, Bennett. You just need to forgive yourself.”

“I can’t ever see that happening.”

She placed herself in front of him and smiled, putting her hand on his cheek. She felt so humbled that he’d trusted her with all of this. Especially after what happened the last time he’d told a woman. Her heart swelled with so many mixed emotions now, but wanting to leave him wasn’t one of them. “You just say ‘I’m sorry.’ You tell your son you loved him, and in a perfect world, you would’ve done more, but you were imperfect and fucked up and human. And then you let go, Bennett. But if you continue punishing yourself, a man as strong and smart and determined and caring as you, what good will that do? You’ll die like your father of a heart attack or from exhaustion, and then what? Who’s going to help these people? But if you could just let go of the past, Bennett, if you could just find a way to forgive yourself, you could use your energy to do so much more.”

The line of his strong, unshaven jaw pulsed with tension, and the hard look in his pale blue eyes could easily be mistaken for anger. But that was Bennett just trying to sort something out, something painful he wasn’t comfortable with. She knew that now. It was the same look he’d given her the first time they’d met and the second and the third and every single time he’d been trying in his way to…

Get me here
. The epiphany struck her down. He’d wanted to bring her here to Bali all along. She blinked at him.
Has he been into me this entire time?
Or, at least, since she’d showed up at his office and agreed to work with him.

She suddenly felt confounded and so very special. But she also wondered—what did he hope to get from her? It felt bigger than him simply wanting her to know his secret.

Maybe he’s trying to move on, but doesn’t know how?
She honestly wasn’t sure.

“You told me,” she said, “that you were in your car, already driving off the property when you got the alert on your phone. How much time did that give you before the wave hit?”

He frowned. “The earthquake was close. It gave me a minute or two. Not much time.”

“So if you’d gone back for them, could you have saved them?” she asked.

He looked down at his muddy boots. “No. Not likely.”

“Would two minutes warning have been enough for them to run to safety?”

“No. But you’re missing the point. Back then, the alert was new; you didn’t know how much time you had—it could’ve been ten hours—yet, I didn’t try.”

She understood the guilt, she really did. But had he believed he had hours and gone back for them, he wouldn’t be standing with her right now. And then where would the Bali project be?

She looked up at him and brushed the messy damp hair from his forehead. “I believe that everything happens for a reason, Bennett. The only shame is not allowing that reason to exist. But you’ve let it flourish. You’ve done the right things, and made something good come from your mistakes because you are a good man.” She didn’t know if that’s what he needed to hear, but the words were from the heart.

He looked down at her, and his angry, harsh expression was the last thing she expected to see. “Then you’re delusional, Ms. Reed. And you understand nothing.”

She dropped her hand and stepped back, mentally catching herself from falling. He didn’t mean it. She knew he didn’t mean it.
He’s pushing me away
. It was the way he dealt with things. “When he pushes you away—and believe me, he will—like a drowning man fighting for air—you push back. You hang on. He’ll come around.”

That’s what his mother had said.

But arguing with him wasn’t the right tactic either. She could feel it in her gut.

“Yes. You might be right,” she said calmly with the utmost sincerity. “I wasn’t there, and I didn’t lose a child and I’ll never really understand. But I’m here for you anyway. If it’s what you want.”

“What I want is for you not to try to make me feel better or say ridiculous things like I’m a ‘good’ man. Because I’m not.”

Oh. Now she got it.

He wanted to hear he was right. He wanted someone to say he was a horrible human being and deserved to suffer. He wanted someone to validate his pain and give him an excuse to continue the self-flagellation. And perhaps be his sidekick and keep him company while he killed himself paying his penance.

Well, she wouldn’t do it. Because it was bullshit. But if she argued with him, told him he was good, he’d only view it as her lack of true understanding. Because in his mind, the only logical response was to hate himself. Of course, he was wrong, and she would never agree with him, so she’d give him the next best thing: She would accept him. Just as he was. Maybe with time he’d learn to accept things, too, and see himself in a new light, through her eyes. Just as he’d done for her.

“Sorry. But you just showed me your colors, you trusted me with your secret, and I don’t feel at all different about you, Mr. Wade.”

“Only you, Ms. Reed. Only you.” He shook his head disapprovingly at his feet.

