Page 44 of Beautiful Desire
Rolling my eyes, I heave a sigh and murmur, “Thanks.”
It’s not lost on me that I know next to nothing about Georgia, while she can read me like a book. She keeps everyone, except for a small select few, at an arm’s length, her entire life locked up behind an iron-clad gate, and it’s becoming increasingly frustrating that she won’t let me in, even a little bit, when she has access to all my insecurities and struggles, thanks to my fucking father. There’s a glaringly large power imbalance between us, and I don’t fucking like it.
“Why the hell won’t you give me anything, Georgia?” I finally ask when I can’t take it anymore. “Why is it so fucking hard to let me in? What are you so afraid of?
Georgia’s jaw pops as she cuts the fruit. “I’m not afraid of anything,” she bites out. “It’s just nobody’s business.”
I nod, sucking on my teeth. “Got it. I can see you naked and fuck you, but telling me anything about your past is too fucking personal. Cool.”
“Fletcher,” she sighs. “It’s not easy for me, okay?”
“And what? You think it’s a walk in the park, having you know everything about my struggles and insecurities?”
Her walls are firmly in place, and I’m not even a little bit surprised when she says, “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Rain check, right?” I mutter, but she doesn’t respond. The conversation is over.
By the time breakfast is ready, I don’t have much of an appetite anymore, but I’m able to force down a couple of pancakes and some bacon before leaving the house. Except it’s not the library I end up going to; it’s the gym, and I spend the next few hours taking all my pent-up aggression toward my dad and this fucking situation I’m in because of him out on the machines. It doesn’t help, though, because all I feel once I’m finished is anger toward myself for putting off this goddamn project for, yet again, another day.
20
Georgia
From: Georgia Astor
To: Alden St. James
Subject: Weekly Update
Alden,
I hopethis email doesn’t find you well.
Fletcher is making good progress. And it probably wouldn’t kill you to tell him every once in a while that you’re proud of him. You know, like a father is supposed to do.
PS.If you could please send over the documents I asked you foryesterday, that’d be great.
Coldest regards,
Georgia
From:Alden St. James
To: Georgia Astor
Subject: RE: Weekly Update
Good morning Georgia,
I seeyou’re back at it, with the completely unsolicited parenting advice, but once again, I assure you, Fletcher doesn’t need to hear I’m proud of him. Especially not when he hasn’t done anything to make me proud. If I’m not mistaken, there is still plenty of time for him to screw this up and fail.
P.S. I think it would do you good to remember what’s on the line, Georgia. Remember what you need from me. So I suggest you keep your snarky suggestions to yourself next time. It would be a shame if something happened and your little precious store became something a whole lot more useful and profitable for me.
Best,
Alden
“Who the fuckdoes he think he is?” I bark to nobody but myself as I sit in my office with the door closed.
