Page 15 of A Forgotten Promise

“Hold on.” I put the phone on the vanity, grab two Advils, and chase them down with water. I wince at my reflection. I aged ten years in the last few months.Thank you very much, Dad.

Returning to my room, I fall back into my bed and put the phone to my ear. The pills are not working yet, but the glass of water humanized me enough to deal with Roxy.

The woman in my bed groans and pulls the pillow over her head.

Roxy tuts. “Sorry to interrupt the main program, but you’re to play golf with Donovan Hale in ninety minutes.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you call me sooner?” I bark, and hang up on the background of her laughter as she says ‘you’re welcome’.

I shake my head and playfully slap the woman beside me. She groans again.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I have to go to work. Get moving.” I jump out of the bed and pull the covers from her body.

“Hey.” She peeks from under the pillow. “It’s Saturday.”

“Sorry.” I shrug. “I’ll call you tonight.” My smile is more honest than my words. But the combo seems to appease her enough to rise.

“Can I at least shower?”

“No time for that. I’m really sorry. I’ll have my driver drop you off and pick you up again tonight at seven.”

She pouts, but starts collecting her clothes.

“I need to get ready. Just close the door on your way out.”

She pouts even more, but I disappear to the bathroom.

I desperately need to shave and shower, but grooming doesn’t seem as important as decreasing my rude lateness. I splash my face and brush my teeth before I dash to my closet.

My last-night companion intercepts me on her way out of my bedroom. At least she finally understands the urgency, and only sends me an air kiss. “See you tonight.”

Fuck, I hope she won’t steal anything on her way out. It would serve me right for bringing her here. What was I thinking?

I wasn’t. I’ve been numbing the pain of my father’s betrayal with copious amounts of alcohol, and some recreational drugs. The fucking numbing is fleeting. The consequences are lasting, and keep piling up.

I get dressed in record time, but a quick check of my Rolex makes me dial Roxy again.

“The helicopter will be there in five,” Roxy says before I can speak.

I sigh, hanging my head. “Thank you.”

“I expect a bonus with my next paycheck.” This time,shehangs up.

I don’t have time to contemplate her behavior, or mine, because the rhythmic thumping of the helicopter blades chopping through the air propels me to action.

During the hour-long flight to the Fishers Island Club, I text my assistant. Luckily, Roxy hired Larissa and trained her well, so I don’t have to bother with explanations.

Send a gift to the same address my car drove this morning.

Larissa

Flowers or jewelry?

Flowers only.

The card should apologize for not making it tonight.

You’re a douchebag, Quinn.The thought surprises me, because when have I ever felt any remorse for my actions?

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