“I think you should take me back to the hotel now,” she said, wanting to give him time to let the volatile emotions settle. This had clearly been a difficult leap for him to take. But she wasn’t a mound of dirt, and he wasn’t going to bulldoze her to serve his messed-up needs.

Because he deserved better than that.

He looked at her, still stewing. “Yes, that’s probably best.”

She took a breath and walked back toward the muddy Land Rover. Despite her conviction, she was holding on by a thread.
Don’t get sucked in to his emotional whirlpool, Tay. Stay strong for him, let him see that nothing changed.

But everything
had
changed. She realized now that she loved him more than she’d ever thought possible. There was no going back for her, no other man she’d ever want more.

Bennett was icy the entire drive back to the resort. She resisted the urge to push him to talk about his feelings (such a chick move) and simply allowed him space. She just had to have faith that he’d come around.

When he pulled up to the front of the hotel, she turned and gazed into his stormy blue eyes, wanting to say so many things, but knowing this moment wasn’t about her or what she wanted. It was about him trying to dig himself out of the deep dark hole he’d been living in for the last decade. If she loved him, really loved him, she’d reach out her hand and wait patiently for him to take it. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Physically, she wasn’t feeling at all patient. She wanted him so badly she ached. Ached with the need to feel his body against her and inside her. Ached with the need to feel his strong arms around her and his powerful hands gripping her hips. She didn’t mind if he was emotionally distant or not ready to “face” her. She’d take anything she could get, any way she could get it. Even if it meant sitting in the car with him in silence.

“Can I come stay with you at your place tonight? I’d love to see it.” It was the only thing she could think of to say that signaled she wasn’t running for the hills and still wanted to be a part of his life.

He let out a deep, anger-laced sigh, and dropped his head against his arms as they rested on the steering wheel. “I don’t think that would be a smart idea.”

She nodded calmly, ignoring the sting of his rejection. “I understand.” She reached for the door handle and got out. “Bennett, thank you for today. Thank you for letting me in and trusting me. I know it’s not something you take lightly.”

He looked away. “I’ll call you.”

She bobbed her head and closed the door. He sped away, and the moment he was gone, the emotions gushed out of her. Tears flowed from her eyes in a steady stream as she thought about that horrific story. Bennett had stood high on a hilltop and watched the ocean carry away his child and his child’s mother. She couldn’t imagine a more horrifying experience. But damn, that Bennett had a will of iron. He may not have forgiven himself, but he turned his pain into an undertaking she could have never imagined—trying to change the lives of an entire community. But more than that, he’d come back to face the people he’d hurt. And not just to say, “I’m sorry,” but to make things right.

That took a man of unspeakable strength and character. That took some damned backbone.

A few hours later, there was a break in the rain and the sun came out. Taylor didn’t want to sit around, waiting for Bennett to call—it could be a long, long wait—so she took a walk along the white sandy shore and finally got to see the hypnotic greens and blues of the Indian Ocean. It was just as spectacular as she imagined.

When the rain returned, she retreated back to the private resort beach house and decided to check emails and send everyone a quick note, letting them know she was still in Bali. That was when she noticed the Google Alert she’d set up to stalk Bennett. Apparently, they hadn’t been coming through on her phone until now.

“What the fuck?” Sitting on the porch, she leaned in closer, unable to believe the words on the screen. It was a press release from Lady Mary Fragrances.

Merger offer rejected by Lady Mary Fragrances
? Taylor’s eyes quickly skimmed the article. Words like “clash of cultures” and “different values” were sprinkled throughout as speculation for the failed deal, but the final line, a quote from Lady Mary nearly stopped Taylor’s heart. “
I would never take the company in a direction that compromises Lady Mary’s integrity or the foundation of equality I’ve built
.”

Oh shit. Oh shit.
Mary had to be referring to something Bennett had done or said.
He used my fucking training.
Or some part of it. But everything seemed to have been going well at the dinner.
Yeah, but you never really told Bennett flat out that your training was a bunch of B.S.

Fuck. It must’ve happened after I left. This is all my fault.

“No. No. Goddammit no!” She ran inside and went for the phone, about to dial Bennett and beg for mercy and explain that she would fix this and that she hadn’t meant to hurt him or ruin him or…

Shit.
Everything he’d said to her in the morning about his fiancée stabbing him in the back came rushing into her head.
He’ll never forgive me.
And as her finger was about to hit the last number to complete the call, she realized that she’d never be able face him again. What she’d done was simply unforgivable.

