Breathe Page 3

  I get myself situated and call for Ashlyn when I’m ready. Within seconds the door is opening. She sits in one of the white leather chairs in front of my desk, ready to do as I ask.

  “So, what does my schedule look like today?”

  “You have a meeting on nineteen at ten o’clock. The round of questions for the next issue should arrive to your e-mail by noon. Talia would like the first set of the summer line looked at before the end of the day and your father would like to speak with you before your meeting this morning.” She stumbles on that last part. Since he owns Icon Magazine, the building she works in and is worth billions, he intimidates her. He intimidates most people. “His assistant said he could meet you here or in his office, whichever you prefer.”

  “Let Katherine know that I’ll meet him in his office this morning. Thank you, Ashlyn.” That’s her cue to leave. She does just that and I’m alone again. This is what I want today. I want to be alone in my office so I can concentrate on work and try to forget the asshole and the situation.

  Nine-twenty rolls around and my desk phone buzzes. “Yes.”

  “Grace, your father’s office is calling. He would like to know when you’re coming up to his office.”

  “Tell Katherine I’m on my way now.” I hate that Daddy knows my schedule.

  I get into the elevator and take the long ride up to the forty-second floor. The doors open and I head back to his office. I don’t stop at the reception desk and zip past Katherine’s desk. I knock as I open the door.

  “Hi Daddy,” I say quietly as I stand in the doorway.

  My father, with his perfectly placed silver hair, looks up from the papers he's reading, smiles and stands. His deep brown eyes are sharp with intelligence. He’s tall with broad shoulders and a face that’s chiseled with lines around his eyes that show his maturity. I know I'm a bit bias, but he’s quite handsome. I see how he could be intimidating to some. William Stratton is a very powerful New York City businessman and looks every inch the part. But to me, he’s just Daddy.

  Most people know that I’m his weakness. I have a way of breaking that intimidation down and making him putty in my hands. Call it a gift if you must.

  He steps around his desk, opening his arms to initiate a hug. “Gracie. I’ve missed you.”

  “Daddy, I just saw you yesterday before I left the office,” I say with an exasperated half-laugh.

  “I know, I know. But a father needs to dote on his little girl.” See? I have the power. He picks up a small remote control from his desk and turns on a stereo hidden in a sidewall. Louis Armstrong starts wheezing out “What a Wonderful World”. Daddy takes my hand in his holding it out to the side, wrapping his other arm around my waist. “Let's dance, Gracie.”

  He whimsically spins me around his office. We've been doing this since the day I was born. Mom used to tell me stories of how Daddy would hold me as a small baby and dance with me in the nursery to get me to calm down. It's a tradition that has never faded. He won’t let go, so I won’t either. One of the safest places I can be is in his arms.

  When the song ends he kisses me on the nose, lets me go and ushers me to his chocolate brown leather couch that sits near a large picture window overlooking Midtown. The buildings surrounding this one so tall and vast, yet so beautiful.

  “So,” he sits. “Is there anything going on that you would like to talk to me about?”

  He knows.

  Shit.

  “No.”

  “Grace,” he says eyeing me in a very fatherly way.

  “Well...” I stare at my fingers as they play with the lily charm. I feel I may have disappointed him. I can't stand disappointing him. “Patrick came over for dinner last night and we had a talk.”

  He places his hand over mine to stop the fidgeting. “Uh huh...and?”

  “Um...well...he sort of...” I take a breath. “He ended the engagement and broke up with me.” I spit out quickly while wincing, not knowing what his reaction will be.

  “So, he called it off, did he? The rumors are true then. Did he tell you why?” I keep my head down, not saying a word. “Is this because of the talk I had with him last week?”

  I turn slightly and look him dead on.

  “Hmm. He didn’t tell you?” I must have a confused look on my face because he immediately continues. “We met for lunch and had a talk about his position at the agency. I told him that if he doesn’t start taking his job more seriously, I will need to place him elsewhere.” Daddy had given Patrick a job at his modeling agency shortly after we graduated.

