Scrooge

36. Haylee

36

HAYLEE

D an is waiting for us, and we jump in the car and are at the bar in ten minutes. It’s busy, as lots of people have stayed out after work, the streets packed with tourists, the festive cheer well and truly in full swing now that there is only a week or so left until Christmas. It is a great time to be in New York. The windows along Fifth Avenue sparkle, featuring an array of festive colors and creations. There really is magic in the air, and I can’t help but smile. Life feels good.

I don’t know what it is, but everything seems more vibrant than before. We have been holed up in each other for what feels like weeks, barely seeing the outside world, especially after our quick trip to the Hamptons. Today is the first day I have been back in the shop, and my muscles are a little sore from lifting all the boxes of toys we had delivered, already wrapping and sorting them into age groups to prepare for the Jackson Enterprises holiday party.

As we make our way through the crowded bar, Alex holds my hand tight, and I follow him closely as we single file through the venue. The media are still following us, and I am grateful that this place has good security at the door. Although, I think I saw a few of Alex’s team following us, something he must have organized.

Alex has been increasingly protective since the incident with Jaryd. It’s both nice to have someone who is looking out for me, when my previous relationship was nothing like this, but also scary, because it’s almost like I am waiting. Waiting for something terrible to happen.

“Sorry, I got caught up,” Alex says a little stiffly as he shakes the hand of who I assume is Logan. We are at the back of the bar, hidden away in a dark corner.

“It isn’t like you to be late,” Logan says, and I step out from behind Alex, my smile wide, excited to meet him.

“This is my fiancée, Haylee,” Alex introduces me, his hand finding the small of my back as I put my hand out.

“Hi, Logan, so great to meet you,” I say, feeling chirpy. How could I not? Alex got me a tree. A real-life Christmas tree that is as tall as his ceiling, and it took hours to decorate. He had the fire lit, the music playing, and he was right, even Mother Nature came to the party with snow tonight.

“Haylee?” He says my name like it is a complete surprise.

“Shit, was this a boys' night? Did I totally screw up boys' night?” I ask, brow pinched as I look up at Alex. Given the sour look on Logan’s face, that must be it.

“No, Sunflower, you’re fine. One more is not an issue.” Alex nods to the barmaid, who is quick on the drink orders, and we all take a seat. Logan sits on one side, Alex and I the other, in a small booth that provides privacy, making it is a little easier to hear each other.

“So, how long have you two known each other?” I ask, settling in and making small talk, because Logan still looks like a rat shit in his mouth, and Alex is now preoccupied with his cell, something obviously catching his eye from work.

“Years. The two of us went to college together,” Logan says, leaning back against the leather seat of the booth. He puts his arms up, stretching them across the back of the booth, taking up all of the room on his side, and I bite the inside of my mouth. I’ve seen this before. Manspreading, I think they call it. When a man takes up too much room, making himself bigger than he already is. Their attempt at being intimidating.

“So, do you work in property development too?”

“No.” Logan chuckles, swirling his glass of whiskey before throwing it back and indicating to the bar staff for another. I am not sure how many he has had, but by the look of him, I’d say a few.

“Sorry, I just need to make a quick call,” Alex says, looking at me remorsefully before pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll just be a minute; it’s my guy in Singapore.” Standing, he walks away, and I lose him among the crowd.

“So, you are who he found for the agreement?” Logan asks, sipping another whiskey, and I still. My heart thumps, my throat immediately drying as fear creeps up my chest.

“I am not sure what you mean?” I say, acting dumb. I fidget in my seat, feeling uncomfortable. The music is loud, but so is he, and any number of people could hear this conversation. Knowing Alex told his best friend about this situation, yet didn’t give me a heads-up, makes me feel even worse. He said only Sheridan and Laurent knew. Hell, he didn’t even want my own sister to know initially.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, your secret is safe with me.” Winking, he smirks, looking happy as a pig in shit to see how clearly uneasy I am. I shiver, getting a bad feeling. I’m generally not a woo-woo type of person, but my skin is tingling from being alone with this guy, almost like my fight-or-flight is starting to kick in. “But…” he continues, letting his words sit between us before I bite.

“But what?” I look around for Alex but can’t spot him. Holding on tightly to my handbag on my lap, I wonder if I should dig out my cell and call Alex, but I am a big girl. I can handle it. I’m more concerned he didn’t tell me that he confided in Logan, and now my mind is racing about what else he’s kept from me. The feeling I had earlier of us being together and on one team starts to dissipate. The familiar failure at choosing a man who could love me starts to build and my confidence wanes. Maybe love just isn’t meant for a girl like me, after all.

“Well, I'm just wondering how much he is paying you, because I might need your services,” he says, and I think my soul leaves my body.

“Services?” I ask, feeling sick in my stomach.

“Well, I am taking over the family law firm. I need to keep up appearances. When Alex is finished with you, I might use you for my own purposes. Are you fucking him, or is that extra?”

Again, my eyes flick up to the crowd. Is that how Alex sees me? I know he said the agreement was null and void, but why would he tell his best friend I am for hire?

