CONFESSIONS
Beth was floored. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to be, either. In the years that she had known Juliet, she had never seen her in such a state and her concern for her grew steadily by the second. She wanted to feel sorry for Eric--the poor man looked so helpless. And had she known that anything that bad had happened between them, she'd have never scheduled the meeting. She should have known better than to spring this on Juliet like that.
As she walked Eric across the open lobby area and toward the elevator, she tried to save face. "Eric, I had no idea--"
His face was the picture of dejection and stress. "You don't have to say anything."
"Look, I don't know what happened--"
"I did something stupid," he shot off. "A real idiot move. I can't believe--"
"You shouldn't have lied about the note," she replied, her voice gentle but firm.
"I did leave a note!" He whispered loudly.
"Eric, that woman is my best friend. She's like my sister. And I have never seen her act like that in all the years I've known her. I'm scared and I'm concerned. What did you do to her? Be honest."
"I cared about her," he spat, his eyes dark with rage. "That's what I did. And I understand that she has issues, but she needs to get over herself long enough to let me prove to her that I'm not gonna beat up on her like her husband did!"
Beth was taken aback by his comments and now she was more confused than ever before. "Husband?" She asked, shaking her head. "What husband? Juliet's never been married..."
"Shit," Eric muttered under his breath. "Look, forget I ever said anything--"
"No," she said suddenly, desperate for any sort of logic and explanation. "This is--this is all getting out of control. What are you talking about?"
"It's really not my place to say," he replied, is voice softening. "It sounds like the two of you have things to talk about. I'm gonna make myself scarce. I'm, uh, I'm sorry that I wasted your time--and hers. Good luck to your company in the future, okay?"
"Eric, wait!"
But he was gone. And Beth was left standing alone in a devastating mess.
Her hands shook as she stood there and let his voice ring loud in her ears. 'I'm not gonna beat up on her like her husband did.' She swallowed the lump in her throat that formed the very moment his words hit her. Husband? Juliet had been married? Why hadn't Beth known this?
Hesitantly, she made her way back to Juliet's office. For the first time since she'd met her, she had no idea what to expect when she opened the door. She had no idea how to approach her--she didn't even know if she really knew who she was. It was almost as if Juliet were a stranger all of a sudden.
Slowly and carefully, she opened the door to Juliet's office without knocking. Closing it gently behind her, she locked the door, and she witnessed her best friend as she hid her face in her hands. She stood and she looked at her for a moment, unsure of where to start. It was surreal, watching Juliet break down. She was the strongest person Beth knew, she always had been. Juliet never showed sadness or sorrow or any amount of self-pity. Juliet took no prisoners. But right now? She looked like a prisoner, herself.
"Jules," Beth finally whispered. "I think we need to talk."
It took a moment before Juliet finally lifted her head and showed Beth her tear-streaked face. Beth's heart broke in an instant. Juliet shook her head, her lip quivering. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Beth glanced at the white, leather couch that sat near Juliet's desk and she headed for it. "Come sit by me," she said gently.
"You're going to hate me," Juliet whispered.
"No, I won't."
"Yes," Juliet nodded. "You will."
"Come on." Beth patted the cushion beside her and nodded Juliet over.
Juliet didn't look like the sophisticated thirty-something that Beth had grown to know and love. She looked like a child--a scared child--that was about to be punished. Where had everything gone out into left field like this? With Eric Reynolds?
When Juliet took her seat, Beth took her by the hand and placed it between both of hers. "Jules," she said softly. "I need you to tell me everything that happened after I left your apartment Saturday night."
Juliet only blinked at her. She was stalling. She watched her body tense up and her hands started to shake. Beth squeezed the one hand tighter in hers. "Jules," she urged.
"I'm so ashamed of myself," Juliet whispered.
"What happened?"
"I gave in," she replied nervously. "To him, I--I gave in to him. I never give in, Beth. Never. And for good reason. But this time, I--I just couldn't help myself, it was like I didn't even know who I was. And I'm so ashamed of myself for it."
"What happened?" Beth repeated gently.
"He, um, he came into my bedroom. And...and I let him kiss me--on the lips. And then--and then we talked. And we laughed." The corners of her mouth turned up shakily through her tears. "And then I had a panic attack."
"Oh, sweetie," Beth whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind Juliet's ear.
Juliet took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "I had a panic attack because the memories started coming back. Out of nowhere. I let him lay me on my back and I freaked out. Beth, I--I lied to you. I'm so ashamed of myself, I should have never kept anything from you. Please. Please don't hate me."
"Tell me."
"Please don't leave me," Juliet's voice creaked out as fresh tears filled her eyes. "I need you. I don't want you to hate me and I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I--I never meant to hurt you--"
"Tell me," Beth pressed.
And then Juliet poured her heart out. She poured it out through tears, through gasps of breath, through obscene amounts of time. So many things--so many stories, so many memories, so much pain. So many nightmares and horrors. Beth's mouth hung open for the majority of the time. Her heart pounded and she wiped away her own tears. How could people do these things to other people like this? To children? To innocent young women who didn't know any better? All Juliet had wanted was a life and a future and a happy home. It was no wonder she ran away to New York. It was no wonder...
It dawned on Beth that the reality was, Juliet had never really said much about her past beyond being from Kentucky. She'd claimed she came from a small family and she always had something to say when Beth asked why she wasn't going home for the holidays or why her small family never came to visit. Now she realized that Juliet had been too ashamed to tell her the truth--Juliet didn't have a family. She had never had a family. She had never known what it felt like to be safe in her mother's arms or feel the warmth of her father's smile. She never knew family gatherings, she didn't have anything to reminisce about, she never knew what it felt like to belong anywhere. Beth was literally all she had--and now she understood why Juliet never got close to anyone.
As Juliet spoke, Beth began to appreciate her own family a little more. She was grateful. Her family loved Juliet and Juliet always smiled when Beth brought her home. Beth's family was in Queens. Beth came from middle-class parents, who were still married, and had given her two younger sisters that she doted on and adored. She'd gotten through college on scholarships and had dreamed of nothing but architecture since the Christmas she received her first dollhouse that her father had built with his own hands. From then on, she was obsessed with buildings and design and planned her future very early on, with continued support from her family every single step of the way. Juliet never knew what it was like to be supported until she moved to New York. She barely even had a future back then.
"I'm so sorry," Juliet said again, wiping her face with her hand. "Beth, I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to lie to you, I just--I never wanted to remember. I just wanted to forget. I wanted to start new, where nobody knew me and I could be whoever I wanted. I didn't want my past to be a stigma or a crutch or some sob story. I don't--Beth, I don't even deserve to be where I am right now."
"Nonsense," Beth whispered through her tears. "You deserve every bit of success that you've earned--"
"No," Juliet shook her head. "I don't. I don't even have a high school diploma."
Now Beth's eyes widened in surprise and she blinked at Juliet. "Are you serious?"
Juliet nodded, sniffing her tears away. "Yeah. I dropped out, I--Beth, all I do here is draw pictures. I don't know shit about architecture. I shouldn't own this company, I shouldn't run anything--my name shouldn't even be on it, my entire life is a lie."
