Authors: Skye Jordan
A dark, heavy sensation grew in the pit of her stomach. “That would be because the house isn’t up for sale. Your office obviously made a mistake. Maybe you have the wrong Rubi Russo. Where did you get this number?”
“It was listed as belonging to the resident.” His growing frustration oozed from his voice. “Do you live at 961 Wildflower Terrace?”
“Yes, but-”
“And is the owner of the house Mr. Rudolpho Russo?”
Fuck.
Her stomach sank.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Anger roiled beneath the shock.
That bastard.
“Ms. Russo?” Klein prodded.
“Yes,” she bit out. “But the house is not on the market.”
“Did you miss the gigantic lock box on the front door?” Klein’s voice denounced Rubi’s ignorance and rose incrementally with each question.
“I don’t use the front door, Mr. Klein, I use the kitchen door. And last time I checked, I couldn’t read minds. Since I was not informed, that would make you and your clients SOL.”
“Look,” he huffed the word, “I don’t want to argue with you. I’d simply like to show the house. Can you please open the front door or tell me how to get in?”
“Um…no.” She hoped her own you fucking idiot tone came through loud and clear, then reminded herself not to shoot the messenger-even if he was a pompous ass. “Until someone of authority tells me directly the house is on the market, the door remains locked.”
Rubi disconnected the call and stared at the phone. Billows and billows of anger pluming inside her body, raising her temperature, quickening her heart. Everyone at the table must have recognized her fury, because no one said anything for a heavy, extended moment.
“That thoughtless, selfish, greedy bastard.” She ground out the barely audible words from between clenched teeth.
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Lexi offered, but her unsettled voice gave her away.
Lexi knew what a fucker Dolph was. She’d warned Rubi about living in the house. And knew how often Dolph sliced Rubi every time she held out a reconciling hand-even though she had nothing to reconcile for-other than being born.
Lexi didn’t deserve Rubi’s ire, but the emotions were slipping out of her control. “You damn well know this is not a mistake.”
Lexi’s lips twisted. “Probably not.”
“What’s”-Wes’s tentative voice tugged at her-“going on?”
Rubi’s eyes slid closed, humiliation layering fury…and betrayal…and self-denigration. Her solid world fell away from beneath her feet as if Dolph had opened a trapdoor. Again. Her emotions were hot. Black. Ugly.
She dialed her father’s office, her jaw clenching so hard her teeth hurt. No one at the table said anything as the phone rang in her ear. She could feel three sets of concerned and confused eyes on her, which only infused shame.
“I’m sorry.” She stood, trying not to register the worry. “Go ahead and eat.”
Wandering toward the edge of the pool deck, she waited, her mind pinging and spinning.
“Russo Industries, Dolph Russo’s office,” his secretary answered. A new secretary by the unfamiliar sound of her voice, and the fact that she was still there at nearly ten o’clock at night. Dolph went through secretaries like water. “How may I help you?”
“This is Rubi Russo, Dolph’s unfortunate offspring. Put him on the line, please.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Russo, he’s on a conference call. I can-”
“You can,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut to hold her temper and the burgeoning hurt, “tell the self-centered bastard to put the conference call on hold and talk to his daughter. This is an emergency.”
“Uh…please hold, Ms. Russo.”
The deeper the news sank, the angrier she grew.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Russo,” the secretary came back on the line. “He isn’t able to speak with you right now.”
That fucker. “Did you tell him it was an emergency?”
“Yes, ma’am, I-”
“Tell him I’m in the hospital, dying.” Rubi was done. So fucking done with this man. She didn’t need this shit in her life. “Go on. Tell him.”
“Uh…hold on, please.”
She wished she was holding a regular phone. One she could slam down to disconnect. That was one major drawback to cell phones.
The line picked up again with a hesitant, “Ms. Russo? I’m so sorry. Is there something I can do for you? Your father can’t come to the phone.”
Her anger intensified until she couldn’t speak.
“Ms. Russo?”
She scraped in air. “Yes,” she rasped. “You can quit before he ruins your existence.”
Rubi stabbed the End button and stood there, one hand gripping the railing, one her phone. And for the millionth time in her life, a sense of complete, primal betrayal filled her.
