A week crept by slowly, I found out Monday morning what exactly the office had been threatening; Patrick’s name was blasted across business pages everywhere proclaiming that the CFO had engaged in money laundering, bribery, and before coming to his mother’s company he had worked in the UK with other family members as a criminal lawyer to several well-known mafia and crime organization figureheads. Honestly, it was pretty tame. Obviously, it was shitty, but it wasn’t human trafficking or funding corrupt corporations. I had already known about the money laundering, so did most of the business world – there was a reason that Bower & Rosing’s was popular with so many casinos and mega-corporations.
I had little contact with both Jon and Patrick after everything was broadcasted, I wanted to keep a safe distance until it mostly blew over. For now, Patrick was on probation and not allowed on office grounds and Jon was working double shifts every day trying to finish negotiations and avoid an actual court battle. It was while watching a news feed and listening to the hosts discuss various scandals the company had gone through that I decided to write my resignation. It was the right time, and I think Jon knew it too.
I dressed as professionally as possible; I wore my one and only tailored black pantsuit with heels and pulled my hair back in a sleek ponytail. I had even gone light on my makeup and pulled out a leather satchel to complete my look. In a way, it felt like I was breaking up with someone and I was trying to show that I still had other options without them.
“Lydia,” Jessa greeted cheerily. “Hey, I didn’t expect you in today, I thought you were off sick?”
“Change of plans,” I offered with a nonchalant shrug and smile. “Is Mr. Harris in the HR office?”
“Yeah, the twentieth floor with Joanne and Charles, they should be out in a minute though.”
I thanked her and squared my shoulders as I strode into the elevator. A surprising amount of people filed in behind me, I glanced around at the people I had known for almost a year, the first people I had met after moving back to New York from California, and I was about to leave them behind. They might not have found it emotional, but I did, though that could have been more about the weird shit my body was going through since coming home from the clinic. Something else I still hadn’t told them about. I could think about it without crying now, but it still made my heartache.
Quietly the elevator dinged and I steeled myself as I approached the office doors. I could hear them talking, their voices muffled, and took a seat in the mini waiting room. I didn’t have to wait long before Jon and Charles stepped out, whispering to each other in hushed tones.
“I’ll come by later and we can discuss it with him, he needs to see reason,” Charles said in exasperation.
“I’ll let him know. I can’t promise that he’ll be cooperative though,” Jon replied looking tired.
“Mr. Harris,” I said as I stood up and clutched my bag in front of me. “Do you have a moment?”
They both looked up, as if only just noticing me. Jon’s eyebrows shot up as he took me in and Charles greeted and said goodbye to us in the same breath before taking off down the corridor.
“Lydia,” Jon said with mild surprise. “I didn’t expect you here today, but yes, I have a minute.”
“In private,” I clarified as he gazed at me expectantly.
“Private…alright,” he murmured and guided us back to the elevator.
We walked in silence, the ride up was eerie and as he stood behind me I couldn’t help but think about how many times the two of us had ended up alone in one, and how it started our entire relationship. I hope he thinks about that too. I liked the idea of him feeling attached to something so dumb – feeling an emotional attachment to an elevator because that’s where he first groped his assistant. I had to suppress a giggle but I couldn’t stop my smile and I could see him watching me with mild amusement.
When we got into his office I poured us both a drink and sat down across from him, the massive oak desk separating us and making me feel somewhat intimidated.
“Are you going to break up with me while drinking my scotch?” he teased as he took a sip.
I smirked down at the shiny, lacquered surface and toyed with my glass. “Sort of. I think you already know what I’m going to tell you.”
“You’re leaving the company.”
“I am.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised, or that I blame you,” he replied. “But it is sad to see you go, dove. If you ever wanted another position, you always have a place here.”
My throat tightened and I fought to stay calm. “I know, Daddy,” I said quietly. “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” he defended. “No, I couldn’t be mad about you for doing what you need to do. I wish you would stay, but I know it would be difficult to return to work after this.”
I don’t know how to thank you for always being calm and reasonable. “Is Pat mad at me?”
