Perfectly Broken (14 page)

He extended his hand to his son, though his dark brown eyes landed on Peyton. “Richard Langston,” he bellowed.

Peyton felt Reed’s fingers graze the small of her back and reached out her hand to Richard. “Peyton Mayfield.” She took a tiny step forward to look at the man’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Richard said, lifting her hand to his lips.

“Nice to meet you, too, sir.” She offered a polite smile but felt uncomfortably small, though Richard wasn’t any taller than his son.

“Mayfield?” Richard stroked his chin, searching the depths of his mind. “Any relation to George Mayfield?”

“My grandfather.”

“He and I rode in Bacchus together for years. He was a good man,” Richard said, touching Peyton’s shoulder. “I was sorry to hear about his death.”

Across the ballroom, Marion spotted a young blonde with brown eyes, dressed in a skin-tight red sequin dress. She quickly excused herself, but not before giving Peyton a kiss on the cheek and motioning to Reed whom she’d seen. “I’ll go distract her,” she whispered.

“How’s Adelaide?” Richard asked.

“She’s living over in Poydras Home now,” Peyton said. “But all and all, she’s doing well.”

“That’s a nice place, the best in the city.”

“Yes, sir. Only the best for Gram.”

“She used to bake the best pies,” Richard said.

“She taught me everything I know.”

“Oh, that’s right! Reed told his mother you own a little pie shop on Magazine.”

“Yes, Adelaide’s — named after my grandmother.”

“Marion and I will have to come over there,” Richard said. “She absolutely raves about some alcohol pie you have.”

“You look like a pecan pie man to me?”

Richard chuckled. “I haven’t had pie in a long time.” He touched his stomach. “Trying to keep in shape.”

Reed didn’t like where this was heading. He could tell his father was prying for information, and Peyton seemed to be falling for his charm. The last thing he wanted was for them to spend any more time together, let alone his father go to Peyton’s shop. “Dad, can I please talk to you about that
project
?” Then he turned to Peyton. “Baby, can you grab us something to drink? I’ll catch up with you.” Peyton offered both men a smile before heading towards the bar.

Richard watched her walk away. “She’s a pretty girl, Reed,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Not like you to bring a girl around your mother. You know she has you married to this girl and expecting twins already.”

“Mom likes Peyton,” Reed said with a shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Seems you more than just
like
her.”

“She’s special.”

“
Special
? There are a lot of special people in the world, Son. Kids with Down Syndrome are special. Isn’t that what they call those kids? Poor people are special. On second thought, are poor folks special, or are they called less fortunate?”

Reed looked away, wishing Peyton had seen this side of his father. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Look, special or not, the important thing is that you are with someone who understands our family — and who has her own wealth.”

“Peyton’s not hurting for money.”

“Would you like me to do a background check on her?”

“Jesus! Of course not!”

“You need to think about these things. She has a business, takes care of her house, has a grandmother in an expensive nursing home, and no family support. And she slings pies all day? Give me a break! You don’t think it’s occurred to her what kind of money you come from — what you stand to inherit.”

“No, Dad, I don’t think she thinks about any of that.”

“You are so much like your mother, a sentimental romantic. I don’t understand why you won’t settle down with someone who understands you — someone like Heather maybe. You two are a perfect fit — her family’s business and mine.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you again.”

Richard leaned in close. “You’ve been fucking her since you were a teenager. It’s time to get serious and marry her. You have obligations to this family.”

“You’re going to lecture me about family obligations?”

“Look, I can see why you like this Peyton. I’m not blind. Keep her on the side.”

Reed’s teeth gnashed together. “Are you really suggesting I marry Heather and screw Peyton on the side?”

“Sounds like a perfect arrangement to me.”

A sweet voice rescued Reed from behind. “Excuse me, Mr. Langston, but your son promised me a dance.” Peyton handed both men a drink.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Richard replied, his eyes softening, and thanked her for the drink. “Please save a dance for me, too.”

“I certainly will.”

“And please give my best to Adelaide.”