I burned his bridge to redemption
. She’d burned it to the ground and ruined the man she loved.

No. You haven’t. You’ve lost the man you love, but you can still fix this.

She hung up and dialed the concierge. “Can you help me? I need to get a taxi to the airport and the first flight to Paris.”

Eighteen hours later

Once again, Taylor had had a lot of time to kill on the plane. She’d thought about every word she would say to Mary Rutherford. She thought about how she would explain to Bennett why she’d left without a word. He would think the worst. And when he learned the truth, he’d hate her guts.

Fine. But you can’t not try to fix this mess.
And she couldn’t be the reason Bennett’s project went down the tubes. Obviously, Mary’s decision not to do the merger was because Bennett had used the fake coaching.
Oh, God. He must’ve kept telling her how nice she looked. Page eight, section three.

Still wearing nothing but a red bikini and her beach tank dress, she entered the pink marble lobby of the
Dame Marie
. It was just after seven in the evening so she knew most everyone had gone home, but she prayed she could convince someone there to get a message to Mary. Chip was not answering her calls. So if needed, she planned to camp out all night and mow Mary down first thing in the morning.

“No. Not you again,” she said to the smarmy looking security guard at the reception desk, who gave her a vinegary look.

“Okay, I know you think I’m some crazy woman, but I know Mary Rutherford. I have to talk to her. Is she here?”

He puckered his little lips and made a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe
oui
. Maybe no.”

Gah!
She was going to pull that stringy hair right from his little head! “Okay. Is her assistant still here? Can you get a message to her?” The French were notorious for keeping late hours.

“Oh…So sorry, I cannot,” he said in a snide, sassy little man voice.

“I am
just
asking you to get a message to her or her assistant. Tell her Taylor Reed needs to see Mary. Please? I’m begging you.”

He barked at her in French, something obviously very rude, probably like…“Get your pale hippy ass out of my lobby.”

Okay. I totally don’t have time for this.

She leaned over the desk, a look of death and destruction radiating from her eyes like Mothra on a bad day. Or was it Godzilla who’d had laser beam eyes?
Oh, who cares? Give him hell, Tay!
Because she would not let Bennett’s project go down without a fight.

“You listen to me, you piece of judgmental frog crap. I will find out where you live, and when you least expect it, I will be waiting in your closet. I will put a bag over your head, chloroform you, shove your bony ass body into a duffle bag, and then drop you over a bridge where you will scream in horror as you drown in your own sick. So do
not
fuck with me!” She pointed her finger in his face as his jaw flapped. “Pick. Up. The fucking phone. And call Mary’s assistant.”

He reached a shaking hand out and dialed.

“Ms. Reed?” said a woman’s voice from behind.

She swiveled in her sandals and found herself facing Mary, who was dressed to the nines in a pink Chanel suit. Chip was standing at her side, smirking with evil joy.

“Mrs. Rutherford, thank God you’re here!” Taylor slapped her hand over her heart. “I need to talk to you.”

“I just stopped by to pick up a few files from my office.” Mary’s critical eyes swept over Taylor’s unladylike outfit—a lightly translucent sundress spattered with mud and a red bikini underneath—as if questioning her sanity.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I was in Bali on the beach when I read the press release. I hopped on the first plane here.”

“She’s crazy.” Chip, who wore some weird lime green and orange plaid outfit, tugged on his mother’s elbow. “We should go upstairs and let Jean Claude handle her.”

Ah.
So Jean Claude was the smarmy guard, who, at that moment was shaking his buggy-eyed head no. He didn’t want to deal with her.

“You be quiet, Chip Rutherford,” Taylor said, “or I’ll tell your mother how you helped ruin my spotless reputation and career because you and your friends took turns trying to get me into bed. All just a friendly bet with a million-dollar ante of course.”

Chip’s beady eyes bulged from his head.

Taylor continued, “Or I’ll tell her that you blackmailed me into being your dinner date that night just to make Bennett jealous.”

Mary turned to Chip, looking outraged. “Well, Chip, I can’t say it’s the worst thing you’ve ever done, but I did think I taught you better.”

“But Mom,” he whined weakly.

