Every Little Thing
Page 71
Well Vaughn understood power and if he had to he would squash this fucker. On that thought he slowly made his way over to Devlin’s desk.
He stopped when the piece of furniture dug into his legs. “I’m onto you.”
Ian smirked. “Really? You barge in here like a lunatic to deliver that cliché of a line.”
“If anyone is a cliché, Devlin, it’s you. It amazes me what you think you can get away with.”
“And what is it you think I’m trying to get away with?”
“You have one of your little lackies fucking Vanessa Hartwell.”
Nothing. No surprise. No disgust. No triumph. Nothing. Instead he shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about Jack using my hotel as a stage for his escort services. Because that’s what it is, right? You’re paying him to fuck Vanessa . . . to get to Bailey and her inn.”
“My, my, you have quite the imagination.”
Fury blasted through Vaughn and he slammed his fist down on the desk rather than into Devlin’s face. “I let that other piece of shit son get away with breaking into Bailey’s place, but I haven’t forgotten, and I haven’t forgiven. I swear to God”—he pushed his face into the old man’s—“you come after Bailey again and I will end you. I will end the lot of you.” His voice lowered with vitriol. “And don’t think I can’t do it. You are a big fish in a small pond. I’m a fucking shark in the ocean.”
For a moment Vaughn thought he saw uncertainty flicker in Devlin’s eyes, but if it was there, it was gone in an instant. Still sure he’d made his point, and sure that the message had sunk in, he turned on his heel to leave.
He’d just opened the door when Devlin’s smug voice stopped him.
“Not very smart.”
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction but not liking the threat in his tone, Vaughn looked back at him.
Ian was grinning. “Not very smart, Mr. Tremaine, is it, to unmask your vulnerabilities to someone you so clearly see as a threat. All this time I had to wonder, what is Vaughn Tremaine’s weakness? And what do you know? It’s a redhead with a smart mouth.”
The desire to punch him was so great, Vaughn felt his hand curling into a fist. Instead he threw him one last look of revulsion and stormed out of the building.
Back inside his car he let go of the breath he’d been holding in and slammed his hands down on his steering wheel. “Fuck!”
Exhausted and worried, Vaughn laid his head on the wheel and tried to will himself to calm down.
These past few weeks he’d been fighting with himself, knowing that he was in love with Bailey, but not knowing whether he could sacrifice his autonomy for her. But there really wasn’t anything to think about.
Not after he’d acted like a lunatic based on a split-second assumption he’d made. Vaughn had great instincts and he knew he was right about Jack. But driving over to threaten Devlin, revealing his weakness . . .
Ian Devlin was right. Bailey Hartwell was his Achilles’ heel.
On that thought he started the engine and pulled out of the parking spot. However, he didn’t drive back to his hotel. Instead he drove down the coast, to the outskirts of town, to his beautiful house on the south side.
Inside, he wandered through the spacious house that was too lonely to call home and out onto the balcony that sat right on the water.
Then he called his dad.
“I’m just about to go into a business meeting,” William said in lieu of “hello.”
“I admit it. I’m in love with Bailey.”
Silence greeted him on the other end and then he heard his dad say to someone quietly, “Can we move that meeting to two o’clock? Apologize to them, tell them something came up.”
After a few more seconds of background noise, his dad’s voice came on the line. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never put myself into a situation I wasn’t ninety-nine percent sure I’d be able to control the outcome of.”
William grunted in amusement. “Well let this be your first.”
“What if I’m too late? I’ve fucked this up a lot. I’ve been immature. She doesn’t trust me and I don’t blame her. And what if she does end up saying she wants to give us a shot and it falls apart?”
“I can’t tell you whether it will or not. There’s no guarantee. But I’m guessing I’m getting this call because you know you can no longer put off what you feel for her.”
“No.” He couldn’t. It was driving him crazy. The torment he was feeling had to be worse than facing his fear of commitment, right? “Every time I try to stay away or stay out of her business, I end up in it. Because I put myself in it.” He grew quiet, slightly embarrassed. “I can’t help but want to protect her.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“She wants it all. Marriage. Kids.”
“And you don’t.”
“No, it’s not that . . . I just . . . I gave up on believing I’d have those things.”
“And now?”
“It would mean sacrifice, of my autonomy, some of my career . . . to give her those things.”
“But you’re willing to give her those things?”