  “Why would you do that? What was he doing that would earn that discussion?” I asked, slightly annoyed.

  “Gracie, an associate at the agency has informed me that Patrick is using his status and his connections to our family name to, shall I say, connect with some of the models. I don’t know the exact details, but I do know that I am not going to let him use my company, my family name and my little girl to get a little something on the side. So, I let him know where he stands with me and my company.”

  How do I respond to that? Daddy was just doing what he always does to protect the reputations of the business and the family, especially me.

  “I may have also given him an ultimatum,” he adds, quivering a little as he does when he knows he may upset me.

  “An ultimatum?”

  He nods “I simply stated that he has two choices. One is to continue to be the man he should be, the man the Warren family raised him to be and act appropriately. He would keep you, his job and his social status. The other is to quietly break ties with the family and move on knowing he will only keep his job if he maintains in good standing and doesn’t keep trying to connect with the employees of the agency in a public way.”

  I wrap my head around what he just said. “This is why he wanted to talk it out longer last night. He didn’t want me to be as upset as I was in fear of losing his job and his status.” I murmured, but obviously not quiet enough. I look up at Daddy again. Tears prick at the back of my eyes. “He chose the other. He chose Amelia.”

  “Who in the hell is Amelia?”

  “Patrick’s new girlfriend? I guess they’ve been seeing each other for a few months.” I let go of the dam behind my eyes and tears slowly spill down the sides of my face. Ugh. I hate crying. Nothing good ever comes from crying.

  Daddy stands up, grabs a Kleenex out of the box on the side table and hands it to me. I take it graciously, watching him pace around the large rectangular coffee table that sits in front of the couch.

  “He broke off the engagement last night and is flaunting this girl around as his new interest?” His voice is quite loud now. “I’m going to ruin him!” I’m sure the entire office floor can hear him. “Katherine!”

  The door opens and Katherine, a pretty brunette in her fifties, stands ready to take the order. “Get Patrick Warren on the line right now. I will not wait long.” She scurries out of the room and closes the door behind her.

  “Daddy. No. Don’t do this. Just let it be. I’ll get over him somehow. We don’t work in the same building. I don’t go on many photo shoots. He has nothing at my apartment except hot dogs. I’m sure I can avoid him in public. I can make a clean break.” I plead to him, not want a scene.

  The phone buzzes and Katherine’s voice slices through the air. “Mr. Stratton, Mr. Warren is on the line.”

  “Should I take it? It’s your call Gracie.”

  I shake my head and look down at my hands again.

  “Katherine, please let Patrick know that I do not need to speak with him after all.” He pauses for a beat. “But inform him that he should expect to hear from me again by the end of the day.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He looks down, cups my chin with his right hand and I look up to meet his gaze. His facial expression is one of sadness and worry. I stand and give him a hug. He holds me and squeezes tighter as I lean in more.

  “I love you, Gracie. You know I will do anything you ask of me. Say the word
and he’s Stratton history.”

  “I love you, too. I’ll be ok.”

  After he kisses my nose like he’s done since I was born, I turn and walk out of his office. I head back down to my floor and attempt to continue the workday. Attempt being the operative word. Actually, it's an overstatement.

  CONCENTRATING IS NOT an easy feat today. After working through lunch, sitting through a meeting, answering only a few phone calls and avoiding as much human contact as possible, I make the decision that today is an early release day for me.

  “Ashlyn,” I say into the intercom on the desk phone.

  Seconds later she’s in the doorway. “Yes?”

  “I’m leaving work early today. Please cancel any other appointments I may have and reschedule them for Monday if they’ll fit. Let Beatrice know that I’m leaving, as well. I’m sure she already knows why.” Beatrice is the Editor-In-Chief. Being in close contact with Daddy, I’m confident he’s informed her of the situation.

  “Okay. Anything else I can do for you before you leave?” she asks in a low, concerned voice.

  “Email me any info I may need to work on over the weekend. Thank you, Ashlyn. That will be all.” She turns on her heel and heads back to her desk, picks up the phone and starts making calls.