"No. Jules, it isn't. Look, you--you fought and you scratched your way to get to where you are today. Both of us have. It wasn't easy, none of it was handed to us. But we both earned it, fair and square. We worked hard for it, especially you. So what if you don't know shit about the specifics of architecture? That's what you have me for. But running a successful business also requires drive and passion and a love for what you do. It requires dedication and belief in yourself and your company--and you have all of that, Jules. Nobody can take that away from you. And nobody wants to. You're the heart of this company. Okay? You run this, this is your baby. All I do is the busy work. And I love the busy work. The way we run things now--I wouldn't have it any other way. I like it this way. You are here because you deserve to be. You earned it. You got that?"
"I can't do it without you," she whispered. "I can't do anything without you. Beth, I--I don't even think I know who I am anymore..."
"Tell me about Eric," Beth said suddenly.
At this, Juliet's entire demeanor changed and her body stiffened, her face stone cold. "I don't want to talk about Eric."
"You can't do this, Jules. You can't keep things bottled up like this. Have you--have you ever even spoken to anyone? About anything?"
Juliet shook her head. "No. I told you, I don't want to remember."
"Jules," Beth shook her head back at her. "You can't do that. Jesus, no wonder you're a basket case. You can not carry these things around with you like that."
"I've already talked about it two times too many--"
"Well. Then. Talk to me. Talk to me until you're ready to get real help--"
"I don't need help. I'm over it, I got over it a long time ago."
"Yeah?" Beth challenged. "Is that why you're an emotional, hot mess right now? Huh?"
Juliet sighed in response.
"Tell me about Eric. What is it about him that caused you to just...spill your heart out all of a sudden? Do you realize how big a deal that is? You're the biggest man-hater I know and you managed to give it all to him in one entire night. Why?"
"I don't know," Juliet said softly. "I don't--I don't want to talk about it."
"You care about him."
"I don't care about him, I hardly know him," Juliet spat, her eyes hard. "Why the hell would I care about him, you heard what he did to me. He's a liar. Just like all the others."
"But he's not like all the others, is he? You don't really believe that."
"Has Manuel been giving you psychology lessons or something?"
"No," Beth smiled. "It felt like the Fourth of July when I stepped into this office. The heat almost burned me."
"I hate him," Juliet finally revealed in an uncertain whisper. "I hate him because he makes me feel things. He's made me feel things since--Beth, I don't want to feel things. The last time I felt things--"
"He's not him, sweetie. Not all men are him."
"Yes, they are--"
"No. They aren't. Eric Reynolds worships the ground you walk on, Juliet. I mean, he hasn't come right out and said it, but it's so obvious. He's a kind, strong, handsome man, and honestly, I think the only thing he really wants to do is hold your hand and kiss you goodnight. He seems like he's really romantic like that."
"He's twenty-seven," Juliet blurted.
Beth's eyes widened in surprise and she blinked her eyes at her. "Twenty-seven? Really? Damn..." If Eric was twenty-seven, then that made Travis twenty-seven. Three years younger than Beth. At thirty, this almost made her feel like a cougar of sorts. She had to admit, that was kind of hot.
But anyway. Back to Juliet.
"That's how it starts, you know," Juliet said quietly. "They're handsome and they're charming and they're innocent...they reel you in, make you trust them. And then...they own you. Just like that. They're all the same."
"Juliet, that's not--"
"It is true," she cut her off. Juliet had hardened again. Bottled up her emotions, her expression stone cold with a voice to match. "Even Chris thought he was going to come in that night and get his way. Never, Beth. Never."
Beth looked at her best friend with sorrow and regret. She didn't want to pity her and Juliet didn't want her to. But she'd been done such a disservice in life and she hated that her own happiness had to suffer for it. There were men out there--good men--that didn't abuse women, who were compassionate and caring. And despite his apparent, shotty decision-making skills, Eric Reynolds appeared to be one of them. Juliet deserved a chance at happiness. It was her time now. And Beth didn't think that Eric would be a bad place to start.
"Juliet," Beth said, placing a comforting hand on knee and lowering her head to catch her eye. "Listen to me. Okay? Why don't you--I mean, for once, just--hear Eric out? He did something stupid, it's just--it's just what men do. But it was probably some little misunderstanding--"
"No," Juliet said harshly, glaring at Beth. "It was no misunderstanding. He couldn't stand the heat, so he got out of the kitchen. He's a coward. And he's a liar. I don't have time for either one of those things."
"He's really insistent on that note--"
"It's the twenty-first fucking century, Beth! Who in the hell leaves a note? There was no note. It's been three days. There is no note. There never was. He is a coward and a liar. He is not the man I knew Saturday night."
Juliet's face began to turn red again and her nostrils flared as her eyes began to glisten. There it was, Beth thought. Her feelings hadn't completely left her. "Who was he Saturday night?" She asked softly.
Juliet's lip trembled in helpless emotion. "He was everything a woman wants in a man," she whispered. "He was everything."
With this, she fell victim to another violent onset of tears and collapsed into Beth's arms. As Beth stroked her hair and held her close, she began to have a battle with herself. Part of her wanted to march straight to Travis and tell him to tell his brother that he was a complete fuckup and he needed to find a way make things right. The other part of her knew this wasn't her battle to fight. And, as it stood, there was no battle. There was no Eric Reynolds and there was no Reynolds Construction. There was nothing. And, as per the norm, it was exactly how Juliet preferred it.
______________________________________________________________________________
"Fuck!" Eric cursed himself when he closed himself inside his silver Ford Atlas. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" As he cursed himself, his steering wheel took a beating before he collapsed his forehead into it for a moment to attempt to collect himself.
What in the hell had just happened? This was fucking insane. He shouldn't have written the note. He shouldn't have checked his fucking phone, he should have just let Travis rot, at least for a few more hours. He would have been perfectly fine.
But, no. Because as soon as he listened to the voicemail, the very first thing that ran through his head was what always got the best of him: "Dad will kill me." Especially if Travis had gotten himself into any deeper trouble. Somehow, all of this would be Eric's fault. It always was.
Eric hated himself. He'd never felt so much disdain for himself in his entire life. He hadn't felt this low even when he'd walked in on his ex and the maintenance man. It was worse because, now that he thought about it, every single word Juliet had said had been right--from her point of view. She didn't know any better. She couldn't. But that didn't give her any excuse to stand there and belittle and berate him and pass judgment without letting him get so much as a single word in in defense of himself. That wasn't fair and, for that, she still owed him.
And then there was the company. Everyone was literally waiting in anticipation for the results of this meeting and there hadn't even been one. Was he really that stupid? Was hindsight really that cruel to him? Had he not gotten the hint Sunday and Monday when he hadn't gotten so much as a "K" in a text message? And he seriously thought that he was going to walk into her office and land a contract? He should have been smarter, he should have sent Walt. Or hell, even Travis. Travis owed Eric so much right now, he couldn't even begin to pay reparations. Travis had been on his shit list since Sunday morning, anyway. This morning, he'd just soared to number one.
Juliet's face. Eric squeezed his eyes shut to get rid of the memory of her face. And her eyes. It was almost as if he had killed her parents. The hurt and the disappointment and the blatant betrayal that was written all over her face upon sight of him punched him in the gut and he'd wanted to be sick. Every word to him was a blow, either to the chest or the gut or the throat, one right after the other.
He should never have left Sunday morning.