Jon looked away, a shadow crossing his face that he quickly attempted to mask. “He’s not mad, but he’s lonely and hurting right now. He misses you and wishes that you would call him…”
“And you do too,” I supplied. With a sigh, I sat back in my chair and toyed with the brass buttons on my jacket. “We all need to talk…I just needed time to process. I need to know before I talk to either of you that no one is going to be mad at me for not saying anything earlier this week.”
Jon smiled and reached out across the desk for my hand, I knew the waterworks were coming and as I glanced up into his eyes the tears started to ooze down my cheeks. Instantly he lost his smile and was up and around the desk, pulling me into his arms. I held him tightly, my arms looped up under his as I gripped his shoulders. Jon had his face buried in my hair, stroking my back soothingly.
“Dove, it’s alright,” he whispered softly. “No one’s mad at you. We’re here for you when you’re ready.”
“It’s not alright,” I sobbed, my chest heaving as I sucked in air desperately. “It’s not, Jon, and everyone keeps saying that it is and don’t know how to cope—” I dissolved into hysteria, shaking and clutching at him in fear that if I let go he would leave.
Jon didn’t say anything, just continued rubbing my back and held me tighter. We stayed together like that for a long time, my head hurt from crying so much and felt childish for clinging to him but I wasn’t ready to let go.
The harsh, metallic sound of the speaker broke us apart, Jessa’s voice cutting through the silent room.
“Mr. Harris, I have Morgan Feldman here in the lobby – would you like me to send him up?”
I pulled away reluctantly and let Jon hit the speaker button, he glanced back at me before he did, as if looking for reassurance. I offered him a slight nod and wiped my face with my sleeve.
“Thank you, Jessa, please keep him down there and I’ll be down in a minute,” he answered.
I hated Morgan. I could see how sleazy he was now, and I knew he must have always been on the side of the board. Part of me wanted to beg the older man not to talk to him, but I knew it would be fruitless and ultimately wouldn’t help Patrick.
“Dove,” Jon said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Patrick’s back at my apartment; if I page the car will you at least stop by to see him?”
I bit the corner of my lip and mulled it over. Am I ready to tell them? I didn’t know if I would ever be ready, because no matter how irrational the thought was, I did worry that they would blame me in some way.
“Okay,” I relented. “I brought my car here, so either you’re driving it back to your place or I’m not taking the Maybach.”
Jon laughed and caught my chin, tilting my head up for a quick kiss. “I’ll take it, you go relax in the Pullman.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and I rested my head on his shoulder as we walked to the elevator together. “Here, you take the private one straight to the garage.”
“Alright,” I replied before turning and pulling him in for a kiss on the cheek. “I’m still quitting, Jon, that’s not changing.”
“I know, and I understand.” He paused and gave my ass a light smack. “Now get going, I want you back the apartment before you start crying again.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled and boarded the elevator alone. I wished he was coming with me, but I knew I would get to see him later and for now, that gave me time alone with Patrick.
The ride to Jon’s apartment was quick, thank god, and relatively smooth. I didn’t text Pat beforehand, I wanted to surprise him. There were a few paparazzi outside and the driver took me straight into the garage to avoid them. Part of me was distressed at the sight of them but I pushed it away, I needed to get upstairs and see him. It had hit me so suddenly that I wanted to see him, that I wanted to apologize for my bitchy behaviour and feel his warmth.
I made it up and into the apartment without running into anyone, the lobby was empty, so was Jon’s foyer, and everything was dark. In confusion I wandered around the first floor; nobody was there and the staff quarters were locked off for privacy. I found Patrick’s jacket in the sunroom, the size difference easily identifiable between him and Jon’s clothes.
I quietly slipped off my shoes and padded upstairs. Jon’s door was shut, but the spare beside his was ajar. The room was nearly pitch black and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust, slowly Pat came into focus; he was lying on the covers in his boxers and a t-shirt. How long has he been staying here? Clearly, it had been a few days, I mean he even brought a bag full of clothes. I guess the better question was how long he planned on staying.