  I pull out my phone to text Thomas letting him know I’ll need him in about twenty minutes. Four texts and two missed calls await me. I must have been in such a daze that I didn’t hear the phone buzzing. I ignore them for now and promise myself to respond to them in the car.

  As requested, Thomas is waiting out front of the Stratton building ready to take me to the location of my choice. All I want to do is go home, curl up on the comfy sofa and watch sad movies.

  I walk through the front door of my apartment a little before four o’clock. Dropping my handbag, briefcase and jacket on the white armchair, I clumsily shuffle to the long end of the sofa and plop down haphazardly. Curling my legs up to my side, I lay my head on the arm of the couch and snuggle in with Duritz. I feel my eyes getting heavy and let them shut. Thank God for the dark because color sucks right now.

  Chapter Three

  I awaken to a hand rubbing my arm. Amy is standing over me saying something in a hushed voice.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I ask, blinking rapidly and shaking my head to clear the sleepiness.

  “Mr. Colby has phoned twice now. I let him know you were resting but he insists that you call him back. He mentioned he texted you twice and called you once today already. I think he’s worried.”

  Ugh. I broke my promise and never answered my texts or voicemails. “Okay. Thanks, Amy,” I respond while hesitantly dropping my legs to the floor. Rising slowly, I go in search of my cell. “What time is it?”

  “Just after seven,” she says walking towards the kitchen.

  Since I’m awake I might as well let Rafe know I’m alive. Somewhat anyway.

  “What the hell, Gracie?” He screams through the phone.

  “Hi, Rafe.”

  “What have you been doing all day? You can’t even call me for five seconds to let me know you’re okay? God. You can be such a bitch sometimes.” Rafe has no filter.

  “Well, I’m fine so you can be at peace now. Go about your evening.”

  “Good.” He lowers his voice. “I’m glad you’re okay. Now get changed into something fantastic. We’re going out.”

  “I don’t feel like going out. As you know I have not had a very pleasant twenty-four-hours. I don’t want pics of me all over Manhattan partying, thinking the engagement is off because I’m a slutty whore about town. That’s Patrick’s thing. Not mine.”

  “We’re not going out in the City. We’re going to Jersey. Jersey City to be exact.”

  “Huh? What? Why?” This is such an absurd idea.

  “Briar called me this afternoon. Apparently, she talked to Miles and he came up with the brilliant idea to get a group together and get you out of here. He knows a guy who owns a bar in Jersey City. Some guy he went to Harvard with or something. We’ve got it all worked out. All you have to do is get your sweet ass ready and meet Thomas in front of your building around eight-thirty.”

  “So, let me get this straight. My friends are dragging me out to Jersey City, to a bar owned by a guy my big brother knows, to show me a good time?” This is some crazy shit. “I don’t think so. I’m in no mood for one of my brother’s and Briar’s crazy ideas to get me through this,” I respond in the most annoyed of tones. I’m not letting this happen. Not today. My brother thinks he can solve anything by taking me out and pouring booze down my throat. Besides, Asher should be here soon.

  The ring of my doorbell makes me pause for a moment.

  “Hold a sec, Rafe. Some asshole is at the door. Not sure how they got past the front desk, but...” I open the door and to my surprise, it’s Rafe.

  “So, I’m an ass now, huh?” he says as he drops his cell into his blazer breast pocket.

  “You're a hot piece of ass,” I quip.

  “Let’s go to that room you call a closet and play dress up.”

  With much hesitation, but no struggle, I link my arm around the crook in his elbow and let him lead me through my bedroom into the closet. He sits me on the light blue ottoman in the center of the room and I watch him start rummaging through all the clothing. I have to admit, it’s quite fascinating watching him in his element.

  He’s dressed in mid-wash denim, a double pocket button down with epaulets, in his signature color blue, and a darker shaded blue skinny tie. He shed his navy blazer already.

  Christ, he always looks good.

  “Hot damn!” He screams. “This is perfect!” He pulls out a soft pink dress I haven’t worn yet. I was given the dress by an up and coming designer I did a piece on for the magazine. I've been saving it for a special occasion.