After what was a more difficult drive back to the office than it should have been, Eric took a deep breath before walking into Reynolds Construction headquarters. Expectant eyes followed him as he silently walked to his office, but that didn't stop an overzealous Kim from leaving her post and trotting behind him, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. "Mr. Reynolds," she said, trying to get his attention. "Mr. Reynolds, you have--"
But it was too late. He opened his office door to find his father sitting behind his old desk and his Uncle Walt in his usual chair across from it.
"--company," Kim finished quietly, still behind him. "Um, I'll, um, just be getting back to my desk now."
When it rained, it didn't just pour. It came down in torrents.
***************
Carl Reynolds was an intimidating man. All of the Reynolds men were tall, with Carl standing at a towering six feet and three inches. His hair was the colors of salt and pepper and his eyes were hard and blue. Carl Reynolds had always been a man who knew what he wanted and knew how to get it and never passed up an opportunity to further himself. This made him a success and Eric had to admire that about his father. In fact, Eric had always wanted to be like his father, despite the way he seemingly treated Eric as an afterthought. Eric always tried to tell himself that his father was so rough on him because he wanted him to succeed. The truth, Eric feared, was that his father's only concern was the state of his company and that he had serious doubts that Eric could keep it going. That was why he had Walt waiting in the wings.
When it wasn't work-related, however, Carl Reynolds was a completely different person. Growing up, he'd been an excellent father to the three boys and he raised them with the ideal childhood. He was involved in their activities, made sure to spend quality time with them, and taught them life essentials. Even now, his father was great to have a beer with when they weren't talking about the company.
Unfortunately, though, the older Eric got, the more and more the company seemed to interfere with quality family time.
The only reason Carl had chosen to retire was because Eric's mother, Libby, had finally pressured him into it. If it was left completely up to his father, he would have worked for the rest of his life. Eric knew deep down that his father was pleased with his decision--and he could even understand his apprehension about leaving his life's work in someone else's hands, no matter the relation--but the way he went about it could have been much better-executed.
Carl Reynolds was a military man. Spent six years in the army before he got out and decided to go into construction. Now his oldest son, Andy, made a career out of the military, so recruiting him into the family business was automatically off the table. Andy was someone Carl could be proud of.
And then there was Travis, the ultimate family let-down. With Travis's genius-level IQ, he was pretty much allowed run wild and do what he wanted to. "Maybe if you got the grades that he did, you'd be allowed the same privileges," Eric's father had said to him. But his father never saw the work Eric put into his grades, which weren't that bad. He never saw the hours of studying, the sleepless nights, or the lunch breaks he spent at school getting special tutoring lessons. Eric worked hard and Travis never even had to try. Yet, even after screwing up college and spending his years surfing the beaches of Malibu, bumming off the sand, Carl was still practically salivating at the bit to get Travis into his desk chair. "He's got the smarts," Carl had said. "He's got what it takes to run the business."
The irony of it was, Eric was the only one in the family stupid enough to actually want the company. He spent his summers working on the construction crew and he absolutely loved it. In college, he majored in accounting and minored in business and, after college, his father made him the production manager of the company. Eric was ecstatic, he thought this was it. This was the moment that his father could finally see his potential, he could finally see that Eric loved what he did and he was good at it. But then when Carl turned the other cheek and brought Travis back home to New York, it was like a complete slap in the face. When a pissed off Travis told their father where he could shove the position, Eric ended up with it by default and Travis was given the sink or swim ultimatum. And, now, Eric's life was ruined piece by piece, bit by bit, all since Sunday morning, by the three evils he should have long seen coming: a woman, his father, and his brother.
Eric just wanted to disappear.
"Son," his father greeted him with a smile. "You're early for the celebration!"
"What celebration?"
"The Carson account, son! I came for the victory party! Gotta say, didn't expect you so soon..."
Shit. Eric knew there was an ulterior motive here. His father wasn't there for any kind of party. He suspected that Eric couldn't close the deal. And damn it, he was right.
"Well, Dad," Eric replied with a stress-filled, deep breath. "That's because the meeting...didn't really go anywhere."
Carl's face hardened, but he didn't show surprise, which cut Eric pretty deep. "Is that so? So, let me...see if I have my information correct. You are provided with...at least two opportunities to speak directly to the owner of this company--and blow both of them. Then you somehow manage to land a meeting, and you still can't close the deal. Jesus, Eric, she's a woman. Business or not, they're all the same. Bat your pretty eyelashes at her, tell her her dress looks nice, and sign the god damned dotted line."
Suddenly, Eric's self-pity turned into pure disgust. "Are you serious? Are you--? This is unbelievable. First of all, she's not that kind of woman. And most important, that logic is a load of shit! And completely unprofessional, at that."
"And, yet, I could turn a profit," Carl replied, sitting back comfortably in the desk chair. "How about that?"
Eric fumed, his mind drawing a momentary blank. He couldn't tell his father what really happened with Juliet. If he found out the real reason he blew the deal, his father would send him packing as sure as the sky was blue. Then something Kim had said yesterday suddenly rang in his ears. 'Miss Carson was a little put off by the fact that we don't have a website...'
It was a cheap shot, but at least it was partially true.
"You know why I couldn't close the deal, Dad? The real reason why I couldn't close it?"
"By all means," Carl patronized.
"Because this company is a dinosaur."
His father blinked at him in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I couldn't close the deal because we don't have a website. A website, Dad! A fucking website."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You lied better than that when you used to cover for your brother," Carl spat.
"Not a lie," Eric shot back, his eyebrows raised with objection. "Carson Innovations prides itself on being on the very forefront of technology. In this day and age, especially in this city, it's sink or swim. You have to be on the forefront of technology or else you're just gonna sink. That's how it is."
"That's ridiculous. This company was built around good, honest, solid hard work with the best of references. We're still one of the preferred construction companies around here, or else we wouldn't have crews all over the place right now!"
"In 1994, that was fantastic! Now, if you don't have easy access to a company's information, potential clients are going to pass right by you. I don't even want to think of all the business we've lost to those T&K assholes! You know what T&K has that we don't have, Dad?"
"A bullshit artist for a sales representative?"
"A website."
Finally, Carl stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't bring you in here so you could sit behind the desk and play on the computer all day. I brought you in here to grow and build this company and turn a profit--"
"Which is exactly what I'm going to do. The company isn't failing. In fact, we're doing rather well. And so we lost an account. Isn't the first, won't be the last. But we can potentially keep from losing any more business because I'm making an executive decision. I'm promoting Kim to the new IT department that we're about to develop and she's going to build a website for us. It'll be interactive, it'll be up-to-date, and it will be easy for potential clients to contact us. Jesus, Dad, it astounds me that nobody around here ever thought to do this until this morning. What does that say about us? About you?"
Carl stared hard into his son's eyes in silence before he finally spoke. "Fine. I'll let you have your little project. I'll even let you give that little lady out there a pay raise. But if this falls through like this Carson gig did this morning, I've had it."
Bravely, and startlingly out of character, Eric took a step closer to his father and replied menacingly through his teeth, "You're not going to let me do anything. I'm doing it. Because I run Reynolds Construction now. I call the shots. And if you don't like the way I'm running things, please, feel free to show me the door right now."
