Page 99 of Waiting for Acceptance
“Trouble, you deserve so much more than me.” I place my bowl on my nightstand and crawl onto his lap, tucking a still-wet piece of hair behind my ear. I cup his face in my hands and plant a soft kiss on his lips. No words are exchanged, we simply kiss, then he tucks me under his arm, I grab my bowl of soup, and we watch Netflix until we fall asleep.
Best. Tuesday. Ever.
CHAPTER 50
FITZ
Lauren watches from the barstool as I finish placing the pie crust onto the top of the chicken pot pie I’m making for dinner. I have to admit, I’m pretty proud of my work, and I think Gran would be too. So long as it comes out tasting like Gran’s, I’ll be happy.
“So…you can cook.” I throw the kitchen towel over my shoulder and face her, after setting the timer on the microwave.
“Yes, I can cook.” Her eyes narrow on me.
“I hate to say this, but I totally took you for the type to order takeout on the nights you’re not at some fancy-ass dinner making big business deals.”
I can’t help but laugh at how accurate that is most of the time. “Well, you’re not entirely wrong. Actually, you’re kind of spot on. When I’m in New York that’s exactly what I do. When I’m here, I basically live on room service or restaurants near my hotel since my father didn’t put me up in a room with a kitchen. Apparently, he thinks I should be able to survive in a room with a mini fridge and a microwave for what? Seven months?”
“You haven’t had a home-cooked meal since you came here?” Her eyes widen and I shrug.
“And long before that. I don’t typically cook for myself.”
“Why not? That soup was the best soup I’ve ever had and if the smell of that pot pie says anything about how it’s going to taste, then you’re a solid cook.” I smile at the praise.
“Cooking was something I always did with Gran and Pops—mostly Gran—but cooking alone just made me feel…well, lonely.”
“Did you spend a lot of time with them growing up? Your grandparents?” I hop up to sit on the counter next to where her barstool is and sigh.
“Most people don’t really know this, since I was always brought around for the big, photo-worthy moments with my parents, but Gran and Pops practically raised me. My parents were off taking the real estate world by storm and left my upbringing to them until around the time I was in high school. Then my father started taking me to events with him, grooming me to take over for him someday.” She makes a disgusted noise and I look down to see the angry look on her face.
“They never evenaskedyou what you wanted to do in life, did they?”
I laugh at the very idea. “No. I was an only child so the family business going to me just…made sense. I was excited about it for a while, the way they talked about the lifestyle I’d have was every kid's dream, but things changed when I got to college. The comments about how I needed to handle my workload better, that I needed to prioritize the company if I wanted to be a good leader some day, and that I needed to stop spending so much time at Gran and Pop’s house or I’d never get accustomed to the life I wasmeantto live. Meanwhile, the life they were trying to pull me away from had become what I wanted.”
“Fucking assholes.”
“Yeah, well…I quickly turned into one of those assholes.” I drop my gaze and her hand appears on my leg.
“Hey, that’s not true.” I’m grateful for her trying to make me feel better, but she’s still wrong.
“It is, though. I lost so much of what I actually liked about myself, becoming who my father wanted me to be—him. I started hanging out with CEOs or their kids, depending on who was closer to my age. Which is how I got involved with Jessica Vanderbilt. We would party every weekend, and I sat idly by and watched as so many shady deals were made amongst some pretty powerful businessmen, simply because that’s where my father wanted me to be.” I look at Lauren, trying to gauge her reaction, but she’s just…listening. Not cutting me off, correcting me, or making excuses for my behavior. She just listens. It’s refreshing. “When I finally got sick of all the partying, I cleaned up my act, stopped hanging out with those people—the ones I knew were shady, anyway—and I started focusing on work the way my father always wanted me to and poured every ounce of myself into the business. I was outselling every other agent at the firm, I was training multiple teams in marketing while assisting the accounting team when they needed it?—”
“God, that sounds awful.”
“Yeah.” I laugh, humorlessly. “And it still wasn’t enough for him. You know I’ve never once gotten my father’s stamp of approval. For anything. The bastard works more than he’s home with my mother, so I stayed at work all hours of the night. He’s a shark in sales and jumps on properties before anyone else gets the chance, so I started making offers people couldn’t refuse, just to secure a place he wanted. He’s selfish and entitled and I became his fuckin clone, and he still isn’t satisfied.”
“Vincent Fitzgerald, look at me.” I look over at her, trying not to smile. I love it when she gets bossy. “You arenothinglike your father.”
“How can you say that? When I’ve just told you everything I’ve done to become like him?” I look at her in bewilderment.
“Because you may be telling me everything you’ve done in the past that you think makes you like him, but I’veseeneverything you do that makes you the complete opposite of him.” I scoff, not believing her. “The first night I met you, you saved me from some handsy stranger trying to get lucky. You offered to take me dancing to let me have a good time and protect me from other scumbags without an ulterior motive. You went as my date to my best friend's wedding when I was upset about being the only one without a date?—”
“Well, to be fair, there were selfish reasons behind that one.” I wink at her and she smiles at me, rolling her eyes.
“You also missed work today to stay with me while I was sick. You stocked my fridge with food and drinks, you made me homemade soup and chicken pot pie—which smells absolutely amazing, by the way. You drew me a bath and…took care of me. You’re not a selfish man, Fitz. Now, hold on to your dish towel because I’m about to say something nice, but you might just be one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met.”
“You might be the only person who’s ever seen that side of me.”
She rests her chin in her palm and gazes at me. “It’s one of my favorite sides of you.”
