Torn: Part Four (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (The Torn Series Book 4) (2 page)

“About that.” I slide into the chair across from Ann. “I was wondering if we could talk some more.”

She inhales deeply, looking suddenly weary. “I kind of figured you would want to talk more. You were awfully quiet yesterday.”

“We both were,” I remind her.

“I wasn't sure how you would react. And I've had a lot on my mind lately. To be honest, I expected that you'd quit.” She closes her eyes, remorse painting her features. “I'm sorry if that sounds harsh. I know we promised each other, but I also understand that this isn't what you signed up for. I promise I won't have you wiping my butt towards the end or anything like that.”

“Ann.” I tap my hand on the table to get her attention, not wanting to hear any more of this depressing stuff. “That's not what I wanted to talk about at all. I mean, it is related to your cancer, but I'm not thinking that far ahead.”

“Thinking ahead is important, Piper. Not just about that, but about everything in life.” She tilts her head slightly. “But I'll have hospice when the time comes. I'll still expect you to stay by my side, but there won't be any additional duties for you. When I start getting too down to take care of myself, I'll have the dignity to call someone else in. I won't put you through anything that I don't think you can handle.”

The way that she keeps thinking about me makes my heart ache for her. She's such a good person—a good woman—I couldn't ask for a better boss.

“I appreciate it, Ann. I really do. But I want to talk to you about Holden.” I cower slightly, wondering if it's a sore subject.

“Holden. What about him?”

“Why don't you want him to know that you're dying?”

A soft smile plays across her lips. “It seems kind of selfish, doesn't it?”

It's such a strange thing to say. I never even thought about it that way at all.

“I don't know,” I reply.

She leans back in her chair, resting her hands on the table and gazing out the window. “Holden has been overbearing ever since my husband died. Before that, he wasn't very involved in our lives. He was always a good son, but he kind of just came and went as he pleased like most children do when they reach adulthood.

“After Dale passed away, he got a bit clingy, for lack of a better word. You might not be able to tell by looking at him, but Holden has seen a lot of death for his age. He had a younger brother who died from a drug overdose when he was in college. That was only four years ago. It's kind of sad when you think about it,” she furrows her brow for a moment, “the pattern of death in our family. First my son. Then my husband. Now me. I imagine that Holden will feel left behind.”

For the first time ever, I genuinely feel sorry for Holden. Losing both of my parents at the same time was hard enough. I can't even imagine what it must be like to lose one person after another within such close proximity. He must be screwed up from it pretty badly already.

“I had no idea,” I whisper, my tone infused with all of the sympathy I can muster.

Ann blinks as if coming out of a dream, her attention refocusing on me. “It may not seem like it, but Holden and I are very close. He calls me every day. We see each other at least once a week. He has his hands in all of my personal business and finances. He likes to know what I'm doing at all times, where I'm going, who I'm going to be with. The only thing he didn't know about is you.” Her smile broadens and she reaches across the table to pat my hand. “You were my little secret.”

I let out a short laugh, enjoying the warmth that I feel from her though my expression quickly returns to being serious as I think of something else. “If he knows everything, then how come he doesn't know about this? I mean, how come he hasn't found out about it yet.”

“I had to get sneaky.” She withdraws her hand from mine. “As soon as I found out it was cancer and that there was nothing I could do about it, I opened a separate bank account. Knowing that he would be able to tell if I transferred the funds from one bank to another, I took out a lump sum of cash and told him that I had given it to some email scammer who said that his wife was sick. He got so angry at me.” Amusement glimmers in her eyes. “Oh lord did we ever fight over that. I thought he was going to call the Feds in to try to get my money back. It was absolutely ridiculous the fit that he pitched.”

“So how did you manage to get out of that?” I shift my weight, totally engaged in the story.

“Well, I told him that I deleted all of the email correspondence, that I met the man in person and didn't get any of his details. Of course, Holden made me give him a description of the guy which he used to send the police on a wild goose chase. I felt absolutely horrible about it, but what else could I do.” She shrugs. “He couldn't know.”

“Wow. That is incredibly elaborate just to keep something from your son.”

She's a lot smarter than I'm sure Holden gives her credit for. He seems like the type of guy who is so on top of everything. It's hard to believe that he wouldn't have found out about her little lie yet.

“I have my reasons.” She nods.

“Which are?” I quirk an eyebrow.

She cocks her head to the side as if the answer should be obvious. “I think you have a pretty good idea about the way that Holden is just from having breakfast with him.”

If she only knew how much time Holden and I have actually spent together. Back at Club Fet. At the play party. In my car...