The tension in the room was so strong that Walt, who had remained abnormally quiet, finally coughed in a poor attempt to relieve some of it. Finally, Eric's father grabbed a folder off the desk and brushed past him. "Where are you going with that?" Eric asked.
"Carson Innovations," he replied. "To save your ass."
With that, Walt silently and nervously followed his older brother out the office door.
************
Stepping behind his desk, Eric collapsed into the chair in a heap of nerves, his hands trembling and his neck sweating at the ass-chewing he had just given his father. Maybe he was finally tired of it. Maybe he was finally fed up with the micromanaging and the distrust. Eric knew he was good at his job, he knew the company and the industry like the back of his hand. What he didn't know, apparently, was women.
He'd learned one thing, though: never volunteer to take over a lead where your potential romantic interest is over the opposite company. That was stupid. That, he knew.
Opening the internet on his computer, Eric went to the first place that gave him inspiration: Carson Innovations' web page. Staring at the home page, he sat back in his chair and wiped the sweat from his upper lip, loosening the tie he still wore tucked inside his Armani suit jacket. The page was bright and inviting. It was interactive, with plenty of clickable links, slide shows, contact information, and even a section to take virtual tours of their work. He was willing to bet that Juliet had her own IT department. Her offices weren't large, but they were apparently expanding by the project. Carson Innovations only seemed to get bigger and bigger while it felt like Reynolds Construction just...stood still.
Damn, she was one hell of a woman.
At the thought, his heart sank once more at the memory of the morning's events. He'd never missed a woman so much in his life. He even missed her when he was standing right in front of her. Something had happened to him Saturday night, something...not of this earth. Something...something so critical that, all of a sudden, she began to factor into all his decision-making. What would Juliet do? What would Juliet think? How would she feel about this? All of this, and she never even wanted to see him again. When had he become such a weak man?
As he continued to stare at the screen, Travis poked his head in the door of the office and walked in, softly closing the door behind him. "Hey," he said gently. "I, uh, I heard the way you gave it to Dad out there. I'm, uh, I'm proud of you."
The sight of Travis made Eric's stomach churn with sickness. The last thing he wanted in that moment was his sympathy or his support or his concern. He didn't want anything out of Travis. He'd already done enough.
"Don't you have a crew you're supposed to be piecing together?" Eric muttered.
"I could be..." Travis's voice trailed off suspiciously. "But I chose to come in here and make sure you survived the old man's visit."
"Still here, aren't I?"
"Are you?"
Finally, Eric looked up from the computer screen and up at his brother's face. "What does that mean?"
"You've been distant...like...dude, are you mad at me?"
"What do you think?" Eric spat, pounding his fist on his desk. "You ruined me! You ruined everything!"
Suddenly, Travis's eyes widened in alarm. "What the fuck are you talking about? I haven't done anything--!"
"Really? Because spending my Sunday morning sitting in the police station was all a fucking dream? That this nightmare I'm living now as a result of it is something I'll eventually wake from? Fucking enlighten me, Travis! Be my guest!"
"The police station?" Travis argued back. "Are you serious? You know what, fuck you. I thought you were the one person I could count on to help me out when I got stuck in a bind. I should have guessed, judging by the amount of time it actually took you to get there, that counting on you was a bad idea. Fucking excuse me for needing a fucking hand!"
Eric sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Fuck. Travis was right. Travis didn't know. Travis wasn't the one who left a sleeping woman a note. A note. Who leaves a fucking note?
"Look, you're right," Eric sighed. "I'm sorry, I just--man, I don't even know who the fuck I am anymore. I don't know which way is up. Everything's just going to hell in a hand basket--"
"Well you seemed to have a pretty good handle on the situation with Dad, so it can't be that awful."
"I lied," Eric confessed.
At that, Travis crossed in front of his usual chair and scooted it closer to the desk. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked quietly.
"That website bullshit. It's just--it's bullshit, I pulled it out of my ass. I mean, I'm gonna act on it now, but that's not--man, there wasn't even a meeting. I barely even got my foot over the threshold in her office."
"What happened?" Travis hissed with alarm, seemingly forgetting their argument just seconds ago.
"I'm a complete fuck up. I'm an asshole, moron, idiot, just keep coming with the synonyms. I'm so fucking stupid, I--I slept with her--"
"Juliet?!" His brother asked incredulously.
"After you left with Beth, I--I said I was right behind you, but I wasn't. And it was..." Eric paused and shook his head. "It was probably the best night of my life."
"Wow," Travis said, sitting back in his chair. "So she is that good."
"That's not it."
"Stop being so fucking cryptic and just say it."
"We just...we got to know each other. We talked most of the night. And she's...Travis, she's fucking amazing. She's overcome...obstacles that neither you or I could ever fathom and--and she's an inspiration. She's everything I ever wanted to be. She's strong, she's intelligent, she's driven and passionate...and she can dish out a burn like a champ."
Eric found himself smiling as he recounted his memories to his brother. Meanwhile, the blood was draining from Travis's face. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. "I fucked it up, didn't I? Calling you from jail..."
"No," Eric said, shaking his head. "No, I fucked it up. I just used you as a scapegoat so I could stay in denial. I, um...I left her a note."
"A note," Travis deadpanned.
"I thought I was doing good. She was sleeping so...so soundly and I didn't have the heart to disturb her and I thought about coming back, and--so I found something and wrote her a short note. Gave her my number. After I took you home I realized I didn't have hers, so I texted Terrell and got it. But she never got back to me. She never called or texted...and then this morning she accused me of abandoning her. She accused me of using her to gain the account, and then of taking advantage of her and abandoning her."
"Come on," Travis replied skeptically. "Someone like her should know better than to accuse someone of abandonment--"
"She cried," Eric cut in, flatly. "Right there in front of me, right there in her office. Real tears. I fucking broke her heart, Travis. I'm a complete, god damned bastard."
"I didn't realize she has one..."
Eric cut a glare at his brother. "She does. And it's very large and it's very heavy and it's harboring things that would make your nightmares look like a Disney movie. And I cheapened her feelings and her trust and our entire night together with a fucking note. Which she claims doesn't exist, by the way. So. Yeah. That's what happened."
Travis looked at him in a daze, as if to take all of the information in. "Dude," he whispered in thought. "You gotta make it right. Or I could. What if I did?"
"No," Eric shook his head. "No, I just...it's not even about the account anymore. I just--want to stand next to her. I know that sounds cheesy, but--"
"You miss her."
"Like hell."
"Well, you know where she lives and you know where she works," his brother spoke up, matter-of-factly. "You basically have every means to contact her. So just do it. She can't completely avoid you. Especially since...well, since Beth and I have something going on..."
Eric shook his head and smirked. "Travis, I'm not--just no. Why don't we just not test those waters?"
"No. I mean...I like this one. I think, uh, I think I could hang with her for awhile."
"Hm," Eric acknowledged. "Well. I'm not using Beth for this company's gain, either. Let's just forget about Carson Innovations and focus on the projects we have coming up."
"Eric," Travis stated, his tone serious again. "You know we're the company she's looking for, don't you? We have everything she's looking for. There isn't a more perfect partnership. You have to know that."
"I do know that. But she doesn't want to know it."
"Make her know it," Travis replied firmly. "And don't ever give up."
