Everything's Better With You, page 9
I didn't respond to him. I felt it was best to keep my distance and not say anything, though I was curious to know how he knew my name. I didn't think Nate told him about me. Even worse, he was blocking the bagels, and I was starving.
"I came here looking for my wife, but I did hope to meet you. I knew when the kids came to me with this nonsense about not marrying that there was something else going on, or someone else. I'll have to admit, you are a beauty, not worth a million dollars…"
He paused and eyed me carefully. I knew he was trying to gauge my reaction to this tidbit of news and I fought to keep my face impassive, but my heart was pounding. How did he know about the money— the money that I didn't ask for, the money I never wanted.
“I thought your father was doing well. I have a Ben Moore original hanging in my study. I wasn’t aware he’d fallen on such hard times that his daughter had to resort to sleeping with wealthy men for money, but then I knew your mother… Ava Cabot, if I’m not mistaken? Or does she go by Ava Moore these days?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer and I felt my cheeks start to flush and the beginning of tears stinging my eyes. I fought harder to keep my composure. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to slap my parent’s names out of his mouth.
“I didn’t know her as well as I’d have liked— she was a beauty just like you— but I’ve heard the stories. Maybe the apple doesn't fall far from the tree…
"Is your employer at The Gentleman's Club aware of your arrangement with my son? Do they get a percentage or are you a —what do the kids say these days— a freelancer?"
I could feel myself shaking with rage. My chin started to tremble. I closed my eyes in an attempt to contain my ire, and one betraying tear slid down my cheek. When I opened my eyes, he was glaring at me victoriously, the ghost a smile fading on his lips.
"I'll make you an offer, and I'll make it only once. Two million dollars and you leave immediately and never contact my son again. He and Catherine can get married, and everything can go back to normal. Refuse, and I will ruin your life and everyone who had the misfortune to cross your path. I will have your name and face on the front page of every magazine and newspaper in the world. You'll be the woman who sold her body to one half of New York's most prominent couple. How does the headline Million Dollar Pussy sound? Catchy, isn’t it? I think it has…”
Richard Price’s verbal assault was interrupted by the elevators door opening.
ten
nathan
My precious Abby had saved me again. Her simple utterance was swirling around my head as I held her angelic sleeping form against me.
Well, you know now. It’s not too late.
I had poured my heart out to her not once but twice. I had cried in her arms, something I’d never done before, not even with Catherine. I felt raw, vulnerable, exposed and like I could have lost her any minute. But she just loved me through it, and what's more, she inspired me.
Being with Abby made me feel like anything was possible. I carried her upstairs, and I made love to her as I never had before. I felt lighter and more free. I spent the entire night worshipping her gorgeous little body, making her climax as many times as she could handle. I wanted to show her how much she meant to me, how much I needed her. I wanted to make her feel as half as good as she made me feel with just one of her smiles. Every day we spent together she became more and more mine, but after that night, I was entirely hers.
When we finally collapsed into bed after having fucked in every corner of our bedroom, she snuggled in the crook of my arm and rested her head on my chest.
“Tell me about your mom,” she whispered, making small delicate circles on my chest with her finger. “What was she like before you went to school?”
I exhaled.
Twenty fours hours ago this was the last conversation I would want to have with anyone, but I wanted to tell Abby anything she wanted to know. I could never deny her any request. It wasn't only because I loved her so much, but for the first time in my life, I had someone I could trust entirely with every part of myself.
I told her about the woman I'd only known for the first ten years of my life. My mother was usually the only mother at the playground in a sea of nannies and au pairs. She once proudly wore a chocolate handprint on a Versace gown to a gala because she'd always insisted on what she called a kiss and a cuddle before she left the house— whether it was for a spa appointment or a state dinner. She also insulated us from my father's disappointment or indifference because she showered us with enough love for two parents.
I recounted the day Adam, and I left for school. She didn't cry, but her eyes were swollen and red, and she wasn't wearing any makeup, which was extremely rare. We took turns hugging, and she told us to be good. Then, she just walked away.
Our father accompanied us to the airport, and we flew to Europe with our nanny and security. We didn't see our mother for six months, but when we returned she was gone. She had been replaced by a ghost who barely spoke and— I realized years later— was under the influence of whatever she could use to numb herself.
When I stopped talking I could hear Abby quietly sobbing and felt her tears pooling on my chest. She was crying for me and not because of me, a concept I wouldn’t have been able to grasp two weeks ago. I stroked her hair until I could feel her breathing deepen and hear her soft adorable snores but I couldn’t join her in sleep. I laid awake replaying every moment of my childhood realizing we were all victims of my father’s avarice.
If being with Abby these last two weeks has taught me nothing else, it's taught me that everyone thrives on love. Abby was raised showered in love, and it has made her the person I can't imagine living without, it's also why she finds me so worthy of her love though I've never experienced it or I thought I didn’t until she helped me remember. For the first ten years of my life, I had been loved.
I carefully placed her on the mattress, slid the back of my fingertips down her bare back, planted a kiss on her shoulder and went to the gym to clear my head. After an hour on the treadmill Abby's message was obvious, and I knew what I had to do.
