The Broken Parts Of Us (30 page)

BOOK: The Broken Parts Of Us
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“So Los Angeles?” Mr. Davenport questioned as he placed a tall glass in front of me, the distinct smell of tequila hitting me.

Brilliant. Here it comes.

Mr. Davenport was the kind of man all women fantasized about and who men were threatened by. He stood more than six feet tall, he was fit from his weekly gym sessions, and he oozed intimidation. His blue-green eyes were dark and piercing, but it was his voice, a strong deep growl with a thick Australian accent, that threatened his business competitors and would cause women to throw themselves at him. He had been a constant fixture in my life since I was born; to me, he was my family before my boss. No matter how frightening and intimidating he was, I knew I owed him more than anyone would ever realize, and today he was allowing me to run yet again. This was the one thing I seemed to always get right.

“Yes, Los Angeles,” I answered softly, twisting my hair around my finger as I always did when I was panicking.

 “You ready for this, Savannah?” His voice deepened but his eyes softened when he saw my face drop at his words.

I looked at him with wide eyes and I knew he wasn’t talking about starting at the L.A. office of Beautify Magazine. He was talking about the new-and-improved Savannah he so desperately wanted to see in Los Angeles—the one who forgot about the guys, the one who would respect herself, and the one who would no longer blame herself for the events of her past.

“I’m scared. What if I fail at this? What if the office is so different from Sydney? What if they can’t understand my accent? What if I say
rubber
instead of
eraser
? What if I say I am wearing my
thongs
instead of my
flip-flops
?”

“Just breathe, Savannah,” Mr. Davenport said softly, and I couldn’t help but smile at his words and the way they reminded me of my Dad. They were the words that made me feel safe. “This is going to be the best thing you will experience. You are amazing at your job. They will love your Aussie quirkiness, and if they don’t, they will have to deal with me. You and I both know you will charm every one of them.”

“Charm the pants off them?” I taunted, and Mr. Davenport’s face immediately darkened. He clearly didn’t get the joke.

“This is a new start for you, Savannah. I want you to leave everything in Sydney. No one knows you or your past, and you don’t have to tell anyone anything,” he said, ignoring my bad attempt at a joke.

“What do you mean?” I questioned, although I knew exactly where he was going with this. He had been hinting at this conversation for weeks.

He lifted his eyes to meet mine and I could see he wasn’t amused. He wasn’t in boss mode now; he was in protective Mr. Davenport mode.

For the past five years, Mr. Davenport had the unfortunate front row seat of watching me become the Savannah I was today. He had watched me become a harsh bitch. He had watched me shut out the world and do things I wasn’t proud of. My survival mode was distraction and that was the only way I knew, but it was my choices for distraction he wasn’t keen on.

The nightmares, the memories, and the loneliness of my past consumed my every thought, and I found an unconventional means of survival in the form of men, partying, and running before things got serious. The heartbreakingly timeless grief I suffered upon losing my parents when I was ten, being cheated on by my high school sweetheart, and then being blamed for his suicide when I was eighteen were what led me to this day. From that day I had promised myself I would never allow another man to own or conquer my heart, and I would never love again. In the darkest depths of my mind, I was scared I wouldn’t survive another heartbreak.

“You need to stop with all the men, the drinking, the partying, and the craziness. I have watched you try and destroy yourself for too long and I will not tolerate it any longer. I am done with watching you continue to punish yourself for your parents and your ex, for something that wasn’t your fault. I care about you too much, Savannah. This is a brand new start for both of us, so can we please not fuck it up?”

People never understood my relationship with Mr. Davenport; our relationship was one of complete honesty and no secrets. I owed him that. He had saved me more times than I wished to recount. He was my dad’s best friend since high school and I knew Dad’s death shattered him, but all he cared about was me. He knew of my lifestyle, he knew of my past, he knew everything about Corey and my parents, and although he was supportive, he still found pleasure in pulling rank when needed. He’d saved my life when he offered me a job at Beautify. He had watched my shine fade, the spark in my eye go out, and he’d known I was in survival mode. Much to his distress, he knew that was how I was planning on surviving Los Angeles.

“One of these days, some lowlife fucking scum of the earth will knock you up. Do you want that? I don’t want to have to welcome someone like that into our family,” he continued, his voice deepening with seriousness, low enough for only me to hear.

“Give me some credit. I don’t just fuck anyone,” I growled in response, I picked at a loose thread on my jeans in an attempt to distract myself from what I really wanted to say.

His brow furrowed. “Language, Savannah!”

“Sorry, Mr. Davenport. But seriously, you don’t need to worry about me. I can look after myself,” I replied, needing this conversation to end.

“For the last fucking time, please call me Simon. You make me sound like some kind of pimp when you call me Mr. Davenport.”

“Simon, I will be fine. Have faith in me.” I gave him the sweetest smile I could muster, but he wasn’t impressed.

“I am warning you, Savannah. You are better than that. I don’t want you screwing yourself around Los Angeles. This is a new start and you are a beautiful young woman who deserves the world. I refuse to watch you destroy yourself. Just remember I can take away your job just as quickly as you got it,” he warned and furrowed his eyebrows at me.

I looked at him in disbelief before I found my voice. “You cannot fire me for that!”

His eyes were stern, serious, and fatherly. “Just try me, Savannah.”

BOOK: The Broken Parts Of Us
12.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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