Beth was floored. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to be, either. In the years that she had known Juliet, she had never seen her in such a state and her concern for her grew steadily by the second. She wanted to feel sorry for Eric--the poor man looked so helpless. And had she known that anything that bad had happened between them, she'd have never scheduled the meeting. She should have known better than to spring this on Juliet like that.
As she walked Eric across the open lobby area and toward the elevator, she tried to save face. "Eric, I had no idea--"
His face was the picture of dejection and stress. "You don't have to say anything."
"Look, I don't know what happened--"
"I did something stupid," he shot off. "A real idiot move. I can't believe--"
"You shouldn't have lied about the note," she replied, her voice gentle but firm.
"I did leave a note!" He whispered loudly.
"Eric, that woman is my best friend. She's like my sister. And I have never seen her act like that in all the years I've known her. I'm scared and I'm concerned. What did you do to her? Be honest."
"I cared about her," he spat, his eyes dark with rage. "That's what I did. And I understand that she has issues, but she needs to get over herself long enough to let me prove to her that I'm not gonna beat up on her like her husband did!"
Beth was taken aback by his comments and now she was more confused than ever before. "Husband?" She asked, shaking her head. "What husband? Juliet's never been married..."
"Shit," Eric muttered under his breath. "Look, forget I ever said anything--"
"No," she said suddenly, desperate for any sort of logic and explanation. "This is--this is all getting out of control. What are you talking about?"
"It's really not my place to say," he replied, is voice softening. "It sounds like the two of you have things to talk about. I'm gonna make myself scarce. I'm, uh, I'm sorry that I wasted your time--and hers. Good luck to your company in the future, okay?"
"Eric, wait!"
But he was gone. And Beth was left standing alone in a devastating mess.
Her hands shook as she stood there and let his voice ring loud in her ears. 'I'm not gonna beat up on her like her husband did.' She swallowed the lump in her throat that formed the very moment his words hit her. Husband? Juliet had been married? Why hadn't Beth known this?
Hesitantly, she made her way back to Juliet's office. For the first time since she'd met her, she had no idea what to expect when she opened the door. She had no idea how to approach her--she didn't even know if she really knew who she was. It was almost as if Juliet were a stranger all of a sudden.
Slowly and carefully, she opened the door to Juliet's office without knocking. Closing it gently behind her, she locked the door, and she witnessed her best friend as she hid her face in her hands. She stood and she looked at her for a moment, unsure of where to start. It was surreal, watching Juliet break down. She was the strongest person Beth knew, she always had been. Juliet never showed sadness or sorrow or any amount of self-pity. Juliet took no prisoners. But right now? She looked like a prisoner, herself.
"Jules," Beth finally whispered. "I think we need to talk."
It took a moment before Juliet finally lifted her head and showed Beth her tear-streaked face. Beth's heart broke in an instant. Juliet shook her head, her lip quivering. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Beth glanced at the white, leather couch that sat near Juliet's desk and she headed for it. "Come sit by me," she said gently.
"You're going to hate me," Juliet whispered.
"No, I won't."
"Yes," Juliet nodded. "You will."
"Come on." Beth patted the cushion beside her and nodded Juliet over.
Juliet didn't look like the sophisticated thirty-something that Beth had grown to know and love. She looked like a child--a scared child--that was about to be punished. Where had everything gone out into left field like this? With Eric Reynolds?
When Juliet took her seat, Beth took her by the hand and placed it between both of hers. "Jules," she said softly. "I need you to tell me everything that happened after I left your apartment Saturday night."
Juliet only blinked at her. She was stalling. She watched her body tense up and her hands started to shake. Beth squeezed the one hand tighter in hers. "Jules," she urged.
"I'm so ashamed of myself," Juliet whispered.
"What happened?"
"I gave in," she replied nervously. "To him, I--I gave in to him. I never give in, Beth. Never. And for good reason. But this time, I--I just couldn't help myself, it was like I didn't even know who I was. And I'm so ashamed of myself for it."
"What happened?" Beth repeated gently.
"He, um, he came into my bedroom. And...and I let him kiss me--on the lips. And then--and then we talked. And we laughed." The corners of her mouth turned up shakily through her tears. "And then I had a panic attack."
"Oh, sweetie," Beth whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind Juliet's ear.
Juliet took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "I had a panic attack because the memories started coming back. Out of nowhere. I let him lay me on my back and I freaked out. Beth, I--I lied to you. I'm so ashamed of myself, I should have never kept anything from you. Please. Please don't hate me."
"Tell me."
"Please don't leave me," Juliet's voice creaked out as fresh tears filled her eyes. "I need you. I don't want you to hate me and I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I--I never meant to hurt you--"
"Tell me," Beth pressed.
And then Juliet poured her heart out. She poured it out through tears, through gasps of breath, through obscene amounts of time. So many things--so many stories, so many memories, so much pain. So many nightmares and horrors. Beth's mouth hung open for the majority of the time. Her heart pounded and she wiped away her own tears. How could people do these things to other people like this? To children? To innocent young women who didn't know any better? All Juliet had wanted was a life and a future and a happy home. It was no wonder she ran away to New York. It was no wonder...
It dawned on Beth that the reality was, Juliet had never really said much about her past beyond being from Kentucky. She'd claimed she came from a small family and she always had something to say when Beth asked why she wasn't going home for the holidays or why her small family never came to visit. Now she realized that Juliet had been too ashamed to tell her the truth--Juliet didn't have a family. She had never had a family. She had never known what it felt like to be safe in her mother's arms or feel the warmth of her father's smile. She never knew family gatherings, she didn't have anything to reminisce about, she never knew what it felt like to belong anywhere. Beth was literally all she had--and now she understood why Juliet never got close to anyone.
As Juliet spoke, Beth began to appreciate her own family a little more. She was grateful. Her family loved Juliet and Juliet always smiled when Beth brought her home. Beth's family was in Queens. Beth came from middle-class parents, who were still married, and had given her two younger sisters that she doted on and adored. She'd gotten through college on scholarships and had dreamed of nothing but architecture since the Christmas she received her first dollhouse that her father had built with his own hands. From then on, she was obsessed with buildings and design and planned her future very early on, with continued support from her family every single step of the way. Juliet never knew what it was like to be supported until she moved to New York. She barely even had a future back then.
"I'm so sorry," Juliet said again, wiping her face with her hand. "Beth, I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to lie to you, I just--I never wanted to remember. I just wanted to forget. I wanted to start new, where nobody knew me and I could be whoever I wanted. I didn't want my past to be a stigma or a crutch or some sob story. I don't--Beth, I don't even deserve to be where I am right now."
"Nonsense," Beth whispered through her tears. "You deserve every bit of success that you've earned--"
"No," Juliet shook her head. "I don't. I don't even have a high school diploma."
Now Beth's eyes widened in surprise and she blinked at Juliet. "Are you serious?"
Juliet nodded, sniffing her tears away. "Yeah. I dropped out, I--Beth, all I do here is draw pictures. I don't know shit about architecture. I shouldn't own this company, I shouldn't run anything--my name shouldn't even be on it, my entire life is a lie."
