Page 130 of Waiting for Acceptance
FITZ
After sitting with Frank until I couldn’t see straight, one simple phone call from the ranch gave me clarity on what the final stipulation would be for the contract we rewrote. The plan Frank and I have set in place has given me an insurmountable peace, which was all I needed before storming into my parent’s house to let them know exactly what I think about the shit they’ve been trying to pull.
“Oh, Mr. Fitz, we weren’t expecting you today.” My parents' housekeeper greets me with a smile, turning a bit worrisome when she sees my hardened features.
“Nice to see you, Mags. Tell the kids I say hi, won’t you?” I give her a quick smile, seeing her instantly relax, then walk into the sunroom. My parents are sitting on opposite chairs, Mom is flipping through a magazine while Dad looks at something on his phone. From the way he’s swiping, I can only assume he’s playing some sort of game.
“Fitz, honey! We didn’t know you were coming by today.” My mother abandons her magazine, walking over to me, while my father simply looks at me over his glasses. Before my mother cancome in for a hug I hold my hand up to her, glaring at her in a way I can only hope she feels pricking her skin.
“Well, that’s why they call it the element of surprise, Mother.” She rears back, glancing at my father quickly before turning back to me.
“Is everything alright? You seem…tense.”
“Tense? No. Livid. Yes.” My father pockets his phone, finally standing from his chair to show interest in my presence.
“What is this about?” he asks, seeming bored by my answer already.
“Lauren left me. Any idea why she may have done that?” I ask, rhetorically.
“Well, honey, maybe she finally realized she doesn’t belong in this world.” I glare at my mother. “I mean, we all saw you with Jessica at the party Saturday night. She probably came to her senses and ended things before she got too attached.” The audacity for her to lie straight to my face has my blood boiling.
“What about me? Huh? What if I was attached? Do you really not care about what I want? In any area of my life?”
My father scoffs, causing a raging fire to shoot down my spine. “Don’t go getting sensitive about a piece of ass, son. You’ll do just fine without her.”
I take a calculated step towards my father, meeting him eye to eye. “Don’t youeverspeak that way about the woman I love,everagain. I don’t care who you are, I will knock all of your teeth out, so help me god.”
He chuckles darkly, putting his hands on his hips. “I’d read your contract a little more carefully boy, before making threats that bold.”
“Oh I read the contract. I have no interest in merging The Fitzgerald Firm with Vanderbilt Hotels, or marrying Jessica to do so. Frank can have the company, we sent the new contract to your lawyer this morning. As soon as it’s approved which—”I look down to check my watch. “Should be happening any time now. I’m no longer obligated to be your little puppet.”
“Have you lost your mind? After the years of work we’ve put into this company, you’re willing to just give it away? For what? Forher?” Disapproval drips from his tone.
“No. You’re right. I wouldn’t just give it away.” I see relief wash over him, but only for a moment. “I would burn the whole fucking company to the ground, for her. She is the single best thing to ever happen to me, and the fact that you’d willingly destroy that just to make yourself look good; makes me embarrassed to be your son.” My mother stands frozen next to us, looking a mix of ashamed and scared. Meanwhile, my father just looks completely unphased. Fucking sociopath.
“Then consider the papers signed. Frank can have the company. I know he’ll do right by it.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, clicking away as he takes his seat, ignoring me completely.
I look at my mother who is nervously twisting the pearl bracelet around her wrist, and a piece of my heart seems to chip. Like a fragile teacup that’s been hit on the edge of a counter. “Gran and Pops would be so disappointed in you.” Her lip quivers, but she composes herself again quickly, taking her seat and flipping through her magazine. I think of a million things I want to say to both of them before I go. How I want to scream at them and ask why they never cared? Why they still don’t. How they could let the love of my life walk out the door and beproudof what they’ve done to us. Instead, I turn on my heel and walk out the front door, for what will likely be the very last time. I call Lauren again, but of course, she doesn’t answer. I’ve lost count of how many calls have gone unanswered, or how many texts have been left unread.
When I finally get back home, after spending the last two nights on the couch in my office, reality sets in even further. Isee the key I gave her on the island and the Taylor Swift record we’d been listening to while getting ready Saturday on the record player. The blanket I got her when she was sick is tossed across the back of the couch as well as one of her claw clips on the coffee table.
Fuck, I wish she’d just have come home.
I walk over to my bar cart, grabbing a bottle of scotch before falling onto the couch. Her blanket still smells like her shampoo and body lotion and I feel myself on the verge of tears as I lay my head back on it. Breathing her in, even though she isn’t here, feels like the cruelest form of punishment when I can’t reach over and pull her into my lap. I turn the bottle up, unlocking my phone to call her—again—hoping one of these times, she’ll answer and I can tell her everything will be okay.
CHAPTER 66
LAUREN
It’s embarrassing how long it took me to get myself to work this morning. I cried from the time I got in the shower, until I pulled into the parking lot, my tears returning with force when I realized the acquisition was complete and the rebranding had already begun. His name is going to be everywhere today, and I’m supposed to keep my composure somehow. My hair is a mess since I let it dry naturally, it looks somewhere between a lion’s mane and a pom pom, and my face is completely free of makeup. I didn’t quite see a point in wearing any since I knew I would end up with tear streaks anyway.
“Honey, youknowyou’re my icon, but you lookrough.” Luther closes the door behind him as he walks into my office, taking a seat in one of the armchairs across from my desk.
“Thanks, Luther. At least I know I look how I feel.” I give him a tired smile and his brows pull together.
“Tell me everything.” He beckons his fingers, encouraging me to talk.
I let out a tired sigh. “I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to explain,again, how I got my heartbroken, but I’ll be okay.”
