Her coworker, April, appeared to take a special glee in turning me away. She always had this huge smile on her face, pissing me off even more. She knew it too. I could tell.
Finally, I’d given up on making myself look pathetic. I got very angry at Victoria, even told myself that I didn’t need her. That I was better than her. After all, I was a rich CFO with my whole life ahead of me, standing to be the sole beneficiary to an empire. There wasn't a girl on the planet that wouldn't want to be with me.
Except one. The one I wanted.
She needed me. I didn't need her, I told myself. She’d regret her decision for the rest of her life. I just knew it.
Distraught, I turned to alcohol to numb the pain of our break up. I felt weak for doing it, but I could find no other respite.
Sure, I could've gone out and had revenge sex with every willing slut that I could find. After all, isn't that what Victoria thought of me? A manwhore who couldn’t keep his big dick in his pants?
Maybe I was once that man, but strangely enough, those things no longer interested me. I wanted one thing and one thing only.
Victoria.
My phone beeped, drawing me out of my reverie.
Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I grabbed it off the night stand, this time knocking over the bottle of Vodka.
I’ll just have Jonathan clean it up, I thought as the smell of alcohol hit my nostrils.
It took several seconds for my fuzzy mind to read the reminder I’d set on my phone.
ARMEX meeting today.
“Shit,” I muttered.
* * *
“You looked like shit today in the meeting,” Jeff hissed. “What is wrong with you?”
Me and my fellow colleague were sitting in my office after a nearly disastrous meeting where I’d been unable to read my report without stumbling over my words. It’d gotten so bad that my dad had to step in to save me from further embarrassing myself.
He hadn't looked too happy about that. In fact, he looked like he wanted to choke me with his bare hands. I knew that we were going to have words later, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
I was barely holding it together as it was.
I lowered my head to my desk and groaned. “Don't you have something better to do? I don't want to hear this shit."
"Well, you're going to hear it, because I've never seen you act so disgusting inside that room before. And the only reason why you're still sitting in that chair and not out looking for a job is because of your father.”
I looked up, then winced a second later as my temples pounded. The four Tylenol I'd taken before the meeting had done little to alleviate my misery. "That's not true," I croaked. "I'm here because I'm valuable.”
Jeff snorted. "Listen to yourself, Tyler! Get a grip and come back to planet Earth. It’s time to stop disrespecting your father and this company!"
Anger surged through me. "Who the fuck are you to judge me, huh?" I snarled, immediately regretting it as a sharp pain sliced through my skull. Seriously, it felt like someone took an axe and brought it down on the top of my head with all the force they could muster. "You have no fucking idea what I'm going through."
Jeff let out a peal of derisive laughter. "Oh, poor little baby and his first world problems. Did the latest slut decline letting you bang her brains out and your little ego is bruised?"
Seriously, the only thing keeping Jeff from being thrown through my window and falling sixty stories was the lancing pain in my skull.
"Get over it," Jeff continued, unaware how lucky he was to be alive. He stood, straightening his tie at his neck. "You're a disgrace."
He turned and walked out of my office, slamming the door behind him. The sound of it made my head hurt even worse.
Asshole.
Despite my anger at Jeff, deep down I knew he was speaking the truth. I had to get my shit together.
Fast.
Chapter 22
Tyler
"Victoria is busy," April said to me. She gave me that ha-ha asshole, you'll never talk to her again smirk. "But I can give her a message if you'd like?"
After a couple of days of torment, I'd stopped the drinking, cleaned myself up, and decided on a new course of action.
I'd driven myself—something I almost never do—over to Victoria's workplace. When I asked the receptionist on the first floor to ring me in to Victoria's work phone, April had appeared instead to take a message.
I swear the girl had become Victoria's bodyguard, appearing out of the woodwork whenever I showed up, intent on making sure that I didn't get anywhere near her.
I eyed her with a cool grin on my face, not letting her think she was getting to me. Not even that long ago, I'd have been eager to wipe that smirk off of the little tart’s face . . . and I’m not talking about with my hand or with violence.
“She needs to hear something directly from me, not from a message. If she doesn’t want to speak to me again after that, I’ll never bother her again.”