"No. Jules, it isn't. Look, you--you fought and you scratched your way to get to where you are today. Both of us have. It wasn't easy, none of it was handed to us. But we both earned it, fair and square. We worked hard for it, especially you. So what if you don't know shit about the specifics of architecture? That's what you have me for. But running a successful business also requires drive and passion and a love for what you do. It requires dedication and belief in yourself and your company--and you have all of that, Jules. Nobody can take that away from you. And nobody wants to. You're the heart of this company. Okay? You run this, this is your baby. All I do is the busy work. And I love the busy work. The way we run things now--I wouldn't have it any other way. I like it this way. You are here because you deserve to be. You earned it. You got that?"
"I can't do it without you," she whispered. "I can't do anything without you. Beth, I--I don't even think I know who I am anymore..."
"Tell me about Eric," Beth said suddenly.
At this, Juliet's entire demeanor changed and her body stiffened, her face stone cold. "I don't want to talk about Eric."
"You can't do this, Jules. You can't keep things bottled up like this. Have you--have you ever even spoken to anyone? About anything?"
Juliet shook her head. "No. I told you, I don't want to remember."
"Jules," Beth shook her head back at her. "You can't do that. Jesus, no wonder you're a basket case. You can not carry these things around with you like that."
"I've already talked about it two times too many--"
"Well. Then. Talk to me. Talk to me until you're ready to get real help--"
"I don't need help. I'm over it, I got over it a long time ago."
"Yeah?" Beth challenged. "Is that why you're an emotional, hot mess right now? Huh?"
Juliet sighed in response.
"Tell me about Eric. What is it about him that caused you to just...spill your heart out all of a sudden? Do you realize how big a deal that is? You're the biggest man-hater I know and you managed to give it all to him in one entire night. Why?"
"I don't know," Juliet said softly. "I don't--I don't want to talk about it."
"You care about him."
"I don't care about him, I hardly know him," Juliet spat, her eyes hard. "Why the hell would I care about him, you heard what he did to me. He's a liar. Just like all the others."
"But he's not like all the others, is he? You don't really believe that."
"Has Manuel been giving you psychology lessons or something?"
"No," Beth smiled. "It felt like the Fourth of July when I stepped into this office. The heat almost burned me."
"I hate him," Juliet finally revealed in an uncertain whisper. "I hate him because he makes me feel things. He's made me feel things since--Beth, I don't want to feel things. The last time I felt things--"
"He's not him, sweetie. Not all men are him."
"Yes, they are--"
"No. They aren't. Eric Reynolds worships the ground you walk on, Juliet. I mean, he hasn't come right out and said it, but it's so obvious. He's a kind, strong, handsome man, and honestly, I think the only thing he really wants to do is hold your hand and kiss you goodnight. He seems like he's really romantic like that."
"He's twenty-seven," Juliet blurted.
Beth's eyes widened in surprise and she blinked her eyes at her. "Twenty-seven? Really? Damn..." If Eric was twenty-seven, then that made Travis twenty-seven. Three years younger than Beth. At thirty, this almost made her feel like a cougar of sorts. She had to admit, that was kind of hot.
But anyway. Back to Juliet.
"That's how it starts, you know," Juliet said quietly. "They're handsome and they're charming and they're innocent...they reel you in, make you trust them. And then...they own you. Just like that. They're all the same."
"Juliet, that's not--"
"It is true," she cut her off. Juliet had hardened again. Bottled up her emotions, her expression stone cold with a voice to match. "Even Chris thought he was going to come in that night and get his way. Never, Beth. Never."
Beth looked at her best friend with sorrow and regret. She didn't want to pity her and Juliet didn't want her to. But she'd been done such a disservice in life and she hated that her own happiness had to suffer for it. There were men out there--good men--that didn't abuse women, who were compassionate and caring. And despite his apparent, shotty decision-making skills, Eric Reynolds appeared to be one of them. Juliet deserved a chance at happiness. It was her time now. And Beth didn't think that Eric would be a bad place to start.
"Juliet," Beth said, placing a comforting hand on knee and lowering her head to catch her eye. "Listen to me. Okay? Why don't you--I mean, for once, just--hear Eric out? He did something stupid, it's just--it's just what men do. But it was probably some little misunderstanding--"
"No," Juliet said harshly, glaring at Beth. "It was no misunderstanding. He couldn't stand the heat, so he got out of the kitchen. He's a coward. And he's a liar. I don't have time for either one of those things."
"He's really insistent on that note--"
"It's the twenty-first fucking century, Beth! Who in the hell leaves a note? There was no note. It's been three days. There is no note. There never was. He is a coward and a liar. He is not the man I knew Saturday night."
Juliet's face began to turn red again and her nostrils flared as her eyes began to glisten. There it was, Beth thought. Her feelings hadn't completely left her. "Who was he Saturday night?" She asked softly.
Juliet's lip trembled in helpless emotion. "He was everything a woman wants in a man," she whispered. "He was everything."
With this, she fell victim to another violent onset of tears and collapsed into Beth's arms. As Beth stroked her hair and held her close, she began to have a battle with herself. Part of her wanted to march straight to Travis and tell him to tell his brother that he was a complete fuckup and he needed to find a way make things right. The other part of her knew this wasn't her battle to fight. And, as it stood, there was no battle. There was no Eric Reynolds and there was no Reynolds Construction. There was nothing. And, as per the norm, it was exactly how Juliet preferred it.
______________________________________________________________________________
"Fuck!" Eric cursed himself when he closed himself inside his silver Ford Atlas. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" As he cursed himself, his steering wheel took a beating before he collapsed his forehead into it for a moment to attempt to collect himself.
What in the hell had just happened? This was fucking insane. He shouldn't have written the note. He shouldn't have checked his fucking phone, he should have just let Travis rot, at least for a few more hours. He would have been perfectly fine.
But, no. Because as soon as he listened to the voicemail, the very first thing that ran through his head was what always got the best of him: "Dad will kill me." Especially if Travis had gotten himself into any deeper trouble. Somehow, all of this would be Eric's fault. It always was.
Eric hated himself. He'd never felt so much disdain for himself in his entire life. He hadn't felt this low even when he'd walked in on his ex and the maintenance man. It was worse because, now that he thought about it, every single word Juliet had said had been right--from her point of view. She didn't know any better. She couldn't. But that didn't give her any excuse to stand there and belittle and berate him and pass judgment without letting him get so much as a single word in in defense of himself. That wasn't fair and, for that, she still owed him.
And then there was the company. Everyone was literally waiting in anticipation for the results of this meeting and there hadn't even been one. Was he really that stupid? Was hindsight really that cruel to him? Had he not gotten the hint Sunday and Monday when he hadn't gotten so much as a "K" in a text message? And he seriously thought that he was going to walk into her office and land a contract? He should have been smarter, he should have sent Walt. Or hell, even Travis. Travis owed Eric so much right now, he couldn't even begin to pay reparations. Travis had been on his shit list since Sunday morning, anyway. This morning, he'd just soared to number one.
Juliet's face. Eric squeezed his eyes shut to get rid of the memory of her face. And her eyes. It was almost as if he had killed her parents. The hurt and the disappointment and the blatant betrayal that was written all over her face upon sight of him punched him in the gut and he'd wanted to be sick. Every word to him was a blow, either to the chest or the gut or the throat, one right after the other.
He should never have left Sunday morning.
