Chapter 14 – Hiding My Heart
Monday, August 13, 2035
Ted
"Why, don't you look mighty handsome in that suit!" beams the young, very attractive blond hostess as she places the menus down on both sides of the table.
"Thank you," I smile. She narrows her eyes at me and I chuckle. "Oh, you mean him," I say downtrodden, nodding over towards my little brother.
In pure Topher fashion, he ignores the complement and quickly hops into the seat of his choice. By default, I plop into the empty one across from him and scoot in towards the table.
My baby brother decided to go all-business for our Monday Man-Time lunch meeting – sporting a heather gray vest and pants, a blue dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and a Yale blue and white striped tie. It's safe to say that he's sided with his Ivy League of choice, already making up in his mind where he'll be attending in the next decade. Grandma Grace Trevelyan Grey would be pleased.
Oh, but the pièce de résistance has to be…
"Oh my God – even your little shoes light up!" the girl squeaks, gushing obsessively over my little brother.
Yes, those god-blessed Minions tennis shoes. No matter what Topher wears, he always has to throw them into the equation. He ignores the hostess once more and focuses on the menu placed before him.
I'm certain that he can't read it yet, so I figure he's just hunting for a photograph of chicken nuggets somewhere. I'm not sure he'll find it in a Club Sahara menu, one of my parents' higher-end clubs.
"Your waiter will be right with you," the blonde beams at the two of us.
"Is Monty Montague working today in the kitchen?" I ask.
"I believe so."
"Please tell him that Ted's here."
"And Topher!" my companion instantly chimes in – but he still doesn't look up from his menu.
"Daww! Topher is such an awesome name," the blonde swoons. "Is that your real name, little man – or is that your nickname?"
Topher doesn't respond. I smile in humor. "It's short for Christopher," I answer on his behalf. The blonde places her hands over her heart and sighs with stars in her eyes. Apparently it's just cuteness overload for her.
"Topher. Topher Grey," the boy insists. "Where's the chickey nuggets in here?" he says with a concentrating frown.
She laughs. "Well Topher Grey, I'm not sure but I'll send your waiter right over and check for Monty, okay?" she smiles big and wide. Topher nods but still combs the menu far and wide.
Topher better watch his back because I think this bird wants to take him home. She wouldn't be the first hot girl to ever wish for that. My kid brother macks on the chicks better than I ever could, and he does it without even trying.
Just then, the blonde turns her attention to me.
"You're Ted Grey, I presume?" she says with flirty eyes. I catch those same eyes slyly searching my left hand on the table.
"That would be me," I say with a smirk.
"Topher's dad?" she asks with a satiny voice.
"Uh, no – he's my brother. Do you think that I look old enough to be his father?" I say teasingly. She blinks and then blushes.
"I figured you were quite young – but you never know. I knew that you had to be related because you are both very cute," she says sweetly with fluttering lashes.
"Well, thank you," I wink. My lips twitch and her skin blushes even more.
"So 'Grey'…are you two related to the owners?" she asks.
What is this?
Twenty-one questions?
"Yes," I say simply.
"Christian Grey is my Daddy and Ana Grey is my Mommy," Topher interjects. He's actually looking at the hostess now.
She blinks and then clears her throat. "Oh. Well welcome back to Club Sahara. I'm new here…as if you couldn't tell," she laughs nervously. "I'm Laura, by the way."
"You're doing just fine, Laura. And thank you," I murmur with a side grin. I can hear her sucking in the air through her mouth before she clears her throat once more and adjusts her posture.
"Um… I'll get your waiter and check on Monty," she beams before turning on her heel.
"She talks too much," Topher says after she's far away enough. I chuckle.
"Easy, tiger. She's just nervous. She's new," I reason.
"She likes you. Her face was changing colors."
I laugh. "Actually, I think she likes you more. She was talking to you first until you gave her the cold shoulder. You shouldn't do that to the ladies, Toph," I rib.
"Girls are yucky," he frowns in distaste. "She's a thot."
I gape at him. "Where in the world did you ever learn that word? That's not a very nice thing to say." And part of me wants to laugh, but then I don't want him going home and saying that around Mom and have her blaming me for teaching it to him.
"Dude!"
Looking up to find the source of that voice, I see my boy Monty approaching us. He's decked out in all white looking pretty legit as a junior sous chef. But I know better; Monty will always be the wisecracking asshat regardless of what he has on.
I stand and we slap hands before pulling each other into a one-arm bro hug. He then gives Topher a fist pound.
"So Topher my man, Miss Laura tells me that you have a special request for me," Monty says kneeling down, leaning against my brother's side of the table.
"Chickey nuggets?" he says as if it's a question. But if anyone knows my baby brother, it's never a question with him; it's a command.
"Piece of cake. I got you," he says, pounding his chest. He then turns to me. "What about you, douchebag?"
I narrow my eyes at him and discretely do a slicing motion to the neck.
Not in front of the kid, Monty.
"I'll have that chicken, sundried tomato penne dish," I tell him, unsure of what the exact name is.
"Excellent choice, sir," he says in a playful regal accent. "Make sure that you still relay your order to the waiter. I'll go ahead and get started."
"Sweet," I reply.