“Hey.” Wes’s soft voice behind her made her squeeze her eyes closed.
“Sorry about that.” She turned but couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead she focused on the supple muscle of his pecs. “I have to go.”
“Where?”
“I have to straighten this out with Dolph.” She started past Wes toward the table. “I’m sorry,” she said again to everyone. “I didn’t mean to ruin dinner.”
Rubi picked up her purse. “Come on, Rodie.”
Rodie climbed to his feet where he lay beside Wes’s chair and trotted to her.
“Where are you going?” Lexi asked.
“His office. He can’t ignore me if I yank that phone from his hand and brain him with it.”“I’ll drive you.” Wes grabbed his T-shirt off the table.
“No.” No no no. He’d already witnessed enough of her bad side. A bad side he now knew was multifaceted. “Thank you, but no. That kind of exposure would tarnish all your shine.”
“You’re not driving this angry.” Wes’s statement was final, forceful. The demand rankled, and she shot him a glare. “I’ll drive you,” he repeated with a look so serious she knew she’d have a battle on her hands to get out of there alone. And she just didn’t have the energy. She needed to save it all for Dolph.
“Take my car,” Lexi told Wes. “Keys are on the kitchen counter. And grab something of mine from the dresser in the bedroom. Leave Rodie. He’ll be fine here.”
“You know I appreciate you guys, but this is my mess-”
Wes grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
She grumbled a, “Fine,” and changed into a pair of Lexi’s jeans and a long-sleeved V-necked shirt while Wes waited downstairs. When she met him at the front door, he’d pulled on jeans as well.
He stayed silent through the first ten minutes of the drive, which gave her time to get herself together after the jolt. Wes was either as patient as a saint or scared to ask her anything lest she bite off his head. But the longer Rubi had to think about Dolph’s latest betrayal, the further into her shell she curled. The more she second-guessed having men in her life at all. And after witnessing the mess she and Dolph called a relationship, Wes’s interest in her might just flatline, eliminating the problem of their developing relationship all together.
“I’ve never seen you angry.” Wes’s voice finally pierced the hum of road noise in a thoughtful, relaxed tone.
“Not pretty, right?”
“Oh, you’re always pretty. Just not exactly…your style. I mean, you’ve always been composed to the point of self-possession. Self-confident but flippant and easygoing. Which”-his voice dropped-“is one reason I think I enjoy watching you come apart with me.”
His sexual reference flooded her pelvis with heat, temporarily distracting her.
“Sure you’re not overreacting?” he asked.
A barb of annoyance prickled inside her. She didn’t need that pointed out. “Really? A real estate agent appears at my door at nine o’clock on a weekday night to show a house I didn’t know was for sale? A house I’ve offered to buy-from my father no less-and been ignored? I don’t know, Wes, am I overreacting?”
“I didn’t know you’d offered to buy it, but…maybe. A little.”
Traffic on the 405 was light tonight, and Wes kept Lexi’s car at the speed limit, probably to give Rubi a chance to change her mind. Wouldn’t happen. She was calling that fucker on his blatant disregard. It might mean nothing to Dolph, but it meant something to Rubi. Confronting him was important for Rubi to do for herself.
“Maybe you should talk about it before we get there,” Wes suggested in his even tone. “You know…decompress a little.”
“This has been building for twenty-five years,” Rubi said, simmering with something that had developed into complete disgust. Occasionally bordering pure hatred-like now. “I won’t decompress in ten minutes.”
“Okay. What about giving me a little background so I know what we’re walking into.”
“It would be better if you stayed in the car.” She wasn’t trying to be bitchy, but she really worked better on her own. All this “help” only made her second-guess herself. Only made her more insecure.
“And let you strangle him with your bare hands?” he asked. “Sorry, baby, I wouldn’t survive living without you for fifteen to life.”
A huff of laughter escaped her throat, but no humor resided there. Only irony. And a twist of discomfort at his insinuation that he needed her. Or that they’d be together for the long-term. She couldn’t go there now. She was way too messed up to think about what she had going with Wes.