I try not to blush as the memory of his face buried between my legs zips through my mind like a bolt of lightening. The thought that I could have had sex with him is strange. The thought that I wanted to is even more disturbing.

“He's something else,” I say uncomfortably.

The lines in her face grow taut for a moment. “I don't have much time left on Earth, and I don't want that time to be micromanaged by my son. If he knew that I have cancer...that I'm dying, he would have staff here to cook for me and clean for me. He'd turn me into an invalid—take away my sense of purpose. Not to mention that every move that I made would be monitored and reported back to him. And he'd nag me relentlessly if I did anything that he didn't think was appropriate for a sick woman, like working on my charities. I can't have that.” She shakes her head. “No, I want to live the rest of my life to the fullest, and in order to do that, Holden can't know that my life is coming to an end.”

I sigh, understanding her reasoning but still not liking it. “Couldn't you just tell him that? Surely, he would understand that these last few months, weeks, days, whatever you have left are precious to you and that you want to experience as much of life as you can?”

She closes her eyes wearily. “I wish that were the case. You don't know my son like I do though. He's one of those people who thinks he always knows best. Always.”

I could definitely see that. Holden is willful if nothing else. So far, he's been pretty relentless about trying to get me fired or to quit. Before, it was my own stubbornness that kept me by Ann's side. Now, the job means so much more to me.

For as much as I know this will kill him when Ann is gone, and for as much as I know that there's a part of me that will regret keeping her secret, Holden can't find out about this. Hopefully, he'll keep his distance and I won't have many opportunities to tell him.

“Alright.” I nod slowly. “If this is what you want, then I'll do my best to understand. It's just kind of hard, coming from where I'm coming from.” I glance up at her, catching her gaze.

“I know, dear.” She smiles at me in thanks. “But your situation was different.”

“It was. I just wish I would have known, you know? I have so many regrets.” I wrap my arms around myself, feeling a flood of unpleasant emotions invading my chest. “There are so many things I would have done differently had I known my mother was going to pass away.”

“I'm sure that Holden will have no shortage of regrets.” She inhales deeply. “But that is no fault of mine.”

I'm taken aback by her seemingly cruel words. It's as if she doesn't care that this decision is going to scar her son for the rest of his life.

Ann continues, “This is why people should appreciate each other all the time. You never know when someone that you love is about to be ripped from the world.”

“I suppose you're right. Still.” I look out the window. There's a tube bird feeder outside covered in birds. They're chirping and pecking, so full of life, completely unaware of the solemn conversation taking place only a few yards away. It almost makes it seem like two different worlds.

“Enough talk about depressing stuff.” She taps the table. “My son may be a pain sometimes, and I might not want him to know about this, but I do want to spend as much time with him as possible before I go. He's all I have left in this world. And so, I'm going to have him over for lunch today.”

CHAPTER TWO

HOLDEN

I slide into the driver's seat of my Ferrari with a sigh before hastily pulling the seatbelt over my chest. I really don't have time for this again, leaving the office in the middle of the day to have lunch with my mother and that infuriating woman. It's not so much that I don't have time. Hell, I own the company. I can pretty much do whatever the fuck I want. It's just that this is tedious and nonsensical.

It's like my mother is trying to prove to me that Piper is a good choice for her employee by forcing us to spend more time together. That's not going to change my opinion of her. This only serves to piss me off and make me dislike her more.

I should have just said no, I think as I pull out of the parking lot. But then I would have lost out on an opportunity to show Piper that I mean business when it comes to getting rid of her. I'm going to make this lunch as miserable and uncomfortable for her as I possibly can. Maybe then they'll both see that this isn't going to end until I get my way.

I spin a web of cruel words all the way to my mother's house. By the time I pull up into the driveway, I have a full arsenal.

When Piper opens the door to me, I look her up and down and snort. The dress she's wearing is entirely inappropriate. Too tight. Too short. My eyes are instantly drawn to her cleavage, and I think of those perfect tits, of how her skin tasted as I took her nipple into my mouth and sucked on it. My cock twitches from the memory, and I silently curse myself for wanting her.

“Do you come to work in the same clothes you go out in?” I step past her, not even bothering to glance back.

The door closes a bit too hard behind us, and I smirk at the thought that I'm already getting under her skin. This might be a fun lunch after all.

“Good evening, Mother.” I stride toward the dining room to find my mother sitting in a chair at the end of the table. She stands to hug me, and I give her a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling out the chair next to her and taking a seat. “Is there a particular reason why I was called away from work again?”

“Called away from work again?” Her expression turns confused.

I cross my ankle over my knee. “As you'll recall, I was just here the other day for breakfast.”