Ten minutes later, Topher and I are already digging into lunch. Monty's the man. He even stops by to check in on us after our waiter leaves. Taking a break from the kitchen, he slides a chair in next to Topher.
"So, how's the chicken tenders? I made them especially for you," he grins. With a mouth full of chicken, Topher mumbles something unintelligible. Monty and I laugh.
"Obviously no complaints here," I chuckle.
"Another satisfied customer," Monty beams. "So…where's Miss Booty for Days? I was hoping to lay eyes on her this afternoon," he says with a double wink.
"I appreciate your concern for my girlfriend Monty, but chill on the objectification," I say with a smile not touching my eyes.
"Bro, you know that I'm just playing. But all joking aside, she does indeed have a nice fatty," he says, letting his voice trail off. I smirk at him.
Topher starts laughing out of nowhere. Both Monty and I stare at him in amusement.
"Diana has a big butt!" he giggles.
Monty practically loses it. I want to join him, but I fight to maintain my composure. After all, I'm supposed to be the big brother who's the positive influence.
And besides, I thoroughly enjoy my sweet Diana's voluptuous derriere. It's even gotten slightly larger as I've made it an area of focus during our all-night sexcapades. The key to a nice ass? Two words.
Doggy style.
"How do you even know what a fatty is, Toph?" I say with a pursed lip.
"Monty told me. And he told me what a thot is," he says matter-of-factly.
Monty snorts and covers his mouth. I shake my head in disappointment. I should've never left my kid brother alone with this asshole for longer than a minute back when we were roommates.
"Now don't tell that to your parents. They might just fire me," Monty chuckles.
"No, tell them," I say to my brother.
"Thanks a lot, Ted," Monty smirks. "So, you two love birds have been settled in at that lush love nest for about three weeks now. When should I expect my invite to the wedding of the century?"
"Monty…don't," I say, exasperated.
"What?" he says, feigning innocence.
"I get enough of that from the old man. Answer me this: When are you getting married? Let's talk about that," I say, turning the tables around.
"Last I checked, you needed at least two people in order to do that," he winks.
"You can marry Samantha," I suggest with a devilish grin.
"I don't think King County issues certificates of marriage to inanimate objects," he says with his head tilted upward and a finger on his chin, pretending to ponder.
"Love is love, Monty Carlo. If you want to marry your blowup girlfriend, then who's to say that it's wrong? I'll fight for your right to marry whomever you'd like," I grandstand.
"You're an a-hole, Grey," Monty laughs under his breath. I look over to Topher who's gone back to coloring in between taking bites of his lunch. He's no longer paying attention to either of us.
"So um, since Fenkell the Hottie isn't here, I can give you this," Monty whispers, sliding me over a piece of paper. I frown at him.
"What's this?" I say, not even looking at it.
"It's Laura the hostess' phone number," he replies with two sets of brow raises.
"Nope. Not getting caught with this," I say, trying to force the paper back into Monty's hand. He blocks me, refusing to take it.
"Dude, I won't say anything. Just call her. She's hot as hell," he says discretely.
"Are you insane? I'm not cheating on my girlfriend," I say adamantly as I ball up the slip of paper and place it down on the table.
"Don't leave that here. She'll see it and her feelings will be hurt," Monty says with a pouty lip. He takes the slip and tries to flatten it back into its original state before placing it into his chef's coat.
"Yeah…you call her," I tell him.
"I've been trying for over three weeks to get that girl's number, by the way. Leave it to you to get it in just five seconds," he says, rolling his eyes.
"If it makes you feel better, she did hit on my brother first," I smirk.
"Topher is definitely babe magnet supreme, but so are you. Believe me when I say that she had her eye on you the whole time. She told me," he murmurs seductively.
"Well, when you give her a call, you can pretend that you're me," I volley.
"I'll just need you to fill up my checking account with a few more benjis in order to really convince her," he smirks.
I laugh. "I'm sure you make more than enough here to get by. You're now covering the rent at the apartment all on your lonesome."
"Yeah, life's been good. I can't thank you and your pops enough for getting me in here," he says in appreciation.
"Don't sweat it," I wave off.
"But I envy you. You're kicking ass over at Grey House. The only way I can bring home the mega bucks doing what I love is if I owned my own three-star Michelin-rated restaurant," he says longingly.
"You need to put together a plan and set it in motion," I tell him. "Don't keep fulfilling someone else's dream. Live yours."
"That's sound advice, Grey. So does that mean that both you and I are really living your pop's dream?" he says tongue-in-cheek.
It's rare – but sometimes my old friend Monty can drop some science on your ass and leave you speechless. This is one of those moments.
"You and I are on a bridge to the promised land. We need to stay the course until all of our ducks are all in a row. That's why you need a plan," I tell him.
"Do you have a plan?" he throws back at me.
"Right now I'm stashing money away for my dream. I recently got another raise and I no longer pay rent – as you know," I say. Monty nods his approval. "Also, I'm soaking in all that I can at work. I've been shadowing many departments when I'm not doing my regular job. I've even been filling in for my dad where I can," I add.
"All you have to do is just hang in there for the next ten years or so years, and GEH is all yours," Monty says with a wide grin.
I press my mouth into a straight line. "Yeah…I could do that. But why wait ten years? What if I can make this happen in ten months?" I say in hypothesis.
