Falling for Mr Corporate Read online

  “Excuse me?” my client asked from the other end of the phone.

  “Uh Mr. Roberts, sorry about that,” I said, closing my eyes. “An emergency just came up and I have to go. I’ll ring you as soon as I can.”

  “Alrighty then. Don’t disappoint, Gordon. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  I hung up and sighed in frustration. “What did he do this time?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t ask. The principal just asked for you directly.”

  “Okay. You can transfer the call.”

  She nodded, her eyes full of compassion and I glanced away. Even six months after Barbara killed herself, people still gave me the pitiful look. At least it was better than her parents glaring at me and insisting I had done something to drive their daughter to take her own life.

  The phone on my desk rang and I snatched it up. “This is Gordon, speaking.”

  “Gordon, this is Principal McLean.”

  “How are you doing, Jackson?” I asked the man who had been in high school with me. My kids couldn’t catch a break at that school. Each time they did something wrong, I received a call from the principal’s office as was the case in such a small town like Carrington where everybody knew everybody. Before their mother’s death, our kids had been well-behaved, certainly no worse than other kids. Now Ollie was breaking rules I didn’t even know the school had.

  “Trying to run a school over here,” Jackson answered. “But your boy’s making it increasingly difficult to do so.”

  “What’d he do this time?”

  “He showed up at school this morning but seems like he skipped out.”

  Again. This was the fourth time since the month started. “This is a difficult time for him—”

  “I know. I know,” he cut me off. “His mother killed herself and he’s going through a tough time. I get it, but he needs to get that life will not wait on him to catch up. You have him back here in my office in an hour or I’m going to have to suspend him for five days.”

  “Five days! He’s almost at the end of high school. He’s been a great kid up until this moment.”

  “And that’s why I’m giving you an hour to bring him in.” A click sounded in my ear as he hung up.

  “Son of a bitch,” I gritted out. I swore when I got my hands on Ollie I’d— I lost my steam when I thought about him and all he had endured these past months. I worried for him, my beautiful boy who had lost a mother too soon. He never talked about it and to the best of my knowledge, he had not cried since the day we found Barbara’s body. Charlie had been the opposite, crying every minute. At one point, I had to send her away for a week to stay with my mother, so she didn’t have to be around the memories every minute.

  Grabbing my signature denim jacket, I shrugged into it, checking my pockets that I had my cellphone and wallet on me. I palmed my car keys from the desk and stormed from the office. Maybe I had been too easy on Ollie, making excuses for him because his mother died. His behavior was becoming too much, and we were going to do something about it once and for all.

  “Glenna, I’ll be out probably for the rest of the evening,” I said, stopping by her desk. “Ensure the guys complete their logs before they leave, will you? Especially Red.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  “I’ll send them a reminder in our group chat, just to be on the safe side. Now let’s hope I find this kid within an hour.”

  “Good luck.”

  I smiled at her even though I didn’t feel like it, because she had been a rock for me in all this. I didn’t regret taking on the forty-five year old woman, at all since I started this business five years ago. I’d taken a chance on her at that age and she hadn’t disappointed. She was exactly what the office needed when the men got a little carried away with their sexist conversations. She acted more like a mother to everyone than just a secretary.

  Once I was out the office, I headed for my Dodge. I racked my brain to think of where I could find Ollie at this time of the day. It was just some minutes after twelve. Who knew how long he had ditched classes? I reached for my pocket and dialed my best friend’s number as I drove out of the company’s parking lot.

  “Gordon, what’s up?” Eric answered on the second ring. “Everybody okay?” Since I’d called him that day we found Barbara, he asked that question each time I rang him. I hated that he was anticipating something else going wrong.

  “Ollie is missing from school again,” I answered. “Jackson wants to suspend him if we don’t show up at his office in the next hour. Make that fifty minutes. I don’t even have a clue where to look.”