“You came over on your own that time. I had nothing to do with it.” She quirks an eyebrow. “And what's wrong with me wanting to see my son, hm?”

“Nothing except for that I have work to do and can't keep running over here every time you feel lonely. Isn't that what you hired what's her name for?” I gesture absentmindedly towards the kitchen.

Just as I do, Piper comes around the corner carrying two plates of food. She slides one in front of me, and I give it a disgusted look. It appears to be some kind of fish crusted in almonds. The edges are a little burnt; she clearly cooked it for too long. Beside it is a small pile of spinach and clumpy mashed potatoes.

I glare up at her. “At least, I don't have to worry about getting food poisoning from the fish not being fully cooked.”

She pouts mockingly. “Oh, Mister Longworth, I thought you were more cultured than that. You can eat raw tilapia without getting sick. It's called Izumidai.”

I roll my eyes. “Izumidai is Japanese. Tilapia is tilapia in English.” I redirect my attention to my mother, pointing back at Piper. “Are you really going to let your
employee
talk to me like that?”

Mom draws her hand up to her eyes. “The two of you. Please. All I want is to have a nice lunch.”

I glance back at Piper, and she seems to deflate instantly. For a second, I feel guilty, but then I remember my purpose. I can't let this go.

“Seriously, though, way to pick 'em. It's obvious that she isn't good at keeping you company since you needed me to come over here and entertain you for lunch. And she damn sure can't cook.” I push the plate aside.

“Would you just try it before complaining?” My mother lets out an exasperated sigh before picking up her fork.

“Sure. I'm sure it will taste just as horrible as it looks.” I force a sarcastic smile.

We wait for Piper to join us. The tension in the room is so thick that you couldn't cut it with a knife. Piper's body language mirrors my mother's. They both look stiff, on edge. I'm the only one relaxed.

We join hands and my mother says grace. Piper hovers her palm over mine, barely touching me. Her eyes flit up to meet mine in the middle of the prayer, and I smirk wickedly. She doesn't react. She simply lowers her gaze until the prayer is done and we're ready to begin eating.

I pick at the fish and it flakes apart, overcooked and dry. When I stick a forkful into my mouth, my taste buds are beyond underwhelmed. It's about the blandest thing I've ever tasted. The spinach is similarly under-spiced. And the mashed potatoes...I'm pretty sure a child could have made them better. Piper definitely can't cook.

“Well, I'm done.” I fold my napkin and place it on the table after I've sampled everything on my plate.

“You didn't hardly eat at all.” My mother looks at me wide-eyed.

“I can't eat this.” I gesture to the food. “It's inedible.”

“If you'd like to cook, then by all means.” Piper gives me a tight-lipped smile.

“That's your job, sweetheart, or did you forget your job description already. I'll add that to your list of shortcomings. Bad memory.”

“It's not inedible. It's perfectly good food.” I can hear anger edging into my mother's voice.

“Perfectly good?” I snort, cocking my head back. “This stuff isn't fit for a dog. You're going to have to send her off to cooking school if you don't want to eventually end up getting food poisoning. Of course, if it were me, I would just fire her and hire a chef. She's obviously not good at anything.”

“That's enough!” Mom slams her hand down on the table. 

“I'm serious.” I push my chair back. “The girl can't cook. Whether you want to admit it or not, we all know it's true. And if she were any good at keeping you company then I wouldn't be here. You could have had me come over when I was off of work, but you didn't. You wanted me here now, and that must mean that she can't even keep you entertained.”

“Holden, that's not it at all.” Mom shakes her head.

“It's not? Well if you're this damn needy, then get a dog. Some of us actually have to work. We don't all have the luxury of sitting on our asses all day doing nothing.” I stand, glaring down at her.

“Holden, please.” She looks up at me with tear-brimmed eyes, the fight leaving her completely.

I'm too angry with the situation to have any sympathy. She did this to herself. She knew I didn't like Piper and yet she invited me over when Piper was here anyway.

“I'm sorry, Mother, but I don't have time for bad company and shitty cooking. I wish you were stronger. Strong enough to see that you deserve better.” I cast a hateful glance in Piper's direction. Her gaze is fixed on my mother, her jaw set tight. I can tell that it's taking everything in her not to say something. Part of me wants to push them further, to make Piper explode. The fact that my mother is about to cry keeps me from it though.

“Thanks for the shitty meal.” I turn my aggression towards Piper. “I'll have a pizza sent over later so that she doesn't starve to death.” I push my chair in so hard that it hits the table and makes it shake, knocking over a vase of flowers sitting in the center and spilling water everywhere. “You better clean that up.” I nod to it before turning and walking out of the room.