I sent my head of security to run a special errand for my angel. For the first time, I showered and dressed in the master bedroom to let her sleep uninterrupted. When Rob returned, I arranged her surprise on the kitchen counter where she'd be sure to see it, wrote her a note and left it on her pillow. She had wrapped her body around my pillow but was still fast asleep. I lifted up the sheet to briefly gaze at the masterpiece that was her body. My eyes traveled over every delicious curve and fold of her soft flesh, and I was a little sad I wouldn't be waking her up, but I promised myself I would make it up to her.
My first stop was Adam. My little brother was two years younger than I was and often referred to as "the spare" by my father. He made it no secret that I was his favorite child, a designation that earned me no rewards. This left Adam to flourish in the shadow of neglect. As long as he never got into trouble— which meant he didn’t do anything to embarrass my father—he had freedoms that I could never dream of. I was glad for him but also a little jealous.
However, as a Price, Adam was expected to attend Harvard and work for Price/Covington. Adam decided he wanted to be an architect and got accepted to Pratt, which was no easy feat. Our father promptly disowned him, completely cutting him off. He sold everything he could to pay his tuition and crashed at my New York apartment while I was in Cambridge. Once I graduated and started working, I helped him finish school. As soon as he graduated at the top of his class, my father had him blacklisted from most of the top architecture firms in the city. That man hated to lose.
Chet and I hired him to design all of our offices. Soon he was able to get his own smaller clients, build a professional portfolio and now works for Will + Peking, a large architecture firm in Manhattan, that coincidently does not have the best relationship with Price/Covington. While I'm sure Adam's talent had a lot to do with his position, I'm sure the chance to piss off my father got him in the door. He isn't rich, but he's his own man, like me. He never talks to my father, so he's also happy.
Our conversation was short. Adam didn't need a lot of convincing. He was as angry, sad and confused as I was when I finished recounting the details of my last face to face with our father, probably more. He was younger than I was and closer to our mother. He cried for weeks after we left and her rejection upon our return almost broke him. I'd always resented her for that. If only I'd known the truth.
Well, you know now. It’s not too late.
We convinced our mother to meet us for breakfast alone to avoid a confrontation with Richard. Her willingness was a good sign. I know she and Adam speak a few times a month by phone, but I wasn't sure how long it had been since they'd seen each other. I'm sure his presence factored into her decision. I, of course, had seen her a few days ago and we remembered how that went. With all of our arrangements made, we went over the details again and waited.
NORMA'S in The Parker Meridien hotel was the obvious choice for our meeting. They first opened when we were kids, and our mother would take us there almost every weekend. We never worried about soiling our clothes or eating with the right fork. She allowed us to order anything and eat as much as we wanted. Those Sundays were the happiest times in my life, before I met Abby.
Vivian Price entered the restaurant dressed in all black and wearing large sunglasses. She floated to our table and lowered herself into the empty chair as gracefully as a swan. She removed her sunglasses to reveal her familiar, sad and expertly made-up eyes. None of us spoke for a long moment.
"Mother, I told Adam about… lunch." I cleared my throat. She sighed deeply and turned to Adam while reaching for my hand. I took it, using both of my hands to envelop her small cold one in warmth.
“So,” she exhaled, “now you know.” Adam’s eyes were glossy with tears. He seemed unable to speak.
"Yes, Mother," I continued. "We know now, and it's not too late."
Breakfast went better than expected. Apparently, Mother had been doing a lot of thinking since the last time we saw each other and was very receptive to our offer. I'd made some calls and hired one of the best private substance abuse treatment coordinators to supervise her recovery. Dr. Diane Walters met us at the restaurant. My brother and I held our mother's hands as the doctor laid out a comprehensive plan for her recovery. Mother was embarrassed, nervous, somber and scared but Adam and I assured her that she had our full support every step of the way. Her journey would be long and arduous, but she wouldn't be alone.
When Dr. Walters left a weight seemed to have been lifted. We filled the table with blueberry pancakes, lobster frittatas, and chocolate french toast. We filled the time with eighteen years of events, interrupted by apologies, tears, forgiveness, and laughter.
The conversation turned to Abby. Once I started, I couldn't stop talking about her. My cheeks hurt from smiling. Adam chimed in with the events of the night we met from his point of view, which while funny considering everything that's happened since reminded me that I needed to call Chet and patch things up. He was only looking out for Catherine and me. He had a fucked up way of getting his message across, but his heart was in the right place. I paid the check, and we climbed into the back of my SUV.
“Take us home, Rob.”
I distinctly remember the three of us were laughing when the elevator doors opened. I remember because the sight that greeted me caused my expression to change so quickly it felt like I'd been punched.
My father was standing in front of the kitchen island, and directly in front of the carefully stacked pyramid of bagels I left for Abby, which appeared to be untouched. He was sneering, a look I knew too well, at someone across the great room.
That, someone, was Abby. She seemed to be supporting herself on the banister of the staircase leading to our bedroom. She was dressed in only a bathrobe, and she looked terrified. My feet were moving before I could fully comprehend the situation.
