Thankful For Her

“I’ll tell Neil you’re not feeling well. I’m sure he’ll understand. Then I want you to keep your ass in this room,” she says as she walks to the door and unlocks it. Turning to look at me, she says, “And stay away from Hunter Danvers.” Her voice is deadly.

I could almost swear there’s a hint of jealousy in her words. But before I can think on it too much, she closes the door firmly behind her. Then I let the tears fall.

Chapter Two

Hunter

“Sir. Your car is here.”

I look up at my secretary Peggy standing in the doorway of my office. She’s changed. Well, at least I think she has. I would have noticed if she’d been wearing a gown all day at work. Her blonde hair is down like it usually is. She’s always reminded me of a Stepford wife. She’s almost robotic at times. I find it annoying, but she’s good at her job. She never misses anything. She must have something planned tonight. It’s Friday and I still need to change. Not that I want to go. I’ve been dreading this all week.

“They’ll wait,” I tell her.

I know the car is there. I ordered it to arrive twenty minutes ago so I’m sure it’s been there for over thirty. They will wait as long as I want. I’m not in a fucking hurry to get there. The later I get there, the sooner the night will be over. I look back down at my emails, silently dismissing her. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

“I know you don’t have a date for tonight, so I thought maybe I could go with you?” I look back up at Peggy, caught off guard by what she’s saying. “I could be a buffer between you and the party if you like. When we have to do some of these business dinners, I could step in,” she adds quickly.

For the first time she seems off kilter and she’s stumbling over her words. She takes two steps into my office, and I debate her offer. Peggy’s professional when it comes to business. But this is personal. I’m going to my childhood home tonight—a place that’s filled with so many memories that it’s hard to walk in the door. I used to love going home, but that feeling disappeared when I lost my mom and older brother.

To top it off, my dad replaced my mom so quickly. I never understood how he could love her so much and move on almost immediately. I saw him after he lost them. I could have sworn he was going to follow them into the grave. I can’t blame him. I wanted to do the same. But all too soon he was moving on, and I still had not. I’m stuck in a hollow place, and I can’t bring myself to clear out my brother’s office. It’s across the hall from mine, and I let it stay the way he left it. I won’t let anyone enter it and I haven’t even gone in it since he died. I know I’ve gone to the other extreme from my father, and I know it isn’t healthy, but I’m not ready to face it.

Peggy clears her throat. Fuck, I’d forgotten about her, and then I realize I didn’t even answer her.

“No,” I say, and I don’t look at her.

“But sir—”

“I have an early conference call tomorrow. Be here on time. Have a good evening,” I tell her, cutting her off.

I stand up from my desk as she exits my office and closes the door. I walk into my attached bathroom and put on my tux. I hate this shit. Almost as much as I hate my dad’s new wife. I don’t know why anyone would want a black-tie affair for Thanksgiving—this has to be her idea.

I wish I only hated her because she moved into my mom’s place too quickly, but the real reason I hate her is because I can see right through her. Plus, my mom would never have done shit like this. A fucking tux at the house for some party where we don’t know anyone. I grip the side of the sink thinking about how Friday night dinners at home used to be fun.

I reach under the sink where I keep a bottle of liquor and pull it out. I pour some into a glass and shoot it back before doing it again quickly. I need to numb the flood of memories, but even the burn of the alcohol doesn’t stop them.

Mom would make all of us help her cook. Then she’d pester us about when we’d be giving her grandbabies and daughters-in-law. I’d once entertained the idea of things like that, but not now. Now I know I’ll never marry or have children. If I lost them one day it would be more than I could bear. I’ve lost more in this lifetime than I can bear. I can’t imagine feeling that kind of pain again.