  “I can’t report him missing,” Eric responded. “But I’ll have the guys keep a lookout for him. I’ll also take a tour through the mall. Have any other idea where he might be?”

  “I wish to God I did.”

  “Did you try his phone?”

  “Fuck. I didn’t even think about that. I’ll do that now although I doubt he’ll answer if he’s skipping class.”

  “Try. You never know. Let’s hope he’s alright.”

  “I don’t know, Eric. The kid’s not been the same since his mother died. I worry for him.”

  “He’ll be fine. He’s a good kid at heart. Just a little fucked up at the moment. But we’ll get him back.”

  “Okay. Keep me updated.”

  I hung up and at the stoplight punched in the speed dial number to call Ollie. His phone rang to voicemail. I kept calling him but with no response. Frustrated, I threw the phone onto the dash and started my search.

  ***

  I spent almost thirty minutes driving all over town and working myself in a frenzy. I went from keeping back tears of desperation to swearing I’d knock some sense into Ollie when I found him. He couldn’t be gone forever. I was never one to spank the kids but as those minutes ticked by and drew closer to the hour, I understood why some parents found it easy. God help him when I locate him.

  I was out of ideas where next to look. I’d stopped by all the kids’ favorite jaunts. I’d been disturbed at the number of kids who skipped classes. I never thought one of my own would be in the mix. I was heading for the school alone, to plead with Jackson, not to suspend Ollie when my phone rang. I grabbed it from the dashboard, believing it was Ollie returning my call. It was Eric.

  “Did you find him?” I asked on a rush. “I hope you did because I didn’t. I’m heading over to the school now to talk to Jackson.”

  “I’ve got him,” Eric replied.

  “Thank God!” I almost let go the steering wheel the way I was relieved. “Put him on the phone.”

  “Not yet,” he answered. “I’ll give you two some time to cool off. I’m close to the school so I’ll meet you there.”

  “Fine.” When he didn’t hang up, I had the feeling that something else was wrong. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I found him because we got a complaint about a kid shoplifting,” he answered. “Turned out to be Ollie and some girl he skipped classes with.”

  “He did what?” I shouted in the phone, my face turning red. “Why would he do something so stupid? He’s not in need of anything.”

  “Kids shoplift to stay cool more than because they can’t afford it,” he replied. “I thought you’d want to make that sink in before we meet up with you. Go easy on him, Gordon.”

  I hung up the phone and threw the phone to the dashboard. This time the disappointed tears didn’t stay away. They burnt hot trails down my cheeks. I resented Barbara in that moment. I never understood why she took her own life but the kids were suffering so greatly from it. She had to have known how much they loved her and how much pain they would be left to deal with.

  Ollie had never been the golden angel, even as a child. He was always precocious, but in the way normal kids were. He would break curfew a time or two, but he didn’t do things like shoplifting. I had to get to the bottom of this. Otherwise, the next thing I knew, I’d be visiting him behind bars. He wasn’t too young for them not to try him as an adult,
if he kept making these stupid mistakes. Maybe I should have never allowed him to miss those grief counseling sessions, but I hadn’t wanted to push.

  When I drove up to the school, I lost my steam when I saw Ollie standing with Eric dressed in his police uniform. Eric had his hand placed on Ollie’ shoulder and the boy had his head bowed. I stared at him and remembered him at eighteen months, toddling his way to me with his toothy, drooling grin. My heart squeezed, and as I parked, I closed my eyes briefly to calm down. Nothing would be solved by railing at him. I’d done that the last time he skipped school and it had just spurred an argument between us. Maybe this time I should try the softer approach, although I believed I’d exhausted that too.

  I parked and climbed out of the truck, slamming the door shut with a little bit more force than necessary. Whatever Eric said to Ollie, the boy nodded but still hung his head. I stopped before the two and didn’t know what to say. So many thoughts had run through my mind while I combed the streets looking for him, but now that I saw him, not one made sense.