"Honestly bro, I don't know if this is a really good time to be starting a new venture. You have it made in the f-ing shade," he says with envy. I'm glad that he has enough sense now to filter his language in front of Topher.
"That's true, but there's no better time than the present to take calculated risks. It's easy to jump ship when the economy is doing well. But I will tell you that the returns are much greater if a new venture can succeed during a downturn," I smile before taking a drink of water.
"Your pops is literally grooming you to take over the world. Why would you turn that down?" Monty says, still not seeing the big picture.
"Who says I'm turning it down? I'm taking everything that he's giving me," I argue.
"Yeah, but then at some point you plan on taking all that he's giving you and carrying it somewhere else. Why not just ride it out until you become CEO?"
"Yes, I will be CEO," I agree. "Just not where you think I should be. And besides, Topher already called dibs on GEH," I smile.
"I'm going to be the big boss," Topher chimes, finally breaking his silence.
"Well, you definitely look the part, Pimp Daddy Toph," Marco says as he reaches over to pop Topher's collar.
"I'm going to be big boss number one, and Teddy will be boss number two. Diana will be medium boss number three," Topher explains.
Monty cracks up and I simply grin knowingly. "Is that right?" he says to my brother.
"Yep. And I won't share. I'm never getting married. No thots," Topher declares.
Monty and I can't hold back. We both lose it.
"Ain't nothing wrong with a little thottie action every now and then, Sir Topher. In fact, I'm quite fond of that particular variety of female myself," Monty pours on through the laughter.
"Topher, buddy…you can't use that word anymore. Okay?" I plead with my little brother, trying my damnedest to not start laughing again.
"Why not?" he asks with a quizzical eye.
"Because, it's not a good word."
"Is it a bad word?" Topher inquires, trying to grasp understanding.
"Yes, it is. It's a word that objectifies women," I calmly explain. I'm certain that he doesn't quite get the concept of objectification yet, but what the hay. Nobody can't say that I didn't try to steer him in the proper direction.
"Brie said that Jesse's new girlfriend is…"
I wince and my teeth clinch as I prepare for the absolute worse.
"…that bad word," Topher finally finishes the sentence.
Phew.
"She would say that, wouldn't she," I say with an arched brow.
"Your sister's a maneater. I need to meet this Jesse Rogers character. She ripped that poor fellow's heart to shreds from what you told me," Monty chuckles.
"Yeah, the poor chump," I sigh, shaking my head.
I used to be that guy.
Sunday, June 27, 2032
(Flashback)
Ana
I think I'm going to combust.
At nearly eight months pregnant, I don't even know how I can stand another day of this, much less another five weeks. I seriously want to cry. I miss my poor feet. I miss walking without my ass waddling behind me. If I didn't get why I wasn't keen on having any more children after I had the twins, the point right now is crystal fucking clear. And this is much worse than any of my three previous pregnancies. Combined.
This is pure. Unadulterated. Torture.
Christian knows how miserable I've been, so he's been very insistent on me not waiting another three weeks before taking off from work for maternity leave. But if I stay in this house while waiting for another five weeks to slowly tick on by, I will lose my ever-loving mind.
I guarantee that my husband wouldn't want to come home to Godzilla.
I'm lying in bed midday with my feet propped up while finishing up some work on my laptop. Christian and the twins are at the Mariners game with Elliot. As far as I know, I'm home alone. Teddy's back at Stanford for summer semester. Phoebe is probably somewhere hanging out with Hanson.
Thirty minutes go by and my eyes are tired. I could use a nap. I close my laptop and place it on the bedside table. Just when I shift into bed onto my side, a knock startles me.
Wha…who?!
"Mom? Are you there?"
"Phoebe?" I frown, confused.
"Can I come in?"
I roll like an Easter egg in order to prop myself back up in a seated position.
"Yes," I eventually respond.
My beautiful girl emerges through the opened door wearing the cutest little sleeveless white summer dress with royal blue print.
"I thought you were meeting up with Hanson?" I ask her as she crawls into bed next to me.
"I did," she says sweetly. "We had brunch at Boat Street Kitchen, but then he had to leave to get a few things done at Grey House."
"What is he working on? And why is he working on a Sunday?" I ask with a puzzled frown.
"He just wants to do a good job for Dad. He's just so grateful for everything that he's done for him," she says with adoration radiating from her eyes.
My daughter has told me about her boyfriend's struggles on the home front. You never know what someone's really going through just by looking in from the outside.
On the surface, Brandon and Joy Larkin seemed to have it all altogether. They attended the same social functions that Christian and I go to. They opened up their checkbooks for the hefty donations. They threw the extravagant parties at their home. They went on exotic vacations. But what everyone failed to realize is that was just their way of keeping up with the Joneses.
Sadly, they've been very irresponsible with their money.
Brandon and Joy were so down on their luck that they had to dig into their children's savings in order to patch up some holes. Still, that didn't resolve all of their problems. They are now being faced with the prospect of having to lose their business in bankruptcy.
Up until this past spring, Hanson thought that baseball was his only ticket out. It was the only way that he could get a full ride at UW. It wasn't until he started interning at GEH that he fell in love with numbers. He'd rather fiddle with pivot tables than swing a bat these days.
