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Waiting For Us (Beautiful Surrender #3) Page 6
Author: Ava Claire

A lone tear splashed onto my hand and I swear I felt the sadness in it down to my very bones. But it wasn't alone. The anger and refusal to shut down rushed over me, beckoning me like a old friend. I one handed the roses, using the other to wipe my face. I put the vase back where I found it, sniffling as I dumped the note in the wastebasket.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Not here.

Dad would be so embarrassed, and we can't have that, can we?

I'd have to save the falling apart for when I got home. Always smiling. Always professional. Heaven forbid I act human or show emotions like pain or sadness.

Usually that pep talk was all I needed to shut down everything else, but today the dam just wasn't springing up. Tears rushed back to the surface, threatening to force me to break down whether I wanted to or not.

“Air,” I said hoarsely, yanking my door open and vaulting myself forward. Air and putting some distance between me and those ugly, smelly, stupid roses—

Boom!

I staggered backward, reeling. Somehow my reflexes kicked in five seconds too late as I caught the iPad that flew in my direction. I held tight to it, my face falling as I came face to face with none other than Carl Dietnem, the youngest of our prospective clients. His claim to fame was that he seemed content to spend every meeting ogling my br**sts. Even though I'd nearly knocked him to the floor, you'd never know it because the guy's piercing blue eyes were, surprise-surprise, locked on my chest.

I held out the iPad and held back the urge to slap him across my face. “Mr. Dietnem! I'm so—”

“Mr. Dietnem, I am so sorry!” My dad's apology boomed over mine and he stepped in front of me, like I was a servant who'd just spilled wine and brought shame on my employers. Like I wasn't his daughter, that he raised with manners and the ability to apologize when I screwed up. Like I was nothing but an employee.

“Get the hell out of my way, Dad!”

I'd never seen him move so fast. My dad was a big man, built like a wall of brick, imposing. I got my blue eyes from him—but that's where the freebies ended. He made me work for everything, including his affection. Right now there was no affection to be found in his narrowed gaze, nothing but shock and building anger. My first sin was talking back, the second was profanity. He was old school. I think if I had a brother, he wouldn't have supported me going into a field like business at all. Maybe art or teaching or nursing. And cursing? That was as far from ladylike and respectable that I could get.

I knew he wanted me to hang my head and tuck my tail between my legs and slink back to my office, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. The whole room was quiet, everyone suddenly tuned into our conversation. None of them even existed to me. It was just me and my dad. Or, he should have been my dad. At the moment, he was just my employer, and I had some grievances to air.

“If you're waiting for an apology, you'll have to wait until I finish my first one.”

Shock won out briefly and Dad gaped at me. “W-what?”

I sidestepped him, making eye contact with Carl, who wasn't eye harassing me because he too, was in speechless awe. “I'm sorry I ran into you.”

The reprieve was brief as he licked his lips, winking. “You can run into me anytime, baby.”

I scoffed disgustedly, pulling my blazer shut. I remembered my dad and stood a little taller. Eyeing me was one thing, but no way would he let that fly, even if I was being mouthy.

But Dad didn't say a word. Everyone in the office had heard what Carl said, and my father couldn't even be bothered to put Dietnem in his place.

Of course not. It might cost the account.

Tears choked me, but I wouldn't be silenced. Not this time. “Did you even notice when I was gone? Did you even care?”

“Melissa—”

“I'm not finished Dad!” I snarled, whirling to face him. “You know what I need right now, more than a boss? A father. I need you to see me. But what's the point of wanting that, wishing for it? I've been invisible to you since the day I was born.”

The gasps and murmurs rippled across the room. There it was, our dirty laundry waving in the wind. I saw it hit my dad like a blow to the chest; to his perfectly crafted image. But just as quickly as he looked ready to rip me a new one, it was scrubbed away, replaced by the consummate businessman, the unfeeling robot I'd known all of my life.

“We will discuss this later, Melissa.”

My nostrils flared as humiliation burned red brands in my cheeks. I shook my head slowly, hurt knocking the air from my lungs. “No, we won't.”

I didn't say anything else, holding it together as best I could until I stepped out of the building, then let my tears carry me to my car.

CHAPTER FIVE

I swung into my assigned parking stall and jerked my car into park. My car shuddered as I killed the engine, grumbling about my taking out my crap day on it. There was no one else. I didn't have the guts to face my dad again, I refused to even acknowledge Jason's attempt at reconciliation, and Logan...I dug deep and I still couldn't find the will to be angry at him. So my car drew the short straw.

I went around to the backseat and pulled out my bag, stuffed to the brim with all the things I had to do tonight since I called it an early day. Mrs. Walker took pity on me and saved me from the walk of shame, bringing it down for me just as I was psyching myself into going back in the building. I found no judgment, or questions in her coal black eyes—nothing but concern. She didn’t say anything more than 'Take care of yourself' and I broke down, sobbing like a child, right there in the parking garage. She held me, letting me use her blouse as my tissue and her arms for comfort. When I was done I apologized, feeling even worse when I realized she'd given me more love in those five minutes than my father had given me in the last five years.

I bumped the door closed with my hip, an even sadder thought slicing through my mind. Five years? Try your whole life.

The tears seeped from my heart like poison, filling my eyes. I could cry now, walk into my apartment and shut the world out and let go, but I stood my ground and held them back. Tears would get me nowhere, and I had a lot to catch up on if I intended to strut into the office tomorrow like nothing happened. Pretend I was perfectly capable of handling my job and not a complete nutcase.

“Well, let's get on with it,” I muttered to myself. I pushed the door open and a chill raced down my spine, writhing in the pit of my stomach. I hadn't even stepped inside, but I felt like something was wrong. Something was off.

I hadn't crossed the threshold, but I knew someone was inside my apartment.

I remained in the doorway, my body slightly tilted toward the parking lot, ready to get the hell out of there if I needed to.

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Ava Claire's Novels
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» The Billionaire's Wife (Part Two)
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