Vaughn took a deep breath, saying the words that had been buried deep inside him for a long time. “I think I’d do anything to make her happy.”
He stopped when the piece of furniture dug into his legs. “I’m onto you.”
Ian smirked. “Really? You barge in here like a lunatic to deliver that cliché of a line.”
“If anyone is a cliché, Devlin, it’s you. It amazes me what you think you can get away with.”
“And what is it you think I’m trying to get away with?”
“You have one of your little lackies fucking Vanessa Hartwell.”
Nothing. No surprise. No disgust. No triumph. Nothing. Instead he shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about Jack using my hotel as a stage for his escort services. Because that’s what it is, right? You’re paying him to fuck Vanessa . . . to get to Bailey and her inn.”
“My, my, you have quite the imagination.”
Fury blasted through Vaughn and he slammed his fist down on the desk rather than into Devlin’s face. “I let that other piece of shit son get away with breaking into Bailey’s place, but I haven’t forgotten, and I haven’t forgiven. I swear to God”—he pushed his face into the old man’s—“you come after Bailey again and I will end you. I will end the lot of you.” His voice lowered with vitriol. “And don’t think I can’t do it. You are a big fish in a small pond. I’m a fucking shark in the ocean.”
For a moment Vaughn thought he saw uncertainty flicker in Devlin’s eyes, but if it was there, it was gone in an instant. Still sure he’d made his point, and sure that the message had sunk in, he turned on his heel to leave.
He’d just opened the door when Devlin’s smug voice stopped him.
“Not very smart.”
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction but not liking the threat in his tone, Vaughn looked back at him.
Ian was grinning. “Not very smart, Mr. Tremaine, is it, to unmask your vulnerabilities to someone you so clearly see as a threat. All this time I had to wonder, what is Vaughn Tremaine’s weakness? And what do you know? It’s a redhead with a smart mouth.”
The desire to punch him was so great, Vaughn felt his hand curling into a fist. Instead he threw him one last look of revulsion and stormed out of the building.
Back inside his car he let go of the breath he’d been holding in and slammed his hands down on his steering wheel. “Fuck!”
Exhausted and worried, Vaughn laid his head on the wheel and tried to will himself to calm down.
These past few weeks he’d been fighting with himself, knowing that he was in love with Bailey, but not knowing whether he could sacrifice his autonomy for her. But there really wasn’t anything to think about.
Not after he’d acted like a lunatic based on a split-second assumption he’d made. Vaughn had great instincts and he knew he was right about Jack. But driving over to threaten Devlin, revealing his weakness . . .
Ian Devlin was right. Bailey Hartwell was his Achilles’ heel.
On that thought he started the engine and pulled out of the parking spot. However, he didn’t drive back to his hotel. Instead he drove down the coast, to the outskirts of town, to his beautiful house on the south side.
Inside, he wandered through the spacious house that was too lonely to call home and out onto the balcony that sat right on the water.
Then he called his dad.
“I’m just about to go into a business meeting,” William said in lieu of “hello.”
“I admit it. I’m in love with Bailey.”
Silence greeted him on the other end and then he heard his dad say to someone quietly, “Can we move that meeting to two o’clock? Apologize to them, tell them something came up.”
After a few more seconds of background noise, his dad’s voice came on the line. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never put myself into a situation I wasn’t ninety-nine percent sure I’d be able to control the outcome of.”
William grunted in amusement. “Well let this be your first.”
“What if I’m too late? I’ve fucked this up a lot. I’ve been immature. She doesn’t trust me and I don’t blame her. And what if she does end up saying she wants to give us a shot and it falls apart?”
“I can’t tell you whether it will or not. There’s no guarantee. But I’m guessing I’m getting this call because you know you can no longer put off what you feel for her.”
“No.” He couldn’t. It was driving him crazy. The torment he was feeling had to be worse than facing his fear of commitment, right? “Every time I try to stay away or stay out of her business, I end up in it. Because I put myself in it.” He grew quiet, slightly embarrassed. “I can’t help but want to protect her.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“She wants it all. Marriage. Kids.”
“And you don’t.”
“No, it’s not that . . . I just . . . I gave up on believing I’d have those things.”
“And now?”
“It would mean sacrifice, of my autonomy, some of my career . . . to give her those things.”
“But you’re willing to give her those things?”
Vaughn took a deep breath, saying the words that had been buried deep inside him for a long time. “I think I’d do anything to make her happy.”