Today, Hanson is no longer attending UW on an athletic scholarship. The Theodore Trevelyan 'Rising Talent' Scholarship Fund is now footing his tuition as long as he's a part-time employee at GEH. And let me tell you, that young man is earning every bit of that scholarship. He's worked harder than any full-time employee I've seen.
"Hanson knows that the scholarship isn't contingent on him working weekends," I say with a chuckle. Phoebe smiles as she rubs my enormous belly.
"Hey there little guy," she whispers lovingly to the bump.
I chuckle. "Why do you think that it's a boy?"
"Because, I want a baby brother," she says plainly.
"You're stuck at home today with me and this one, huh?" I say with a smirk.
"I'm kind of glad that we're home alone. I've been wanting to talk to you about something," she says. Her expression evens out. I know that whatever's on her mind is important. She has my full, undivided attention.
"Shoot," I say to her as I adjust the pillow under my back.
"Well, you know that Hanson and I have been together for almost nine months now," she prefaces.
Geez, where has the time gone? It only seems like yesterday when Christian and I were going toe to toe over his unreasonable verdict of not letting our then sixteen-year-old daughter date. Today, Christian's not only good with Phoebe dating, but he has taken in Hanson as if he were his own son.
Again, what planet am I living on?
"So um…we haven't um…er a…" she bumbles, awkwardly brandishing her bottom row of teeth.
Oh dear.
"You haven't…" I start, slowly motioning my head up and down.
"Yeah," she answers very uncomfortably.
"Sex," I finally spit out. She winces. "What?" I ask, concerned by her stunned reaction to me saying the word before she does.
"Moms don't have sex," she gasps jokingly. I narrow my eyes at her and plainly rub both hands all around my protruding belly.
'Nuff said.
"Hanson's never pressured me. I mean…I thought all boys had to have it," she says with air quotes.
Hanson is indeed the sweetest young man that I've ever met. I don't know many guys his age that would've waited for as long as he has. It goes to show how much he truly cares for my little girl.
"So now…we're kind of at this point where we know that we love each other," Phoebe pours out.
My heart nearly skips a beat.
"So…I've decided. Starting next weekend, his team at work is off for 4th of July week. I…would like for us to take the next step then."
I don't know if Christian has had a similar moment with Teddy as I'm having with Phoebe. Watching your baby grow up to make grown-up decisions is something that a parent is never fully prepared for.
With the deadly combination of the gravity of this moment along with my raging pregnancy hormones, I immediately begin to weep.
"Mom," Phoebe gasps, stunned. She wraps her arms around me. "Did I say something wrong?"
I wave her off and whisper, "No, no…its okay."
"Why are you crying?"
"You're my little girl," I sob even louder. She hugs me and I can feel her body jerking.
Is she laughing at me?
Phoebe releases me and with humor on her face, reaches over to the table and grabs a tissue. She hands it to me.
"Just be careful, okay? Use a condom," I sniff before blowing my nose.
"I know, Mom," she smiles. "Should I tell Dad too?"
"No!" I snap hastily. "Please…don't do that," I say more calmly.
Phoebe laughs out loud. "I figured as much."
Monday, August 13, 2035
(The Present)
Christian lies on top of me in our bed, ravaging my neck. I groan.
"Hey…I told you that I wanted to talk," I gasp.
Damn, he always knows how to make me forget everything.
Him and his hypnotizing mouth.
"So talk," he murmurs in between kissing me.
Shit. I don't know if this conversation will ruin the mood, because after we talk, I want his hands all over me.
Looks like he's getting a head start. His hands begin working up my nightgown as his mouth slides from my neck and up my jaw. Finally, his lips touch mine.
"Christian," I giggle. "I need my mouth in order to talk."
"You don't need to talk right now, baby. You can use that sweet mouth to do other things," he purrs like a lion. The junction in between my thighs pulsates rapidly.
"Stop it," I laugh. "I need to tell you something."
"So tell me," he breathes, shifting his mouth back down to my neck.
"You know that I had lunch with Phoebe today."
"Mhm," he says before his lips make a smacking sound right against my skin.
"She expressed interest of leaving her dorm for an apartment close to campus," I tell him. He stops kissing my neck and looks down at me with quizzical eyes.
Oh boy. This isn't going to end well.
"She wants to get a place. With a roommate," I say quietly.
"With Sloan?" he prompts with a quizzical eye.
Shit. This is painful.
I slowly shake my head with a look of pure reluctance.
"Then who?" Christian asks in a rough voice.
Jesus…I'm practically shaking in my boots. He's going to go thermonuclear Fifty in just a moment.
"Her boyfriend," I spit out.
Christian stills for a beats before rolling his body from mine.
Fuck. So much for a hot Monday night in bed with Tiger.
He props himself up on his elbow and studies me.
"Look…they've both put aside enough for first and last month's rent along with a security deposit for a decent place close to UW. They've thought this through. Phoebe has outgrown her dorm. Besides, she's a junior now," I babble in a flurry.
Christian sits up. "Settle down," he says, holding up both hands in placation. His expression remains unreadable.
I sit up in bed along with him in preparation of going head-to-head with this stubborn man. "It's because I know that you're about to lose your shit, Christian. I'm just covering all of the bases before you say 'no'."
He narrows his eyes at me.
