Page 65 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

I nod towards my office.

Shutting the door behind him, I ask, “What is it?” He sits in my chair, putting his mug on my desk as I hover by the door, waiting.

“Scott Technologies.”Yeah. “It’s time to turn and burn.”Fuck. The plan has been to disinvest for months, but now that the time is here, all I can do is stare at the ceiling, thinking.

“You’re worried what’ll happen to her, aren’t you?”Yeah. I would likely never stop worrying about her. I stare at him, though. His look, in turn, is a blatant accusation that I still love Jess enough to lose millions. And I do.

“We’re not gonna do it,” I say with finality.

Blanks scoffs at my decision, shaking his head. “It’s like you hate money.”

I don’t hate it. I just don’t care about it. Certainly not more than I care about her. He leans back in the chair, “So we’re just gonna keep funneling millions into his company until we run dry?”No.

“Tell the board we want a new CEO, give Damian a golden parachute, and then we’ll sell it.” No one gets hurt.

“So much for revenge…” he trails off. It was never about revenge, at least not until recently. I bought Damian’s company so my sister could take half its worth and leave him.

When he and Jess got together…maybe the focus shifted. The new goal was to chunk it off, sell until nothing was left, sink the ship, and devalue the company.

I can’t put Jess through that, though.

“Jesus, you still love her that much?” I’ll likely never stop. I can’t. I know because I’ve tried. It’s not that I don’t also love Emma because I do.

“Why does it matter to you?” I ask.

He shakes his head, shoving the chair back as he stands. He pushes past me, slamming the office door shut on his way out.

Two things could be true at once. I know that. But why do I feel so fucking guilty for loving both of them all of a sudden?

Emma

When the door slams shut, I scurry into the pantry, pretending to look for the granola. The bag of granola that’s right in front of my face.

When I turn around, he’s there. He steps inside the walk-in pantry with me, and my heart stops beating altogether. I can’t breathe, and every sense is heightened. The smell of him. The gleam of his blue eyes. The sound of his ragged breath. It’s like I can see every fiber on his flannel shirt pressed against his hard chest. My skin practically vibrates. With anticipation, with want, with pain.

“You should have run away from him when you had the chance, Angel.” He shakes his head, the disappointment apparent. “Take care of yourself. And when he burns you…” He pauses, swiping a thumb along my jawline, “I just hope you canland on your feet.” I want to reach out and hold onto the hand that’s nearly cradling my face.

“And what about you?” I ask his back as he turns to leave me.

“I’ll always be fine, Angel. Don’t worry about me.” He misunderstands my question. I wondered if he would be there, on the other side, but he thought I was asking if he would be okay after Alex’s burns.

But he would be fine, wouldn’t he? There was alwayssomemodel, right?

There was Kate, the brown-haired goddess he took to the Met Gala.

There was Irene, who spent the month of July at his house in the Hamptons. She absolutely ate in her red, white, and blue bikini.

And then there was Anya, his on-again-off-again ride-or-die.

I didn’t know Blanks was a socialite until a quick Google search showed more Page Six mentions than I had time to read. Maybe socialite isn’t the right word. New York’s fuck boy is more accurate.

And he nails it. Fuck, he could nail anything, I bet.

I can’t bring myself to say goodbye, and he doesn’t say it either. He just walks out of the pantry and out of my life. This time, I have a feeling it’s for good. Andthat isfor the best.

Because his eyes, watching me come apart…I’ve never come so hard in my life. I wanted to scream, an almost feral energy radiating through me, but I stayed silent, not wanting to take my eyes off him, lookingat me. Looking at me like he hated me but, in the same breath, wanted to be the one inside of me.

God, he confuses me. Makes my skin crawl. And yet, I’ve never wanted to forget him. Not for one second because every time he talks, looks, or touches, I feel this spark of energy. Like I’m actually living and not just going through the motions.