Hate to Lose You

“Company-wide lunches? Sponsored talks by some phony social life coach—”

“Team building exercises, Dad. And if you ask me, they’re working. I just got out of another round of employee interviews, and everyone here is thriving—”

“Because you’re bribing them with free food and drinks, and spending half their paid time goofing off instead of making them work!” Burke Senior’s voice rises in irritation.

“I’m not bribing them, Dad, I’m making sure we start off on the right foot here. You told me employee retention was your top priority with this round of hires. I’m just going by what you told me, trying to ensure that everyone feels supported and like they can work to their fullest potential.”

“A real leader wouldn’t need to buy people off to keep them around,” his father snaps.

Bronson’s voice drops to a whisper, so low I almost have to lean out of my semi-hiding spot to hear. “I thought you’d approve. I thought you’d be proud of me.”

“Proud of you for wasting yet more of my money?” Bronson Senior sneers down at his son. “I should never have entrusted you with this task. Clearly it’s beyond your abilities.”

“That’s hardly fair—”

“What’s hardly fair, son, is that I gave you one simple job to do, and you continue to disappoint and fail me at every possible turn. I’m cutting off your corporate spending abilities, effective immediately. Find some way to retain your employees that doesn’t involve bribery. Try taking an actual leadership position, for once in your life.” With that, his father spins on his heel and storms toward the exit.

I duck back out of sight before Bronson turns around. Still, I can’t quite make myself walk away up the hall, or pretend that I didn’t overhear.

When he finally walks back into the office past me, I’m still pressed up against the wall, and I can’t help the sympathy that wells up in my expression the moment he and I make eye contact.

His angry scowl turns into more of a pained grimace. He sighs and runs a hand over his eyes, pausing to massage his temples. “How much of that did you overhear?” he asks.

“Enough,” I murmur. “Bronson, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. Lets his hand drop, and squares his shoulders, his anger and sorrow fading into a resolved sort of glare. “I’m used to it by now.”

I can’t stand seeing him like this. Knowing how hurt he must be by everything his father just said, and feeling so unable to help. “Let’s do something,” I blurt, before I can think better of it. “After work today.”

He blinks at me in surprise. “I thought after-hours hang-outs were off limits with you, Ms. Rider.”

“I’m making an exception, Mr. Burke.” I flash him a bright smile. “Let’s go hiking. Up north of the city. I know the perfect trail; I’ve wanted to check it out ever since I got here. And just in case my time here is running short…”

“Don’t tell me you’re completely disappointed by my efforts here too,” he groans. “I don’t want a pity date.”

“No pity.” I press my hand over my heart. “And I think you’re doing a great job so far, honest, Bronson.”

“But not good enough to convince you to stay,” he counters, eyes narrowed, searching mine.

“We’ll see. You’re only halfway into the challenge, after all.” I force a smile. I hope he can’t see right through it to the pained truth underneath. “So what do you say? Up for a mountain climb to take your mind off all this?” I sweep an arm behind me toward the office in general.

His smile widens. “With you? Anytime.” Then he hesitates, squinting at me. “Wait. How high of a mountain are we talking…?”

The hike is only a short drive north of LA, yet from the moment we stop and step out of the car, it looks like we’ve emerged from the city onto some alien planet. Because out here, as far as the eye can see, once we’ve hiked high enough into the woods to lose sight of our car in the parking lot—which happens a lot faster than I expect—there’s nothing but blue skies and green grass.

No skyscrapers. No buildings at all, in fact. No signs of civilization except the worn path beneath our feet and the occasional sign pointing us in the right direction, and warning us about the dangers of wildfires along the way.

We hike along, not talking for the first few hundred yards as we catch our breaths, adjusting to the slight altitude here. It’s been so long since I’ve done something like this, gotten out into nature. It feels rejuvenating, even if I already know I’m going to be sore tomorrow. I haven’t been working out nearly as much as I should out here, either. I’ve been so busy, so consumed with office politics and my own frustrations that I haven’t been taking care of myself the way I normally do.

I resolve to change that when I get home. I’ll take care of both my mother and me, when I get back. No more of this work, work, and only work mentality. It’s not healthy.