"Say I'm wrong," I demand.
He continues to sit there in silence, staring at me. As each second passes, this feeling in my chest becomes more and more uncomfortable. Suddenly, the corners of his mouth twitch.
Wait, is he joshing me?!
Why, that adorable ass.
He's fucking with me!
I slap him on the arm and he playfully winces.
"You knew!" I squeal. He laughs.
"Hanson and I went out for lunch today while Phoebe was with you," he finally spills.
"You're such a jackass," I hiss at him, but I can't help but smile at my sneaky husband. Getting me all worked up for nothing.
"But you still love me," he purrs, luring his puckering lips back towards me. I swat him away.
"So?" I prod, begging him to put me out of my misery.
"After Hanson told me their plans, I chewed on it for a second before giving him my blessing. I then put him in touch with my longtime broker."
I gape at my husband.
Seriously? Am I'm hearing him correctly?
He continues. "I believe that the two of them are mature enough to handle this together. Hanson's the same age as our oldest, and we know that Ted recently moved with his girlfriend. Phoebe's an excellent student and a hard worker who has her head on straight. Therefore I approve."
I fall back into bed and drag a pillow over my face.
I don't believe what I'm hearing.
Christian climbs back on top of me and pulls the pillow away from my clutches.
"What is your deal, Mrs. Grey?" he says with that smoldering look that always makes me feel weak.
"What have you done with my megalomaniac husband?" I say lovingly.
"Baby, he's still in there," he says, pointing to his chest. "He's just older and more tired," he quips. I laugh. "I'm learning how to pick my battles. I also know that our daughter is dating a very trustworthy young man. Hanson has more than proven himself to me over the years."
Amazing. My sweet reformed Fifty Shades.
Wednesday, August 15, 2035
Ted
"Thanks so much for watching your little brother tonight, sweetie."
"Are you serious right now?" I smirk at my mother. "Really, it's no bother. Topher is my number one ace."
"We're going to have a blast with this guy," Diana eagerly chimes as she ruffles his little head. Topher darts away and scurries around the great room and through the kitchen while waving his arms and making little fighter plane noises.
My folks need to attend some fancy midweek fundraiser, so they asked if Diana and I could watch Topher. The Taylors had something else going on tonight, while the twins have midweek AP Calculus study group. Diana and I eagerly accepted the challenge.
Dad looks like a billion bucks in his navy tux. And Mom? Holy shit. Dad had better keep his woman on a leash tonight. She's slaying in a gown that's a single strap on her right shoulder that starts black on top before fading into a dark blue on the floor. Her back is exposed in between a series of four black straps with intricate beading. Her beautiful brown hair is placed up in a bun.
"Seriously, Ana…you're a total knockout. That dress is simply to die for," Diana gushes for the third time in five minutes.
"And I see that I'm chopped liver," Dad teases. I crack up laughing.
"Your extreme handsomeness goes without saying, Mr. Grey," Diana says sweetly. Mom laughs at the merciful complement.
"Hey…stop flirting with my old man," I say to my girlfriend with a faux frown. She brushes me off with a flip of her wrist.
"We shouldn't be longer than three hours. It is a work night for crying out loud," Mom sighs.
"We've got it handled. I promise," I reassure her.
"Call us if you need anything at all. We'll come back right away," Dad adds.
"Go," I snicker at the two of them. Overprotective parents, I swear. They relent and pin down Topher for a kiss before hugging Diana and I on their way out.
"So bud, what did you want to do before you go to bed in an hour?" I ask our little guest.
"Bed?! Noooo!" he caws with a devious grin before running around Diana and me in a rapid circle. Diana reaches out in an attempt to grab him, but he's lightening fast.
I team up with her and try to nail down the slippery little monster as he makes his way through the great room, past the grand piano, and through the kitchen.
"I'll get you, Topher!" Diana growls playfully.
"Don't let her catch you, or you'll have a wet-willy coming to you!" I call out to him in warning.
"Ewww! Nooo!" he calls back in a fit of giggles. He's dashing to and fro, non-stop.
Suddenly, I hear the chirp of a phone. It's Diana's.
"Time out," she says out of breath, but that doesn't stop Topher from running and me from chasing him. There were two times where I almost had him in my hands, but he would wiggle his way right through me.
While in pursuit, I quickly turn to see Diana studying her phone at the breakfast bar.
"Crap, it's work. I'd better take this," she says.
"Tell Larkin to stop bothering you with that Propel the Future debauchery," I heckle.
Finally, I grab Topher by the arm and tackle him down to the floor just outside of the kitchen.
"Nooo!" he cries out in defeat.
"Got you!" I say victory as I proceed to tickle him relentlessly. He giggles uncontrollably.
"I'll be glad when his PTF presentation is over and done with. I'll be right back," Diana sighs as she takes her phone towards our bedroom.
"Stop tickling me!" Topher cries out in a fit of laughs. I finally have mercy on him and quit just after ruffling up his hair. He tries to block me with his skinny little arms.
"I forgot to ask you about your swim class the last time I saw you," I say as we each catch our breath.
"I go again Saturday," he tells me.
"Sweet. Do you like it?"
"Yeah! It's soooo fun! I learn how to kick my feet. I got to play on the water slide and I got lots of water dumped on me," he rattles off in animated excitement.