I stood watching him for a moment or so longer before I slipped my jacket off and carefully rested it on the chair, trying to make as little noise as possible as I climbed onto the bed and then his lap. Leaning forward, I kissed his cheek gently and felt him stir under me, shifting and groaning slightly as he went to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, his eyes struggling to stay open. “I missed you, I missed you so much…”
He kept repeating it over and over, holding me to his chest and raining kisses down my cheek, neck, and over my shirt across my breasts. My head felt fuzzy as he continued on and I dissolved into a fit of giggles as he rolled us over. He didn’t try to undress me or even anything sexual, just kissed every inch of me, focusing longer on my cheeks and jaw more than anything. It felt like being worshiped, I felt special and powerful and desired. This is how they feel when I’m kneeling in front of them, I realized, the thought startled me. Of course, this was how they felt, and it was almost addictive – I didn’t want him to ever stop.
“I love you,” he praised, his forehead pressed to my abdomen and lips tickling me through my shirt.
And then it stopped. The sensation of being worshipped was cruelly stripped away and the feeling loss came barrelling in to replace it. In another life, he could’ve been talking to a baby, our baby, and it felt like a knife tearing through me. The tears came back hot and fast, spilling down and into my fanned-out hair. I started to tremble as I held back my sobbing, I drew in one shaky breath too loudly and Patrick froze.
“Lydia?” he asked cautiously. “Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?”
Patrick sat up and pulled me onto his lap, I covered my face with my hands as I fell apart again. I just wanted it to stop, to feel okay for even one day and not be a sobbing mess, just once.
“I had to do something,” I gasped out, wiping desperately at the constant flow of snot and tears. I had to look like a disgusting mess and I had never felt so less in control of myself. “And I want to tell you, but it’s really hard—” I broke off buried my face in the hollow of his throat, breathing in the scent of him and his cologne for support while I tried to piece myself back together enough to finish a sentence.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetheart, take your time,” he soothed.
“I—” I froze again but only for a second. “I had to get an abortion.” My voice was barely a whisper, but it felt both horrible and freeing to admit it out loud. I wasn’t ashamed, but I was horribly distressed at the abruptness of it, of my lack of control, at the one thing I had wanted more than anything else for nearly a decade being so tantalizingly close being ripped away in the span of maybe two hours.
“It was because of my IUD and I couldn’t do anything else, and Maritza came with me because I had no idea what was happening…” I kept on, it all came out so fast that I wasn’t sure if he would even understand me with the way my voice kept getting higher and more frantic.
Patrick stayed silent as I told him everything, I repeated myself a lot and went into horrific detail as it poured out of me. I needed this more than anything, I realized as I finished, I needed to tell him, to tell someone. I realized then that I probably shouldn’t have cancelled my counsellor appointment, maybe if I hadn’t I would be able to talk about it without sounding so hysterical.
When he finally spoke, he was soft and reassuring, not at all what I expected. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry that you went through that alone, baby, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to be with you.”
You’re sorry? I expected anger, resentment, frustration at my angry outbursts, it never occurred to me that he would really be supportive and want to take care of me. As my Master, he always did that, but it surprised me that regular Pat would hold me and rock me back and forth. I leaned into him, nuzzling into his stubble and he kissed my hair. I could’ve come to him sooner, I could’ve been in his or Jon’s embrace and took my time to heal instead of locked in my bedroom for a week bingeing on mac and cheese and all other junk food I could get my hands on.
“You’re not mad?” I asked after a few minutes, once the tears had mostly subsided.
“Of course, I’m not mad,” he replied, pulling away and gawking at me in a mix of horror and shock. “Lydia, why would I ever be mad at you for this? It wasn’t your fault, baby, if anything it was mine and Jon’s for not bothering with condoms…”
I adjusted myself so I was straddling his lap with my arms wrapped about his shoulders. “It’s not your fault,” I murmured. “It’s not our fault. It can’t be.”
Patrick stroked my hair, lightly brushing his fingers through the locks with a far off look in his amber eyes. “Your roots are showing,” he said suddenly. A blush instantly spread across his face and I smirked at his obvious embarrassment. “I didn’t mean for that to come across rude, I like the colour, I’m just surprised. Now I just feel like I’m digging myself into a hole…”
I laughed, it felt good, freeing. “It’s fine, I know I need to touch it up,” I said as I reached up to the light brown roots self-consciously. “It feels good to laugh,” I said more quietly.