  “No Rafe. I can’t wear that tonight.” I shake my head with sadness.

  “And why the hell not?” He asks holding it out, basking in its beauty. “It’s hot as sin.”

  “I was saving that for the engagement party. It doesn’t feel right to wear it tonight. It's a tainted dress now.” I bow my head, trying desperately not to burst into tears. “I don't think I can show off this dress at some get together that's not my celebrating my engagement. Not now. Not tonight.”

  “Save the tears, cry-baby. You’re wearing it. Go put it on. Maybe we can get it tainted with something else.” He winks, hands me the garment and I begin to shed my current clothing. As I start taking off my panties to change into a more appropriate pair for the dress, Rafe makes a sort of groaning sound.

  “Gracie, as much as I love a nice set of boobies...”

  “What? You don't want to see my perfectly bare jay-jay?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Then leave.”

  He bows his head and rushes out of the closet.

  Ha! There’s a pun there, somewhere.

  Ten long minutes later, I exit and head out to the bedroom where I find Rafe sitting on a white, cushioned chair reading the latest edition of Vogue.

  “Ahem.”

  Rafe turns and immediately I see his eyes open wide and mouth open wider. “Holy! Bananas!” I could be wrong, but think he likes it.

  The hem of the soft pink frock hits a few inches above the knee and fits to my thighs like a second skin. The deep V in the front and back show a lot of skin. The shimmer of the fabric reflects off my pale skin tone and gives my cheeks a pinkish hue. But that could possibly be from the crying.

  “You like?” I ask, trying my hardest to act like I’m okay with this.

  He growls. “I love. You look amazing. So do those tits!” A wide grin forms on his beautiful face as he holds up his hands and squeezes the air like he's squeezing my melons. He stands, grabs my arm and leads me back into the bathroom. “Now, let’s get that hair to tame and touch up...err, put on some makeup and we can be on our way.”

  “I can’t believe I’m letting you take me to Jersey,” I stumble a bi
t to get to the full-length mirror to check myself out. I stare at the girl looking back at me. I do look amazing. Rafe is a miracle worker. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

  “Believe it baby. You’re going to have the time of your life.” He grins slyly. “When do you ever not have a good time when you’re with me?”

  “True.” I turn on my heel and head out the bedroom door. Rafe follows with my twill overnight bag. “Um, what’s with my bag?”

  “We’re staying in Jersey tonight. We’ve booked a few rooms. Just go with it.” He laughs. “Don’t forget these.” He holds up a pair of nude platform patent leather heels. My favorites. I can do anything and everything in these shoes. And I do mean everything (wink).

  As I enter the living room I see a skinny teenager sitting at the island, head down, inhaling Amy’s lasagna. He looks up when he hears me and does a double take.

  “Shit, Sis. You look amazing!” He gets up from the stool and runs at me.

  “Thanks, Asher. Don’t say shit.” I try to say sternly while giving him a bear hug. I let go and head into the kitchen to talk with Amy. “I’m going out tonight and apparently won’t be back until tomorrow sometime. Can you make sure Asher gets to his hockey practice, please?”

  “Already taken care of, hon.” I give her a puzzling look. She gives her head a slight tilt and smiles. “Miles called me a bit ago and let me in on his little plan for you. I told him I would take care of things over here with Asher as long as he took care of you.”

  Miles has thought of everything. I love him for that. But he's sending me out to Jersey. I hate him for that.

  “Asher,” I turn and glare in his direction, “be on your best behavior tonight. Please don’t go out. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon after your practice. We’ll have lunch or something, okay?”

  “Sounds good,” he says, giving me another hug. “I love you,”

  I kiss him on the cheek. “I love you, too. Stay out of trouble.” I give a glance over to Amy and she nods in agreement with me. “I’m serious. Stay out of trouble.” Letting go of Asher, I turn to Rafe and we head out the door. As we walk towards the elevator I try to prepare myself for the adventure I am about the have with my best friends and brothers. I quickly check my phone to see if there are any messages or texts from Patrick.