"Dude, that sounds pretty amazing. I'm kinda jealous," I beam.
"Me and my friend Roman had so much fun there," he says with a bright smile.
I narrow my eyes. "Your friend's name is Roman? Is he a centurion guard or something?"
"No. I don't even know what that is," he giggles.
"Didn't think you did," I smile and wink.
After Diana concludes her brief call, the three of us indulge in my delicious bread pudding. It's my Mom's recipe. It came pretty close to Ana Grey's perfection, if I do say so myself.
An hour later, we all engage in a very competitive game of hide and seek. Twenty minutes later, Diana and I totally give up.
"Seriously, where did he go? We've looked everywhere," Diana sighs.
"I should've warned you. Topher Grey is the family's Hide and Seek Champion," I laugh. "He'll pop up. Eventually."
Soon afterwards, my parents surface from the elevator, escorted by Luke Sawyer.
"Is he in bed?" my mother smiles at the two of us.
"Funny you should ask. I think we've lost him. We were playing hide and seek," I say in embarrassment.
"Oh no," Mom sighs. She's well aware of how crafty her youngest can be in this masterful game of lost and found.
"I'll be back," Dad smirks as he marches away in his Gucci loafers.
Two minutes later, he emerges with a sleeping Topher Grey dangling lifelessly in his arms. "You two must've worn him out," my father grins with amusement.
"Well, my job here is done," I quip, dusting off my hands.
"Where did you find him? We looked everywhere," Diana says, flabbergasted.
"Christian has mastered all of the champ's secret hiding spots," Mom answers for him as she grabs Topher's bag of toys from the floor.
….
Thursday, August 16, 2035
I'm in my office on an afternoon video conference call with the good folks of Affinity Technologies in New York City. We're fairly close to making a deal to acquire them. With Affinity in our portfolio, we could make so many in roads in our quest to make the world a greener place.
As I sit behind my desk facing the video screen, which displays a group of ten men and women seated at a round table, my desk phone quietly buzzes. I look at the screen and see that it's the main reception desk. I narrow my eyes, wondering what it is they want. I hardly ever get calls from the front desk. Marco's assistants, Tara and Marie, usually filter all my front desk calls.
Two more minutes go by as the meeting starts to wind down. Soon, my desk phone rings once more. It's the front desk…again. Now I'm growing with concern.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I hope that we're all squared away for this next phase," I say in closing.
"We are, Ted. Thanks so much for your time. Looks like your phone's ringing off the hook over there," the VP chuckles. I sigh and roll my eyes.
"Yeah, it's never a dull moment here," I respond.
"We'll let you go then."
"I'll circle back with your team next week before the meeting with Marco and the rest of our leadership team," I tell them.
"Excellent. Please give our best to your parents. We look forward to working with them, as well as yourself," the President chimes in.
I nod. "Sure thing. Take care, everyone."
After we say our goodbyes and sign off, I pick up my desk phone and quickly dial the front desk.
"Mr. Grey?" the female receptionist utters before I can get a word in edgewise.
"Yes, did someone just call?"
"Sir, you have an unruly visitor down here who refuses to leave unless she sees you. We can call security if you'd like to escort her from the premises," she says in a very discrete tone of voice. It's rather oblivious that the person in question is very close by.
Holy shit, who in the world could it be?
The last time I had an 'unruly visitor' at work, I was a student at Stanford. It took an act of God to get Cheerleader Rebecca off my junk. I can't imagine her relapsing after all these years.
"Who is it?" I ask in a stark voice.
"She says that her name is Sophie Taylor?" the receptionist says in an uncertain tone of voice.
My heart feels as if it stopped pumping blood mid-beat.
Why is she even here?
Why does she want to see me?
I'm feeling things that I didn't think that I could ever feel again.
I feel lightheaded and woozy.
I feel sick and lost.
I feel violated.
And as I sit back and try to gauge what my physiological state is going through at the moment, it finally hits me dead center.
Sophie…Taylor? Not Sophie Glenn?
"Mr. Grey? Are you still there?" I hear faintly over the phone.
Why did she tell the front desk that her last name was 'Taylor'? Maybe it was for my benefit. Maybe she thought that I wouldn't know a Sophie Glenn. But little does she know, I really don't wish to face either Sophie.
But she's just downstairs. And what if my father sees her waiting for me in the lobby? What if her father sees her?
What about Diana.
Shit.
"I'll be right down," I tell her right before I hang up the phone.
With my heart nearly pounding through my chest, I make it down the escalator from the 15th floor. My stride is much longer as hurry over to the reception area.
Then I see her.
She's leaning against the sandstone with her hands covering her face. I scan down her length.
A blond head of hair.
Chipped nail polish.
An open red flannel shirt with a black t-shirt underneath.
Over-washed jeans.
Tattered sneakers.
Sophie doesn't look the same at all. She looks battle-weary. She looks torn down and ravaged. This girl before me isn't the same bright-eyed angel that I once knew – who happily ran with me through our meadow.
This girl has gone through some serious shit.
But through it all, her beauty still remains intact. It's so not fair that I can see her in this broken state and still be affected by her in some subliminal kind of way.
The receptionist clears her throat the moment she realizes that I'm standing in the lobby. Sophie lifts her eyes and then turns my way.