“It’s good to hear you laugh,” he countered, offering a full smile, his most charming smile. “I didn’t think that you were going to come back, I honestly thought I was losing everything. I’m glad you’re here though, and I wish I hadn’t been so harsh to you on Sunday night.”
What do you mean ‘everything’? “Lose everything how?” I asked, my brow furrowed.
“I can’t go back to the office, Lydia, it’s not an option. With this out in the open, there’s no way I can go back. They’ll either push me into Japan or keep from any public-facing role. It’s just a better choice to take the settlement and leave quietly.” He shrugged like it was no big deal to leave a multi-billion-dollar company.
“No,” I protested. “You can’t just give up like that, you can’t just leave a company created by your family—”
“Dia, sweetheart, there is no way for me to come back from this. I did everything they accused me of, there is a long and well-documented paper trail. I don’t have a case. I can walk away with an eight-figure settlement or I can start a court battle and drain my own bank account.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just stayed silent. Patrick watched me with resignation, one hand cupping my cheek, the other resting on my ponytail. “Is that what Jon and Charles are doing right now then? Negotiating your settlement?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Jon was able to strongarm several employees into silence with NDAs about us, so I don’t need to worry about them pursuing a sexual misconduct charge, and without that, they can’t do much. I was working with the company when I was doing freelance work as a criminal lawyer, they knew what was going on, and I wasn’t the one that initiated the money laundering or the bribery.” He paused and swept his hair back, looking more pissed off. “They ruined my social standing and I’ll never work with another law firm, but they don’t have a legal case to pursue and if they want me out then they’ll have to pay.”
“I quit today,” I told him. “I gave Jon my resignation because I knew I couldn’t handle going back. I feel bad that you lost your job because of me and I just left like it was nothing.”
Patrick started to laugh, a breathy laugh at first before full bellowing and shaking. Suddenly he fell back against the mattress and pulled me with him, I squealed in surprise and started to giggle myself – his laughter was infectious. “Oh, aren’t we a great pair,” he said finally, his hand over his face as he sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been jobless…”
“Jon will put you to work,” I teased. “You can be the new butler.”
“Haha,” he mocked. “You’re so funny.”
“Maybe he’ll even put you in a maid outfit,” I continued with a broad smile. “I’d pay to see that.”
“Only if you wear one first,” he countered, his eyes suddenly blazing.
I felt the now-familiar ache of loss and glanced down, unable to meet his intense gaze. “I don’t want to have sex, probably not for a while. You get that, right?”
“Of course, I do,” he said sounding mildly offended. “Sweetheart, I didn’t expect you to just strip down for me right this instant. Jon won’t either.”
I should’ve thought better of him. It’s not like he hadn’t earned my respect, I needed to try harder to give him that. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“You know you can.”
“Jon already has a kid, but would you ever want one?” Or two, maybe three or four. I was an only, and I wanted a bunch of kids, close together preferably. Part of me didn’t want to hear his answer, every other guy I had been with hated the mention of it and I would be heartbroken to find out that neither of them wanted at least one.
“If you had asked me a few years ago, I would’ve said no, but I’m getting older and I’ve thought a lot about what I’m leaving behind,” he spoke slowly and deliberately, measuring out every word. I held my breath, my heart skipping one painful beat after another. “When you’re ready, all you have to do is tell me. I won’t say no.”
“Not right now,” I agreed eagerly, feeling as though I was filled with air about to float away with the sudden thrill. “Probably not for a long while, but I want one. Definitely more than one.”
“Start at one,” he cautioned with a sly smile. “I’m not trying to fill a mini-van, but I don’t think I could say no to you either way.”
I grinned and held his face, kissing him chastely. “Telling Jon is going to be weird.”
“I think we’re well past the weird stage,” Pat said dryly. “What if he wants another baby?”
“Why would he?” I asked incredulously. “He has a fully grown child, I doubt he wants to do it all over again.”
“But what if he does?” Patrick pressed.
“We can talk about it then, but I think we have enough to talk about for tonight.”
“More than enough,” he agreed.
We stayed like that until Jon came home and found us cuddling on the bed. He was just as horrified and desperate to be there for me as Patrick had been, and I felt so loved and cared as I laid between the two of them that I wasn’t sure I’d ever leave. Maybe Allie and Vicki were onto something with that whole moving in together deal.