Eventually, as we walk, Bronson breaks the silence. “You know, I grew up here the whole first eighteen years of my life, and I’ve never done this,” he says.

I turn over my shoulder to smile back at him where he’s hiking along behind me. I turn just in time to catch him eying my ass, and it makes me warm all over, to know the effect I have on him. It also makes me want to let him pass me, so I can be the one with the view. “I was just thinking about how I’ve been meaning to come out here the whole nine time I’ve been here,” I say, “And I never did. This city has a way of distracting me from what I really want to be doing.”

He laughs. “Still. You only had a few months.” He hikes closer to me. I slow to let him walk side-by-side, here where the trail widens a little. “You’ve got more of an excuse than me.”

“How come you never came out here?” I tilt my head, studying him from the corner of my eye.

He laughs a little. “My father preferred I engage in ‘higher grade’ activities.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Such as…?”

“You know. Yachting, schmoozing in the country clubs. Taking any extracurricular he thought would give me an advantage when it came to college applications.” We round a tighter spot on the trail, and Bronson stops, waving me forward. “Ladies first.”

I pass him, then call over my shoulder. “Did you always do only what your dad wanted you to, then?”

“Only what he and my mom encouraged me to, yeah.” He sighs, loud enough for me to catch it over the crunch of our feet on the rocky path. “I kept thinking if I did everything right, stuck to their plan for my life, then eventually they’d show me they were proud of me. Eventually they’d trust me. But they never did. I toed the line my whole elementary and high school life, and all I ever got in return for it were more marching orders to follow.”

“Then what happened?” I ask, and then hesitate in my steps. We’ve reached a ledge, high up and overlooking the Pacific in the distance. The blue winks at me in the late afternoon sun, sparkling like a precious gem. The sky overhead is a hazy orange, and I can already tell, even though it’s a couple hours away still, that it’s going to lead to a spectacular sunset.

Bronson steps up beside me, and his hand comes to rest easily on the small of my back. I slide my arm around his waist in reciprocation, leaning against him, and loving the way my body fits so easily into his, like I was made to stand here, created to curl up against his side this way. “Then… I freaked out,” he says. “I couldn’t t

ake it anymore. I couldn’t stand being the good, dutiful son who got no credit for anything, and no freedom to choose his own path besides.”

I lean my head against his shoulder as he speaks. His chest vibrates against my ear, a low hum that’s reassuring and steady as he talks.

“I ran away. I was stupid, young and crazy and in need of blowing off about eighteen years of steam all at once. You can imagine what a shit show those first years were.”

“Years?” I tilt my head back to squint up at him. But he’s not looking at me. He’s gazing out over the ocean, his eyes and his thoughts a million miles away.

“I’d saved up money for it—more than enough, or it should have been. But again, young and stupid. I made a lot of dumb mistakes those years. Pretty soon I was running on empty in the bank. That’s when I started borrowing.”

I tighten my grip on his waist in support.

“It was small loans at first. A couple hundred bucks here and there, credit the casino owners in Vegas were willing to extend to me, because of my long standing there.” He laughs, a rueful sound. “And my reputation for losing big all the damn time, of course. The House always win, and I think I knew it at the time, but it never stopped me from wanting to try again.”

I shut my eyes, concentrating on the hum of his voice, the vibration of his chest against my cheek.

“Eventually, the loans piled up, and got more drastic. Borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, only Peter was a creep and Paul was a straight-up mafia boss. You can guess how it went. Once you’re in deep with something like that, it’s nigh on impossible to claw your way out without… well.”

“Without a billionaire father to rescue you?” I point out, but this time my voice is soft. Gentle with understanding.

I can feel the shift in his body as he nods. “I wasn’t about to go there. So I went on the run instead. Hopping from town to town, never staying long. If I planted anywhere for too long, they always wound up catching wind of me, catching up. But then…” His hand slides around from the small of my back to wrap around my waist. He tugs me gently against him, and I tip my head back to hold his gaze, which is back on me now, his face lit by the afternoon sun, a brilliant, warm bronze that makes me want to never look away again. “I met you,” he says, those gray eyes locked on mine. “And suddenly, for the first time in a long time, I wanted to try standing still.”