Those tortured blue eyes lock into mine and I feel completely lost. She's not wearing any makeup, so I can tell that she's been crying. A lot.
I don't know what to say to her. I have no words in this moment. This is a moment that I have dreamt of for over three years…and I have no fucking words.
"Teddy?" she gasps, almost weeping.
I stand there, frozen in time.
Soon I feel her arms wrap around me.
Why is she here?
I finally come to and pull her away from me, holding her at arm's length.
"Sophie, what's going on? Why are you…"
"Ted…I…I need to talk – can we please talk?" she says rattles with urgency and despair.
"Calm down. What happened?" I say, trying to ensure that she doesn't lose it any more in front of incoming and outgoing employees and guests.
I need to get her out of this lobby before someone who knows her sees her.
Before they see her with me.
"I…" she starts with her otherworldly blue eyes pooling in tears.
"Come," I tell her.
Taking her gently by the arm, I lead her down the hall and into a small conference room tucked away in back. Thankfully there are no windows facing the hall where anyone can see who's in there. I lock the door behind us.
She begins to shake before falling onto my neck.
Jesus – why is she clinging on to me this way?
It's unbearable.
"Sophie…what's going on?" I say, trying to remain as calm as I possibly can.
And there is this slight part of me that wants to yell at her.
The nerve of this girl walking back into my life after all these years.
She decimated my soul.
But there's a voice that calls out to me on a deeper level. It's the area within that still holds compassion for her.
Her smell.
I can still remember.
It hits me like a bolt of lightning.
"I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong," I say as she audibly shivers through the tears.
Finally, I feel her easing away and trying to stand on her own two feet. I reach into my suit pocket and hand her my handkerchief.
"I'm sorry," she weeps silently.
My nose crinkles in bewilderment.
She clears her throat, and pats down her face with the white cloth.
"I'm sorry for coming here," she says in a calmer tone.
Oh.
"I…didn't mean to interrupt you at work," she murmurs.
"What happened?" I ask again. "Sit," I urge, taking her by the arm and helping her down to one of the swivel chairs. I take the seat right next to her and roll in closer.
"I think that I'm about to lose my son," she drops the bomb.
Stop.
Hold up.
Wait a second.
Obviously there's three years' worth of information that I've missed out on. It's as if I just tuned in to the program three seasons in without being exposed to the first episode.
But before I ask for a rewind, I state obvious.
"Where's Aiden?"
This apparently triggers something as she places her elbows on the table in front of her and covers up her face.
"I really messed up," she says, muffled through her hands.
Yeah you fucking did.
I knew this guy wasn't shit from the moment I found out about him. Her dad knew that he wasn't shit. The only person who didn't know was her.
"What did he do to you?" I say quietly.
It's obvious that whatever happened, it has something to do with that shitty husband of hers.
I search the fingers currently glued to her face. There's no sign of a ring or a band. There's no tan line. Nothing.
I give her a few moments before she eases her hands down and wipes her face yet again.
"We never married," she finally speaks out.
What?
The news takes me by surprise.
"You…you never married?" I say, dumbfounded.
"No…we lived together. We rented a house right after the baby was born. Then he started getting heavy into drugs."
"Jesus Christ," I gasp, shaking my head in revulsion.
I knew this asshole was a druggy. And Diana knew it the second that she met him during our lunch together.
"I didn't understand his fascination…his addiction. I didn't get it. We had this marvelous beautiful baby boy in the home. That alone should've made him want to give that child everything. But he didn't care. He only cared about his next gnarly trip."
She's a ghost of her old self as she's recalling these horrific things to me. And all the while, I'm thinking: This is the choice that you made. You wanted this.
"Living with him got progressively worse," she says quietly.
This is painful.
I don't want to hear anymore.
"And when his money dried all up, he started stealing from me," she says with a fallen expression.
Whoa.
It explains why she's dressed the way she is. This girl has nothing left.
"And then when my money was all gone, he ventured into other things. Him and his druggie friends," she hisses quietly.
"Dammit, Soph. Why?"
It's all I can say. I have no other words for her allowing all of this to happen to her.
It didn't have to be this way.
She doesn't respond to my question, but she continues. "It wasn't until a stickup at the truck stop went wrong over a year ago when it all stopped. He was already on probation for a possession charge when he got arrested this last time. He got a mandatory ten years for armed robbery."
My eyes clamp down and I begin to shake my head.
"Sophie, Sophie, Sophie…" I chant over and over again.
"I know…I know…" she breathes as she starts to cry again.
I place my hand on her shoulder and rub it gently, and she leans into my touch.
Why am I even touching her?
My hand slows before falling back down into my lap.
"So you're a single mom now," I conclude.
After a few more audible sobs, she wipes her face once more before clearing her throat.
"I worked two jobs trying to keep things afloat. It was hard. My mother helped me with my son while I worked. But that didn't stop the bills from piling up. It got really bad," she says, shaking through the building tears.
The Sophie I knew wasn't this. The Sophie I once knew had her shit together. She had a plan and a goal. My Sophie wouldn't have gotten pregnant and engaged before setting her dream of moving to Chicago into motion.
This was a totally different Sophie.
A sad, pitiful Sophie.