“You think I am an escort?” I ask, my blood now starting to boil. A cat lady. That is what I am going to become. Men. They are all the same. I grab my ear, a move I realize I haven’t done recently. My ear stings with the severity that I grip it.

“A mighty fucking fine one too… Open your top button, let me have a little look at you for when I fuck my hand later.”

I vomit a little in my mouth before I bolt to my feet so quickly I almost fall. Blood rushing around my body, my vision feels like it goes black around the edges. I’m hot all over and feel like I’m going to vomit. I can’t get air. I look around the room. Are people staring at me? Gossiping about me? Do they all think that I'm an escort? Is that what the media’s saying?

I swallow, my heart thumping a painful beat. I think I’m going to have a panic attack. Shit, am I having a panic attack right now? I need to get out of here. With my handbag in a death grip, I start to maneuver out of the booth.

“Hey, darlin’, where do you think you are going?” Logan asks, moving quickly, grabbing my wrist. I wince as I pull up suddenly and look down at him. “Sit down, we need to talk,” he says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. I look up to see if I can spot any familiar faces, but I can’t. I’m alone.

I sit right on the edge of the seat, ready to run at a moment's notice. I need to get out of here. I need to get some air. I need to get home.

“Now, you are going to end this little charade with Alexander immediately; otherwise, I am going to tell everyone about it.” He is acting like this is the best day of his life, while my world is crumbling. Again.

“What?” I ask, confused, wondering what he is getting at.

“You heard me. Alexander has been different now that you are around. Missing our meetings, hanging out with homeless people. It isn’t a good look,” he says with a shake of his head, and I frown. “ You are bringing him down. I know this is all an agreement, but it has gone too far now and needs to stop.”

“Bringing him down?” I question, my head like mush, finding it difficult to hear him and process what he’s saying. But my temperature rises at this asshole insinuating that not only I am a hooker, but I am also lowering Alex’s profile when it has done nothing but rise to positive standing since we got together. So, if nothing else, I have held up my end of the contract.

“You are interrupting the flow of things. The natural order of things.”

“I don’t understand,” I say as my anxiety peaks, mixed with bubbling anger and a desperate need to escape this moment. This is how I felt all those months ago, after I left Jaryd.

“Pretty, but dumb,” he huffs. “Let me be real clear. Now that you are in the picture, I’m being pushed away. Having the richest man in the city as my best friend has perks that I am not ready to let go of just yet.”

“Perks?” I question, trying to keep my voice steady. It’s not easy with my body vibrating from the inside, nerves running amuck.

“Networks, connections, money, and…” He looks down my body and back up again with a look that I want to scratch from his face. “Pussy.”

I think this guy even gives Jaryd a run for his money. His words, his aura, his look, it’s all disgusting. Given that he is Alex’s best friend, I’m really questioning if anything I saw of Alex is actually true.

“So you need to end things. Immediately. Cut all ties. No seeing, speaking, or fucking him anymore,” he says, and I take in a shaky breath.

“And if I don’t?” I dare to ask.

“If you don't, I will tell my friend, who is the editor at New York Business magazine, about this entire charade, and Alex goes down harder than a drunk on the Fourth of July. You will lose your precious toy store because, hell, I am sure families don’t want to go buy their kids toys from a hooker.” Nearly laughing, he throws back the rest of the second glass of whiskey he’s had since I sat here tonight.

I swallow, not able to move. My mind is a mess. I have no idea what to think or what to do. I have no idea who to believe or what is going on, but I do know one thing. I always keep my end of a deal, and because that is what got me into this whole mess, I will make sure I’m a woman of my word. Alex needs to have a clean reputation and a lift in his profile. I just hope that our rental agreement will stay as it was and he keeps to his end of the agreement as well.

“When?” I ask, then watch as his smile broadens.

“Tonight is as good a night as any.”

Before I give him a nod, I take a moment to really take him in. He is so different from Alex. Overweight, sloppily dressed, obviously underhanded. Glancing through the crowd to the front doors, I spot a few photogs, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

“I have your word?” I ask, standing, and I put my bag over my shoulder. I’m going to run for it. This isn’t my life. It never was. Hanging out in a penthouse, taking a helicopter to the Hamptons. That isn’t me. It was always an agreement. I was the fool who thought it was more. I was the fool who thought it was love.

“You do.” He nods, and I step away, pushing through the crowd, which is easy to do when you are short like me. Moving under their eyeline, my head down, my shoulders rounded, I feel battered and beaten, even though physically I am fine. I reach the door and pull up my collar, wrapping the thick scarf around my neck so it covers my ears and half my face. Thank God for the snow. I now look like everyone else trying to get home this wintery evening. Keeping my head low, I push open the doors. No one bothers to look my way. They are waiting for Alex, not thinking I would leave solo, so I walk fast to the end of the street, and once I am around the corner, I make a run for it.

I run to preserve Alex’s profile, and to preserve my heart, although I think that’s already broken.