Rubi laid her head back on the seat and kept her gaze out the window. She hated admitting it, but she did feel better having Wes with her. Stronger. Safer. More grounded. More rational. Which was how she usually felt with Lexi’s support. And the fact that Wes had become an influence similar to Lexi in just two months… That really tweaked her. She’d never been good at depending on others. Had always felt safest operating under her own control. Depending on only herself.
Then when people left, she wasn’t stranded-emotionally or physically.
So much betrayal lay between Rubi and Dolph, she couldn’t even begin to describe the damage to their relationship. Or, she realized-maybe for the first time with any clarity-fix the damn thing.
“I’ve offered to buy the house,” she said. “He’s always brushed me off. And before you ask, yes, I offered him market price. I never expected any favors.”
“Why didn’t he sell it to you?”
“Anything related to money is a game for him. He’d never tell me why, just refused. Or ignored. He’s excellent at pretending I don’t exist.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Wes said, “but I’m curious. What is market value?”
“Last time I offered-about three months ago-fourteen million.”
Wes whistled softly through his teeth. “That’s some big cash. I knew you made good money, like really good money, but I didn’t realize… I don’t know if I can afford all the work you’ve already done on the rig.” He hummed, the sound worried and melodramatic. “I may have to pay it back in favors.”
That made a smile lift her mouth. She knew what kind of favors he had in mind. But she was too disjointed to banter with him. “I told you, I’m charging you Jax’s rate.”
“Yeah, but we never discussed what Jax’s rate is.”
“I never let Jax pay for anything.”
She rested her elbow on the door handle and rubbed her forehead. The futility of going to Dolph’s office was sinking in. She’d never get a real answer from him. She’d never be able to instill the concept of personal violation or common human decency he should have employed in this situation. She knew-knew-none of that worked with Dolph. Hadn’t worked for decades. Yet, she needed to go. Needed, one more time, to see his in-your-face disinterest firsthand.
No matter how badly the little girl inside her wanted to believe that one day Dolph would wake up and realize his mistake of alienating his only child, the adult in her knew it wouldn’t happen. Ever. She’d been needing to let go of the irrational hope for years.
This was the last straw for Rubi. She loved that house. He knew it. And he couldn’t have cared less.
Today was the day.
“You have to know that won’t fly with me,” Wes said. “You have to know I’m going to pay you for your time.”
“Wes, please don’t start that now. I’m not going to argue over something so ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous. You’ve put off other work to-”
“Fine.” Irritation burned across her nerves. “Fine, Wes, pay me. I’m not going to argue with you.” Bitterness saturated her words and guilt flooded her chest. She covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. God, I’m not mad at you.”
He parked in front of the building, turned off the engine, clicked his seat belt free, and reached across the console between them. Rubi planted a hand against his chest before he could pull her into his arms. “Don’t make me go all soft right before I have to be tough.”
A slow grin turned his mouth, and one hand brushed hair off her face. “I can make you go all soft? Really?”
“Would you stop?” She pushed him away. “I don’t even know why I’m here anymore.”
Jerking the door open, she stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Because that dick made you waste a perfect strawberry shortcake, that’s why.”
Wes fell into step beside her as she started toward the massive glass front doors. A security guard sat behind a desk in the lobby, the building’s lights still burning down on him. Rubi recognized the man’s long thin face beneath the brim of a navy baseball cap with the word SECURITY across the front.
Frank glanced up, his face weary-until he recognized her. Then he broke into a surprised smile that shot pleasure through her and stood quickly, his movements still fluid for his age.
“Well, looky here.” He came out from around the desk, arms open and immediately enveloped Rubi in a hug. That spark of pleasure expanded as she wrapped her arms around the older man’s middle and pressed her cheek against his chest, eyes closed. This was how a father should react. This was how she should feel about a father. Yet this man was no more her blood than Wes.
“Rubi, darlin’.” His Southern accent was still thick. “So good to see you.”
“You too, Frank.” When she pulled back and smiled up at him, she suddenly felt tired. Like her soul had been bruised. “How are you? How’s Lucy?”
“I’m great. Lucy’s better.” He slid his hands down her arms. “Just finished her second round of chemo and lives in the wigs you two picked out for her. She loves them.”
“I knew she’d pull through. She’s a fighter.”
“Like someone else I know.” His light blue eyes had clouded over in the years since she’d seen him, but they still flickered with humor and warmth.