“You and I will speak later,” Mary snapped and then looked back at Taylor as Chip slunk away toward the elevators. “Ms. Reed, I do apologize for my son’s behavior,” she said calmly. “Sometimes he has the maturity and wisdom of a turnip. But what is it you wish to discuss with me?”

“The merger with Bennett—I mean, Mr. Wade.”

“Ah, I see. And you flew all the way here to try and persuade me to change my mind?” Taylor could see the indignation building behind Mary’s calm façade. She didn’t like anyone questioning her.

“Yes,” she replied, ready to tread carefully. “But only because I don’t think you understand—”

“Dear girl,” Mary interrupted curtly, “I began running this company when you were in diapers. So don’t patronize me. My decision is final. I’m not selling to anyone, and least of all to a shark like Bennett who will likely just chop the company into bits and sell it off. Now, I’m very sorry you cut your beach vacation short, but I must go now.” She turned and began walking toward the elevators.

“Wait! Please. That’s
not
why he wants the company. In fact, buying your company will cost him everything he has.”

Mary turned and looked at her. “Why would that fool do such a thing?”

“He’s trying to help a lot of people who were left with nothing. And I know you understand what that’s like. Please, just give me five minutes.” Taylor held up her hand. “Five. And then I promise I’ll never bother you again.”

Mary grumbled something under her breath as the elevator doors slid open. “Fine. Five minutes, Ms. Reed.”

Once up on the top floor, in the glamorous conference room adjacent to Mary’s office overlooking Paris, it took much longer than five minutes to tell the story about Bennett and why he wanted to give up so much for his project. But Mary listened with a dry expression to the entire sordid, heartbreaking story.

When Taylor was done, she folded her hands neatly in her lap and waited nervously for Mary to say something.

The silence likely lasted only seconds, ten at most, but it felt like an eternity.

Mary leaned back in the armchair at the head of the long glass conference table and gazed out the window. Finally, coming to some conclusion, she turned her head of white hair back to Taylor. “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Taylor.”

Taylor’s insides did little flips. “So you’ll reconsider?”

“Yes, I will.”

Taylor jumped out of her chair and hugged Mary. “Thank you. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means.”

Mary peeled Taylor off. The hug might’ve been a tad overstepping, but she just couldn’t contain her happiness. “Sorry. I just can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

Mary smiled stiffly. “Well, I haven’t decided anything, so don’t count your chickens yet.”

“It’s all I could ever ask for.”

“Well, Taylor, I’m late for my dinner meeting so—”

“Yes. Of course.” Taylor moved away from the table. “I’ve taken up too much of your time.”

Mary rose. “I’ll let you know of my decision tomorrow.”

Taylor couldn’t help herself and hugged Mary again.

Mary patted her arm awkwardly. “Okay, thank you.”

Taylor wanted to bow or curtsy or do something to express how grateful she felt as she walked away,
but that would be weird, right?

“Oh, and Taylor? I have a question: May I ask why you came all this way and not Mr. Wade?”

With all the excitement, she had sort of left that part out. Perhaps, subconsciously she’d hoped never to have to tell anyone.

“Remember how I told you about Chip’s bet?”

Mary nodded. “Money put to good use, I say, though it doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“Before I knew the truth about Bennett’s project, I wasn’t so happy about the bet. I’m sure you can understand why. And then there was the fact that Bennett hired me because he hoped that I’d be able to help him get through to you—like I’m some magic woman-CEO whisperer.”

“You did do a fairly decent job getting through to me.”

“Thanks. But uh…I created a training course just to sabotage him. I added things I thought you would hate, like telling him to show he was in charge and to pay you lots of personal compliments.”

To her surprise, Mary laughed. “I guess that explains why Mr. Wade kept talking about my outfit and hair. I thought the man was hitting on me.”

Oh no
. Taylor covered her face and groaned. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Rutherford. So, so sorry.”

“Well, dear, it wasn’t the reason I didn’t want to sell to him.”

It wasn’t? “But I read that quote in the press release.”

Mary waved her hand at Taylor. “Oh you can’t believe a word those vultures say. That quote was pulled from something unrelated I said last year.”

“So-so-so why then?” Taylor asked.

Mary shrugged. “I simply love my company. I’m not ready to retire. But hearing Bennett’s story—I can’t imagine losing my son like that, as foolish and shallow as he is sometimes.”