“Absolutely.” The man wasn’t at all what Peyton expected; sure, he was a flirt and charming like his son — and evidently had a taste for fooling around — but he hardly seemed a creep who’d bully homeless people.

Reed put down his drink then led her towards the dance floor, boiling mad. “Don’t think about dancing with him.”

Peyton slowed him down and wrapped her arms around him. “OK, I’ll just dance with you.” But she could tell he was in no mood. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No, let’s get out of here. We are way past 15 minutes.”

Peyton nodded, though suggested they first say “goodnight” to his mother. But Reed was in no mood for that, either. “Did something happen while I was at the bar?”

Reed didn’t answer. He didn’t want to get into what his father said. It was too horrible, embarrassing, insane — and yet also so typical. His father, as usual, ruined everything. Reed grabbed her hand and started for the exit, cutting a path through the crowd. But when the ballroom door came into view, he froze, seeing up ahead the young blonde with brown eyes in the skin-tight red sequin dress.

“What’s wrong now?”

“You’re right,” he said. “We should say ‘goodnight.’” Reed tried to turn around, but Peyton wouldn’t budge.

“What is going on? First we’re leaving, and now we’re staying?”

Reed felt his father’s eyes on him, probably smirking at his position, caught between two oncoming trains. “That girl who was calling on Valentine’s Day, remember?” Peyton nodded. “She’s here. Heather.” Reed pointed her out. “She’s the daughter of one of my father’s business partners.” Heather spotted Reed and gave a friendly wave.

“But you said you weren’t still seeing her,” Peyton said.

“I’m not.” Reed grabbed his neck. “But she was, well, a regular.”

“On the buffet?”

Reed nodded. “Can we try to slip out another door?”

Peyton saw Heather approach and took a few breaths to gather herself. “If I have to avoid every woman you’ve ever slept with, I may not be able to leave my house. I’m staying.” Then she faked a smile.

Heather kissed him on the cheek, using her thumb to wipe off her lipstick. “Reed, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he said, wiping his own cheek. “We were actually just heading out.”

He took a step to leave, but Heather put out her hand to Peyton. “I’m Heather.” Peyton shook her hand.

“This is my girlfriend, Peyton.” Reed exhaled.
This is going to happen, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Heather let out an evil grin. “Oh, you’re the girl occupying all of my man’s time.”

“Heather!” Reed barked, his tone a terse warning.

Peyton patted his forearm, an indication she was fine. “It’s nice to finally put a face with the name flashing on
my man’s
phone. I see him decline your calls all the time.”

Heather’s eyes widened. “I haven’t heard anything about you. What is it that you do?”

“I own my own business, a pie shop on Magazine.”

Reed appreciated Peyton’s tenacity, but it was making his stomach churn. It would do more harm than good. He wanted to leave, to escape to his place for the night. An altercation with Heather on the heels of his father’s bullshit was just too much. He took Peyton’s hand. “As I said, we were just leaving. It’s a little crowded in here.”

“Since when do you consider three a crowd? Your new friend could join us if you want.” Peyton let go of his hand.

Reed leaned in close to Heather. “Enough,” he whispered. “It’s not going to work.”

“You are so tense, baby.” Heather rubbed his hand. “We really ought to do something about that.”

Reed pulled away and flashed an embarrassed look to Peyton, who’d heard and seen enough. She didn’t like the thought of Reed in a threesome, and Heather was showing herself to be a complete bitch. And
that
trumped everything at the moment. “You don’t need to concern yourself with Reed’s needs any longer. I’ve got it covered.” Peyton smiled. “And you will never join
us
.”

Heather laughed. “I seriously doubt a girl like you can satisfy him. He has quite an appetite — like father, like son.”

Peyton saw Reed wince. She didn’t have all the details about him and his father, but she wasn’t about to let Heather hit him where it hurt. “Look, Heather, let me make myself very clear here. I know you and Reed screwed each other, and I don’t care. The reason I don’t care is because he’s with me now. So obviously you weren’t woman enough for him.”

Reed rolled his eyes, wishing he was anywhere else. Angola Prison would be better.

“Listen here, bitch....” Heather started.