After what was a more difficult drive back to the office than it should have been, Eric took a deep breath before walking into Reynolds Construction headquarters. Expectant eyes followed him as he silently walked to his office, but that didn't stop an overzealous Kim from leaving her post and trotting behind him, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. "Mr. Reynolds," she said, trying to get his attention. "Mr. Reynolds, you have--"
But it was too late. He opened his office door to find his father sitting behind his old desk and his Uncle Walt in his usual chair across from it.
"--company," Kim finished quietly, still behind him. "Um, I'll, um, just be getting back to my desk now."
When it rained, it didn't just pour. It came down in torrents.
***************
Carl Reynolds was an intimidating man. All of the Reynolds men were tall, with Carl standing at a towering six feet and three inches. His hair was the colors of salt and pepper and his eyes were hard and blue. Carl Reynolds had always been a man who knew what he wanted and knew how to get it and never passed up an opportunity to further himself. This made him a success and Eric had to admire that about his father. In fact, Eric had always wanted to be like his father, despite the way he seemingly treated Eric as an afterthought. Eric always tried to tell himself that his father was so rough on him because he wanted him to succeed. The truth, Eric feared, was that his father's only concern was the state of his company and that he had serious doubts that Eric could keep it going. That was why he had Walt waiting in the wings.
When it wasn't work-related, however, Carl Reynolds was a completely different person. Growing up, he'd been an excellent father to the three boys and he raised them with the ideal childhood. He was involved in their activities, made sure to spend quality time with them, and taught them life essentials. Even now, his father was great to have a beer with when they weren't talking about the company.
Unfortunately, though, the older Eric got, the more and more the company seemed to interfere with quality family time.
The only reason Carl had chosen to retire was because Eric's mother, Libby, had finally pressured him into it. If it was left completely up to his father, he would have worked for the rest of his life. Eric knew deep down that his father was pleased with his decision--and he could even understand his apprehension about leaving his life's work in someone else's hands, no matter the relation--but the way he went about it could have been much better-executed.
Carl Reynolds was a military man. Spent six years in the army before he got out and decided to go into construction. Now his oldest son, Andy, made a career out of the military, so recruiting him into the family business was automatically off the table. Andy was someone Carl could be proud of.
And then there was Travis, the ultimate family let-down. With Travis's genius-level IQ, he was pretty much allowed run wild and do what he wanted to. "Maybe if you got the grades that he did, you'd be allowed the same privileges," Eric's father had said to him. But his father never saw the work Eric put into his grades, which weren't that bad. He never saw the hours of studying, the sleepless nights, or the lunch breaks he spent at school getting special tutoring lessons. Eric worked hard and Travis never even had to try. Yet, even after screwing up college and spending his years surfing the beaches of Malibu, bumming off the sand, Carl was still practically salivating at the bit to get Travis into his desk chair. "He's got the smarts," Carl had said. "He's got what it takes to run the business."
The irony of it was, Eric was the only one in the family stupid enough to actually want the company. He spent his summers working on the construction crew and he absolutely loved it. In college, he majored in accounting and minored in business and, after college, his father made him the production manager of the company. Eric was ecstatic, he thought this was it. This was the moment that his father could finally see his potential, he could finally see that Eric loved what he did and he was good at it. But then when Carl turned the other cheek and brought Travis back home to New York, it was like a complete slap in the face. When a pissed off Travis told their father where he could shove the position, Eric ended up with it by default and Travis was given the sink or swim ultimatum. And, now, Eric's life was ruined piece by piece, bit by bit, all since Sunday morning, by the three evils he should have long seen coming: a woman, his father, and his brother.
Eric just wanted to disappear.
"Son," his father greeted him with a smile. "You're early for the celebration!"
"What celebration?"
"The Carson account, son! I came for the victory party! Gotta say, didn't expect you so soon..."
Shit. Eric knew there was an ulterior motive here. His father wasn't there for any kind of party. He suspected that Eric couldn't close the deal. And damn it, he was right.
"Well, Dad," Eric replied with a stress-filled, deep breath. "That's because the meeting...didn't really go anywhere."
Carl's face hardened, but he didn't show surprise, which cut Eric pretty deep. "Is that so? So, let me...see if I have my information correct. You are provided with...at least two opportunities to speak directly to the owner of this company--and blow both of them. Then you somehow manage to land a meeting, and you still can't close the deal. Jesus, Eric, she's a woman. Business or not, they're all the same. Bat your pretty eyelashes at her, tell her her dress looks nice, and sign the god damned dotted line."
Suddenly, Eric's self-pity turned into pure disgust. "Are you serious? Are you--? This is unbelievable. First of all, she's not that kind of woman. And most important, that logic is a load of shit! And completely unprofessional, at that."
"And, yet, I could turn a profit," Carl replied, sitting back comfortably in the desk chair. "How about that?"
Eric fumed, his mind drawing a momentary blank. He couldn't tell his father what really happened with Juliet. If he found out the real reason he blew the deal, his father would send him packing as sure as the sky was blue. Then something Kim had said yesterday suddenly rang in his ears. 'Miss Carson was a little put off by the fact that we don't have a website...'
It was a cheap shot, but at least it was partially true.
"You know why I couldn't close the deal, Dad? The real reason why I couldn't close it?"
"By all means," Carl patronized.
"Because this company is a dinosaur."
His father blinked at him in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I couldn't close the deal because we don't have a website. A website, Dad! A fucking website."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You lied better than that when you used to cover for your brother," Carl spat.
"Not a lie," Eric shot back, his eyebrows raised with objection. "Carson Innovations prides itself on being on the very forefront of technology. In this day and age, especially in this city, it's sink or swim. You have to be on the forefront of technology or else you're just gonna sink. That's how it is."
"That's ridiculous. This company was built around good, honest, solid hard work with the best of references. We're still one of the preferred construction companies around here, or else we wouldn't have crews all over the place right now!"
"In 1994, that was fantastic! Now, if you don't have easy access to a company's information, potential clients are going to pass right by you. I don't even want to think of all the business we've lost to those T&K assholes! You know what T&K has that we don't have, Dad?"
"A bullshit artist for a sales representative?"
"A website."
Finally, Carl stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't bring you in here so you could sit behind the desk and play on the computer all day. I brought you in here to grow and build this company and turn a profit--"
"Which is exactly what I'm going to do. The company isn't failing. In fact, we're doing rather well. And so we lost an account. Isn't the first, won't be the last. But we can potentially keep from losing any more business because I'm making an executive decision. I'm promoting Kim to the new IT department that we're about to develop and she's going to build a website for us. It'll be interactive, it'll be up-to-date, and it will be easy for potential clients to contact us. Jesus, Dad, it astounds me that nobody around here ever thought to do this until this morning. What does that say about us? About you?"
Carl stared hard into his son's eyes in silence before he finally spoke. "Fine. I'll let you have your little project. I'll even let you give that little lady out there a pay raise. But if this falls through like this Carson gig did this morning, I've had it."
Bravely, and startlingly out of character, Eric took a step closer to his father and replied menacingly through his teeth, "You're not going to let me do anything. I'm doing it. Because I run Reynolds Construction now. I call the shots. And if you don't like the way I'm running things, please, feel free to show me the door right now."