  “Thanks for the help.” I told Eric because it was easier to talk to him than my own son, and that fucking killed me.

  “No problem.” Eric slapped me on the shoulder and squeezed tightly. “Remember, go easy on him. I took care of the owner of the store, but everyone won’t be so quick not to press charges a next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time.” I thanked him and watched him swagger to his squad car. He drove away, honking his horn at us.

  “Listen to your father, son,” he said in parting.

  Left alone, I turned to Ollie, passing a hand over my face and behind my neck. “Why?” I asked him. “Why would you do something so stupid and reckless, Ollie?”

  He shuffled his feet around without a response. That only made me angry. For the first time in my life, I had the urge to strike my son and it scared me, because if he didn’t change his attitude, I really might. I had no intention of hitting him, but a man could only take so much. It hurt to see my son turning into a stranger, on a highway to ruining his life. It hurt more that I didn’t know how to stop it. I felt powerless, weak.

  “I’m trying my best here,” I told him, choking out the words beyond the lump in my throat. When he still refused to look at me, I grabbed him by the shoulders. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He glanced up then, his eyes full of unshed tears— tears I wished he would cry for the mother he had lost. A second after, his head lowered again. “I’m trying my goddamn best here. I know you’re hurting. I swear I do. I have to live with this every day, that I couldn’t protect you or Charlie from seeing your mother just-just...” I trailed off, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t know what else to do, Ollie so if there’s something I’m doing that’s wrong, if I am failing you, if there’s something else that you would respond to better, let me know, but I can’t help you if you don’t speak to me.”

  Silence stretched between us but then he raised his head and I was relieved. He was responding. Thank God he was responding.

  “Can we just go in?” he asked, staring me in the eyes. “You’re making this weird.”

  I cleared my throat, hurt and disappointed, two emotions I was beginning to associate with him.

  “Okay, then. Let’s go.” He walked ahead of me and every step he took widened the gap between us in more ways than just the physical. At that moment, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to get him back.

  Two

  Beau

  Locking up the room of the community theater that I had volunteered to revive, I slipped the keys into my pocket. The cool night air was refreshing from the heat of the small auditorium with over a dozen kids auditioning for a role in the play we were hoping to host. It was the project I had planned to help out with when I had signed on to leave my town in France to move to the U.S. My contract was for renewable after one year and I was getting as involved as possible so I didn’t have to return home.

  My phone rang and I dug it from my messenger bag I had draped across my body. My mood instantly shattered when I saw the name displayed on the front. I shouldn’t answer it. I should let it go to voicemail but the part of me that still missed him a little and the part of me that missed home wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to hear the sexy British accent. My God, I was a glutton for punishment. Would I never learn?

  Apparently not.

  “Hello.” That was all I said which was even one word too many.

  “Baby, thank God you answered!”

  “Don’t call me that, Ian,” I said through clenched teeth. I held the phone between my ear and shoulder as I dug the car keys out of the messenger bag as well. When I found it, I unlocked the door and opened it. I threw the messenger bag inside on the passengers seat.

  “I can’t believe you’re still mad at me,” he said on a growl. “I thought we’d be over this by now. You know the way I feel about you.”

  “No, what I do know is what it’s like to be stitched up in the hospital because my boyfriend’s anger got out of control.”

  “It’s better,” he vowed. “Just come home, back to France. Back to my home. I swear it, I’ll never lift a hand against you again.”

  I slipped into the car and slammed the door shut. “It’s too late for promises, Ian. It wasn’t the first or second time. Plus, this conversation is all too played out. I’ve to go.”

  “Don’t hang upon me you ungrateful cocksucker!”

  My eyes burned with humiliating tears and I hung up on him. I blinked the tears away. Four months ago I’d walked away from that life which held no promise for me. I’d made some bad decisions in life yes, but that was no reason to have been treated the way Ian would treat me sometimes. And to think he claimed he had changed. One time I would have been eager to believe him, so easily dazzled by the British man who had shown me kindness when I needed it.