Peyton smiled. “Oh, now we’re going
there
? You are one classy girl.” She grabbed Reed’s arm and calmly walked past Heather and out of the ballroom.

Reed looked back at Heather, her mouth wide open. He smiled to himself, impressed with his smart-mouthed beauty, then looked at Peyton with pride. But she wasn’t smiling. He saw her bottom lip was quivering. He kissed the side of her head, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Peyton increased her pace, her calm walk becoming a slow jog, hoping more speed would keep more tears inside.

Reed matched her stride. “I’m sorry about all that. Let’s just head back to my place.”

“I’ll just take a cab home,” she said, twisting through the revolving doors onto Canal Street dodging throngs of people with drinks in their hands and beads around their necks.

Reed caught her hand on the sidewalk. “Just wait a second. I’ll call the limo.” He pulled out his phone.

“No!” Peyton said quickly. “I have to get out of here.” She held up her hand for a cab.

Reed gave quick instructions to the limo driver and hung up just in time to catch Peyton by the waist before a cab pulled over. “You aren’t running away from me.” Reed motioned for the cab to move along.

Peyton wiggled away. “Please let me go!”

“I don’t know much about relationships, but I know they can’t work if one person leaves.”

She released a deep breath and pulled away from him. “Please, I need some time alone.” It was one thing to know about his past but quite another to shake hands with it, talk to it, fight with it.

“Can we please talk about this?” Reed begged, searching her eyes. But he saw nothing.

The limo pulled up to the curb. “I just need some space,” she said and opened the door.

Reed walked to the driver to give him further instructions. Then he heard the door close, seeing Peyton disappear without even saying “goodnight.” He finished with the driver and watched the limo drive off, carrying both Peyton and his heart.

* * *

Peyton kicked off her shoes and curled into a little ball, hugging her knees to her chest in the back of the limo. The drive home from the hotel, though only a few miles, seemed to be taking forever, lots of starts and stops on a busy Mardi Gras night. But the delay was fine with her. It gave her more time to cry, more time for everything to crystallize in her mind. It was painfully obvious she could never have a relationship with Reed. She was too damaged, too broken. Heather was right: there was no way she could ever satisfy him. She could never be enough for him. Her tears were proof of it.

She was scared enough of a traditional sexual relationship, and Reed undoubtedly would want more than that.
Threesomes?
She cringed at the thought of Heather touching him — with some random girl, too — and hated her for it. The way Heather looked at Reed, the way she touched him, the way she still called him hers — it all made Peyton sick. She wondered whether she hated all of his past women. She wasn’t one to hate too many people, and that would be a lot of women to hate.

There was just something about Heather. Maybe it was that Heather could give Reed all the things that Peyton didn’t think she could, and she feared Reed eventually would revert back to that kind of girl. Or maybe it was just that she was a raging bitch. Peyton didn’t know for sure. It hurt her head to think about it. She closed her eyes tightly, tears flowing like a river, then looked down at her white dress covered in streaks of black mascara. The night had made her dirty.

Then the limo stopped again. She looked out the window at the revelers filling the streets, disbanding after a late night parade. She was tired of being trapped — in the limo, in her life, in a state of inertia and sadness — with others having fun all around her. She wanted to get home, to take a shower, to wash away the night — and her past — knowing full well she’d never get clean. Too much had happened over too many years.

At last, the limo pulled up in front of her house. She opened the door herself and walked around to find a Range Rover in the driveway.
What the hell?
She looked towards her front door, finding Reed sitting on her porch steps, his head resting in his hands. She walked cautiously towards him, the fog of Heather still clouding her mind, leaving her unsure whether to feel mad, angry, relief, upset, inadequate, broken — or whether there was even a proper emotion. He lifted his head as she drew closer, and the moonlight caught his eyes.

“How did you....” she started.

“I told the driver to take his time. I wanted to give you space like you asked, but I couldn’t end the night like that.” He shook his head. “Not that way.”

She looked down at him, his jacket gone, his tie loose around his neck, his hair messier than usual. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said quietly and took a seat beside him. “We need to talk.”