“Shut the fuck up!” I heard myself scream as I moved towards Abby. “Don’t fucking look at her! Don’t fucking talk to her!”
When I reached Abby, she was shaking like a leaf. Silent tears were racing each other down her cheeks. My desire to take care of her overwhelmed my anger, for the moment, and I scooped her into my arms and raced up the stairs. I sat her down on our bed, and she fell apart sobbing.
“Abby, baby, talk to me,” I pleaded. I knelt in front of her trying to make eye contact. My mind was racing. How the fuck did he get in here? What did he say to her? What did he want? I promised her she wouldn’t get hurt again. If he hurt her… “What happened?”
She sobbed even harder, still refusing to look at me. I sat on the floor in front of her and pulled her into my lap. I hugged her close to me with my right arm, gently cupped her chin with my left hand and turned her face to mine.
"Abby, I'm so sorry I wasn't here to protect you. I don't know how he got in here and I promise you it won't happen again, but you need to know I love you more than anything in this world. He can't hurt you. I won't allow it, but you have to tell me what happened." I pressed our lips together. Her kiss was warm, sweet and salty from her tears. I felt her melt against me, and she stopped trembling. She took a deep, ragged breath triggering a fresh wave of tears and began talking.
Every word fueled my rage. Not only had he threatened the woman I love, her family and her friends but this delusional piece of shit actually thought Catherine and I would still get married. He was completely fucking insane, and while I was stuffing my face with blueberry pancakes, Abby was here alone taking the brunt of his rage, something her beautiful, loving upbringing left her entirely unprepared for.
When she uttered the words million dollar pussy, I'd had enough. I sent a quick text to Rob, kissed Abby, apologized again and promised to fix everything. I leaped to my feet and headed for the lower level.
As I raced down the corridor, I heard a woman's voice getting louder as I approached the staircase. As I neared the first step, I was stopped in my tracks for the second time in the last half hour. My mother had my father backed against the island countertop with one of her slender manicured fingers inches away from his nose.
"—and you will not touch that girl! I won't have it!" she screeched. "I've stood by for thirty-five years and watched you lie, cheat, steal and manipulate to get what you wanted. I should have protected my children from you years ago, and I didn't. I will have to live with that, but I can protect them from you now. I'm divorcing you, Richard. And you will leave me, Adam, Catherine, Nathan and Abigail alone or so help me God, I will burn Price/Covington to the ground and you with it. You know I have the power to do it. Don't forget the foundation Price/Covington is built on," She slapped her open palm on her chest. "My pedigree."
The silence was unnerving. In the almost thirty years I’d known her, I’d never heard my mother raise her voice. I looked at Adam. He was frozen in place with his jaw was on the floor. My father looked like a scared cat, shrunken and terrified. My mother stood glaring at him with her nostrils flared. She seemed, for lack of a better word, bigger. She commanded the space where she stood, staring down my father who was broader and almost a foot taller. I had never met these people before, but the look on my father's face was priceless and wish I’d had the forethought to snap a picture with my phone.
The tension shattered like a pane of glass when the elevator doors opened, and Rob entered with two of his security team. He glanced around the penthouse before spotting me at the top of the stairs.
"Sir?" He was confused by the scene. Honestly, I was only slightly less confused.
"My father was just leaving." I managed to say after a few seconds before descending. "He might need a little assistance." Richard suddenly came to life, and his face darkened.
“This isn’t over, Vivian,” he hissed as he made he way to the elevator giving Rob no resistance.
“You should hope it is,” my mother called to his retreating figure, “for your sake.”
The elevator containing my father and two members of my security team departed, and Rob stepped forward.
“Sir, there was a security breach. A member of the Excelsior staff was compromised, a doorman named Ronald Day. That’s how Richard Price was able to gain access to the residence. Mr. Day has been relieved of duty.” I nodded my approval.
"Ronny?!" a voice called from above our heads. Abby was standing at the top of the stairs in the spot where I stood just a minute ago. She was wearing a long white cotton dress, her hair was floating around her shoulders, and she looked every bit like the angel she was. She ran down the staircase and was at my side looking up at me. "Ronny's son has cancer. He and his wife just celebrated their tenth anniversary." I furrowed my brow at her. How did she know all this? "I made him a bracelet for her." She smiled sheepishly, and I was already melting.
“I know what he did was wrong, but can you give him a chance to explain? Maybe, help him find another job?” I stared at her in disbelief. She smiled again. I was helpless. I looked at Rob and nodded.
“I’ll make some calls,” he said and turned to enter the elevator which returned.
"Thank you," she whispered. I leaned down and kissed her. I could tell she had been crying, but I was glad to see her smile returned.
“Didn’t I already tell you that I would do anything for you?” I kissed her again. “Why didn’t you wait for me upstairs?”
“Your family is my family, remember?” She shrugged. I grinned and kissed her again. I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her off of her feet. “And I really wanted a bagel.” I laughed and tickled her before setting her down again.
"Come here, smart ass." I swatted her behind, and she giggled. "I want you to meet someone."
“You remember Adam, right?”
"We've never been formally introduced, but Nate talks about you all the time. He tells me you're the best person to help me design my studio."