  Even months after him sending me to the hospital, I was still humiliated thinking about it. I’d never thought before that I would be a victim of domestic abuse. I was smart. I was educated. None of those things should have happened to me. But I was away now, with a new life. I had a new beginning and I would make use of it.

  I drove the ten minutes home from the community center but felt too restless to stay in. Even after four months of being here in Louisiana, there was still so much I had left to explore. Tonight I knew exactly where I wanted to be though. As soon as I arrived at the two bedroom apartment on 3072 Main Street, I stripped and headed straight for the shower. From the shower, I padded naked to my closet to find something to put on. I had very little clothes with me in Coventry, having decided to leave most of what I had back in France.

  After dressing in gray pants, a dark blue shirt with quarter sleeves and a jacket, I gave myself a pass in the mirror. I didn’t brush my hair but ran my fingers through the dark brown locks with blond highlights. I applied some Chapstick to my lips and then I was out of the apartment again. I had yet to make any real friends in Coventry. Some of my co-workers were friendly but I didn’t have a personal connection with anyone.

  Instead of driving to the club, I decided to call a cab. I wasn’t a party animal but I felt disconnected and lonely tonight. I was hoping the bar would cheer me up. When I had discovered the only gay bar in Coventry three weeks ago, I had been ecstatic.

  The cab dropped me off at the bar and turned his head to look at me. “This is a gay bar, you know. If you want real bar, I can take you to one.”

  “No, no that’s fine,” I told him, opening the car door. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

  I paid him, leaving a decent tip which I regretted as I heard him mumble about gay people taking over the town. I had to admit I found Coventry to be a little old-fashioned in comparison to the way I had lived in France. Very few people in my home country was surprised at seeing same-sex couples. I suspected this was also the same in the larger cities but Coventry was small, less than five hundred people in total.

  I entered the bar, which
had an upstairs where they had the club, live shows, cabarets and drags performing on different nights. They even had an open mic night. Head turned as I entered but other than a polite smile when a man tried to get my attention, I didn’t stop until I was at the bar. Tonight, I had more need for liquor in my system than sharing the night with a man.

  The bartender spotted me and smiled. I suppressed the old habits and didn’t return the smile. Old Beau would have smiled back and taken advantage of the situation. Old Beau would be walking away from tonight without paying his tab. Old Beau was left in France where he belonged.

  “What can I get you there, handsome?” White teeth flashed as the man leaned against the counter. He was on the slender side and his black hair had purples highlights. A barbell flashed from his tongue when he spoke. He was a good looking guy and I would have probably considered chatting with him if I had been in the mood for bumping cocks. I hadn’t been with another man in the nine months that I had broken up with Ian.

  “I’d like a Martini.”

  “You like it dirty?”

  “Yeah, give it to me dirty, straight up.” I paused, hearing the words coming out of my mouth. He smirked at me before pushing off the counter to mix my drink.

  He returned in record time. “Enjoy. First one's on me.”

  He didn't give me a chance to respond but moved on to his next customer. I was relieved the bar was busier than usual which kept him occupied. Being hit on by a bartender was a cliché I had no intention of perpetuating.

  Sipping on my martini, the liquid burned a path down my throat and warmed my belly. I could feel my tension from earlier melting away. Ian was a continent away from me and I didn't need to give him any thought.

  I surveyed the room, taking in a game of pool a few men were engaged in. They were loud but it was obvious they were having fun. I could see a few others surrounding them holding a bet. Something moved in my peripheral vision and I glanced in the direction of the bar’s entrance. The first thing I noted was the shape that materialized from the poor lighting of the interior. The man who had just entered approached the bar, a delicious package in wrapping that the lighting pealed away the closer he got. My cock twitched, apparently not getting the memo that he wouldn't be on duty tonight. I squirmed on the stool.