There's a tragic reality that screams loud and clear in this moment. My father was right all along to keep us apart. He obviously knew how fragile I was back then, and how fragile she was – and still is.
Sophie and I weren't really meant to be together.
I sit there. Stoic. But still – I watch her. I wait for whatever else she has to say. I anticipate her real reason of intruding on my job and causing a disruption in the main lobby.
"I was missing my son. I was missing the simple life. A life without pressure. A life without expectations. I wanted to know what it felt like to not feel anymore," she says.
An ominous feeling comes over me.
"A coworker at the night auditing job I was working at – a small independent hotel, introduced me to oxycodone," she says with shame riddled all over her face.
My world stops.
"Fuck Sophie…are you joking?! Oxy?!" I say, raising my voice.
"I tried it once…just once. In that moment, I understood why Aiden couldn't kick the habit. But I didn't plan on ever doing it again. However, the night that I took it from my coworker, I was caught on camera."
"Jesus," I say, shaking my head for the umpteenth time.
The fucking hits just keep on coming.
"I got arrested, then fired. Then this…woman came along. I never met her – I swear. She works at the Department of Social Services. Say what you will about me, but I've never been bad mother. I love my son. I would die for my son."
She begins to cry again, but then she clears her throat and presses through.
"This woman must be a friend of Aiden's parents. I saw no reason for DSS to be called on me anyway since the exchange occurred at work. But apparently, they assumed that I ended up taking the drugs at home while my son was there."
I can't hear any more of this.
It's too much to take in all at once.
"Sophie…" I start in an attempt to make her stop heaping all of this bad shit onto me.
Why is she telling me all of this?
Why isn't she speaking to her father?
"They are trying to take my son away from me, Teddy! I can't let them do that! They are going to rip my baby from me and my mom! Please!" she grovels through her cries.
"What is it that you want me to do?" I say, practically throwing my hands up in the air. "You come here to see me after three years. I have no idea what's been going on with you. Then you spring all of this heavy shit on me. I…I don't know what to tell you, Soph. I don't."
The words just come tumbling out of me. It's almost everything I wanted to say for the past fifteen minutes.
She sits there, muddling through the tears. I can see it as a thought or a notion enters her mind. Her lips would quiver as if she was going to say something, but then she changes her mind.
After a few beats, she stands up. "I'm so sorry Teddy for being here. This was a bad idea."
She starts towards the door but I quickly stand grab her by the arm, stopping her.
"Do you want me to help you with legal fees or something?" I ask her.
She looks down at her feet and doesn't say anything.
"Have you spoken to your dad?" I finally ask. She shakes her head without looking up.
I figured.
"No one? Gail?" I add.
"They don't know. I stopped talking to them after Aiden and I got engaged. If they knew everything that happened to me because of him, they wouldn't want to help me."
"Bullshit, Sophie. They love you. They would absolutely help you," I snap back.
I realize when she tugs her arm that I'm still holding it. Still, I don't let go.
"It was a mistake coming here," she says with a distraught gaze.
"Where are you staying? Are you okay? Do you need money?" I rattle off, still holding her arm firmly.
"I'm fine," she says with a tight jaw. "I was just hoping that I could get some help to fight for…my son. It was foolish of me to come here."
"No, don't say that. Tell me what you need me to do," I plead softly to her, hoping that she calms down enough to finally voice her request to me. However at this point, she's already claimed defeat in her head. I can see it written all over her face.
"Its fine Ted," she says. "I'd like to go now. Please."
"Just one second," I say to her. After finally letting go of her, I reach into my pocket.
"My personal cell is on there. If you change your mind, give me a call," I say as I hand her my business card. "I prefer a phone call first before a surprise visit," I add with a sad smirk.
With one hand on the door's handle, Sophie eyes the card.
"Theodore R. Grey: Executive Manager of Merges and Acquisitions," she reads in whisper. "You're just a step away from Vice President. And it took you how long?"
I see a faint semblance of pride on her face.
She looks proud of me.
"I've been here full-time since January of 2033," I tell her.
"So two and a half years," she quickly calculates. She nods before sliding the card into the pocket of her jeans, and pulls the door open.
"I'll see you out," I tell her.
She holds out her hand, petitioning me to stay in place.
"That won't be necessary. I'll leave the way that I came in. Thanks Teddy," she says forlornly.
Sophie walks away without turning back, leaving me to stand there in place. I'm dumbfounded and left alone holding the proverbial bag for her yet again.
A/N: Good news – I wrote so much for this chapter that I had to split it up into two. Chapter 15 is already done. The bad news is that I'm going to be mean and hold off on posting it until I receive a decent amount of reviews in return from you guys.
As I've said in past stories, your feedback literally feeds ME. It's what keeps me encouraged as a writer. :) When I've put two chapters up at once in the past, I'd get gypped in the feedback department, haha! Therefore, once I see some decent chatter in the review section for chapter 14, I'll go ahead and post chapter 15.
Also, I've pinned a few things for this chapter on the Pinterest site (username: storietella under the Family Business board), so make sure to check it out. Also, don't forget to friend me on Facebook (username: storietella2) for discussions and previews to upcoming chapters. I'll also be doing a sneak peek there of my next story sometime later next month, so stay tuned for that.
Thanks for reading! – ST2