The tension in the room was so strong that Walt, who had remained abnormally quiet, finally coughed in a poor attempt to relieve some of it. Finally, Eric's father grabbed a folder off the desk and brushed past him. "Where are you going with that?" Eric asked.
"Carson Innovations," he replied. "To save your ass."
With that, Walt silently and nervously followed his older brother out the office door.
************
Stepping behind his desk, Eric collapsed into the chair in a heap of nerves, his hands trembling and his neck sweating at the ass-chewing he had just given his father. Maybe he was finally tired of it. Maybe he was finally fed up with the micromanaging and the distrust. Eric knew he was good at his job, he knew the company and the industry like the back of his hand. What he didn't know, apparently, was women.
He'd learned one thing, though: never volunteer to take over a lead where your potential romantic interest is over the opposite company. That was stupid. That, he knew.
Opening the internet on his computer, Eric went to the first place that gave him inspiration: Carson Innovations' web page. Staring at the home page, he sat back in his chair and wiped the sweat from his upper lip, loosening the tie he still wore tucked inside his Armani suit jacket. The page was bright and inviting. It was interactive, with plenty of clickable links, slide shows, contact information, and even a section to take virtual tours of their work. He was willing to bet that Juliet had her own IT department. Her offices weren't large, but they were apparently expanding by the project. Carson Innovations only seemed to get bigger and bigger while it felt like Reynolds Construction just...stood still.
Damn, she was one hell of a woman.
At the thought, his heart sank once more at the memory of the morning's events. He'd never missed a woman so much in his life. He even missed her when he was standing right in front of her. Something had happened to him Saturday night, something...not of this earth. Something...something so critical that, all of a sudden, she began to factor into all his decision-making. What would Juliet do? What would Juliet think? How would she feel about this? All of this, and she never even wanted to see him again. When had he become such a weak man?
As he continued to stare at the screen, Travis poked his head in the door of the office and walked in, softly closing the door behind him. "Hey," he said gently. "I, uh, I heard the way you gave it to Dad out there. I'm, uh, I'm proud of you."
The sight of Travis made Eric's stomach churn with sickness. The last thing he wanted in that moment was his sympathy or his support or his concern. He didn't want anything out of Travis. He'd already done enough.
"Don't you have a crew you're supposed to be piecing together?" Eric muttered.
"I could be..." Travis's voice trailed off suspiciously. "But I chose to come in here and make sure you survived the old man's visit."
"Still here, aren't I?"
"Are you?"
Finally, Eric looked up from the computer screen and up at his brother's face. "What does that mean?"
"You've been distant...like...dude, are you mad at me?"
"What do you think?" Eric spat, pounding his fist on his desk. "You ruined me! You ruined everything!"
Suddenly, Travis's eyes widened in alarm. "What the fuck are you talking about? I haven't done anything--!"
"Really? Because spending my Sunday morning sitting in the police station was all a fucking dream? That this nightmare I'm living now as a result of it is something I'll eventually wake from? Fucking enlighten me, Travis! Be my guest!"
"The police station?" Travis argued back. "Are you serious? You know what, fuck you. I thought you were the one person I could count on to help me out when I got stuck in a bind. I should have guessed, judging by the amount of time it actually took you to get there, that counting on you was a bad idea. Fucking excuse me for needing a fucking hand!"
Eric sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Fuck. Travis was right. Travis didn't know. Travis wasn't the one who left a sleeping woman a note. A note. Who leaves a fucking note?
"Look, you're right," Eric sighed. "I'm sorry, I just--man, I don't even know who the fuck I am anymore. I don't know which way is up. Everything's just going to hell in a hand basket--"
"Well you seemed to have a pretty good handle on the situation with Dad, so it can't be that awful."
"I lied," Eric confessed.
At that, Travis crossed in front of his usual chair and scooted it closer to the desk. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked quietly.
"That website bullshit. It's just--it's bullshit, I pulled it out of my ass. I mean, I'm gonna act on it now, but that's not--man, there wasn't even a meeting. I barely even got my foot over the threshold in her office."
"What happened?" Travis hissed with alarm, seemingly forgetting their argument just seconds ago.
"I'm a complete fuck up. I'm an asshole, moron, idiot, just keep coming with the synonyms. I'm so fucking stupid, I--I slept with her--"
"Juliet?!" His brother asked incredulously.
"After you left with Beth, I--I said I was right behind you, but I wasn't. And it was..." Eric paused and shook his head. "It was probably the best night of my life."
"Wow," Travis said, sitting back in his chair. "So she is that good."
"That's not it."
"Stop being so fucking cryptic and just say it."
"We just...we got to know each other. We talked most of the night. And she's...Travis, she's fucking amazing. She's overcome...obstacles that neither you or I could ever fathom and--and she's an inspiration. She's everything I ever wanted to be. She's strong, she's intelligent, she's driven and passionate...and she can dish out a burn like a champ."
Eric found himself smiling as he recounted his memories to his brother. Meanwhile, the blood was draining from Travis's face. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. "I fucked it up, didn't I? Calling you from jail..."
"No," Eric said, shaking his head. "No, I fucked it up. I just used you as a scapegoat so I could stay in denial. I, um...I left her a note."
"A note," Travis deadpanned.
"I thought I was doing good. She was sleeping so...so soundly and I didn't have the heart to disturb her and I thought about coming back, and--so I found something and wrote her a short note. Gave her my number. After I took you home I realized I didn't have hers, so I texted Terrell and got it. But she never got back to me. She never called or texted...and then this morning she accused me of abandoning her. She accused me of using her to gain the account, and then of taking advantage of her and abandoning her."
"Come on," Travis replied skeptically. "Someone like her should know better than to accuse someone of abandonment--"
"She cried," Eric cut in, flatly. "Right there in front of me, right there in her office. Real tears. I fucking broke her heart, Travis. I'm a complete, god damned bastard."
"I didn't realize she has one..."
Eric cut a glare at his brother. "She does. And it's very large and it's very heavy and it's harboring things that would make your nightmares look like a Disney movie. And I cheapened her feelings and her trust and our entire night together with a fucking note. Which she claims doesn't exist, by the way. So. Yeah. That's what happened."
Travis looked at him in a daze, as if to take all of the information in. "Dude," he whispered in thought. "You gotta make it right. Or I could. What if I did?"
"No," Eric shook his head. "No, I just...it's not even about the account anymore. I just--want to stand next to her. I know that sounds cheesy, but--"
"You miss her."
"Like hell."
"Well, you know where she lives and you know where she works," his brother spoke up, matter-of-factly. "You basically have every means to contact her. So just do it. She can't completely avoid you. Especially since...well, since Beth and I have something going on..."
Eric shook his head and smirked. "Travis, I'm not--just no. Why don't we just not test those waters?"
"No. I mean...I like this one. I think, uh, I think I could hang with her for awhile."
"Hm," Eric acknowledged. "Well. I'm not using Beth for this company's gain, either. Let's just forget about Carson Innovations and focus on the projects we have coming up."
"Eric," Travis stated, his tone serious again. "You know we're the company she's looking for, don't you? We have everything she's looking for. There isn't a more perfect partnership. You have to know that."
"I do know that. But she doesn't want to know it."
"Make her know it," Travis replied firmly. "And don't ever give up."