Page 13 of Love to Hate You

But, before that, there’s the funeral. Of course, I plan to attend, but I have no desire to see Nash fucking Beckett again. There’s not much I can do, though, and when Saturday arrives, I dress in a black pantsuit and long dark coat. It’s been raining on and off all day and it’s a perfect match for my somber mood.

Thomas Beckett may have been a lot of things and people definitely have their varied opinions about him, but he took me under his wing, and I will always appreciate that. Even though it feels like he just screwed me.

The family decided to have a small graveside service and nothing more. I’m nervous the entire way to the cemetery and when I get there, I park my car behind a Tesla and get out. My umbrella pops up and I angle it so I can take a look at who is there without them really seeing me.

There aren’t more than 15 people up at the gravesite and my gaze scans over them. I recognize a few TB Tech board members, including Mark Jenner, and then my gaze pauses on a tall, dark-haired man closest to the casket.

The moment I recognize Nash, my heart thumps harder and it’s as though my body is preparing to fight with him. I’m on edge, my hands squeeze into fists and my lips press together so I don’t say anything rude.

I move over and stand beside Mark, hoping to avoid Nash completely. But, of course, he looks up and our gazes collide. I’d forgotten just how bright his cobalt blue eyes are and my thumping heart skips a beat.

Skips a beat?

No, that can’t be right. But my pulse definitely speeds up and I attribute that to the negative way he has always affected me. His expression is unreadable, and I can’t tell if he’s angry or sad or what. Even though it’s his father’s funeral and he should be upset, I know they hadn’t spoken for the last two years.

I pull my gaze away from his magnetic blue stare and look at who I assume are his siblings. From what I know, they were all estranged. But maybe that’s changed since they’re all standing together and putting on a united front. I really have no idea what’s going on with them.

Right beside Nash is a thinner, leaner version of him with hazel eyes.Tanner maybe?I’m guessing. Obviously, the young woman would be their only sister, Sierra, and beside her is Crew, her twin. The twins have dark hair and blue eyes, but not quite as bright as Nash’s shade.

And then there’s a man standing off to the edge more and I’m assuming that it’s Sawyer. I never heard much about him other than an occasional snort from Thomas about Sawyer being an ungrateful ass who ran off and joined the military out of defiance.

Clearly, the black sheep of the group.

I do my best to avoid making eye contact with any of them, especially Nash, and thankfully the ceremony is short and sweet. After it’s over, all I want to do is run back down to my car, but that would be rude. I know I should reach out to his children and offer my condolences.

Even if they don’t care that their father died.

Taking a deep breath, I tip my umbrella back and walk over. They all look at me and not one tear has been shed between the four of them. I take a deep breath before saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” the one that I think is Tanner says.

The others nod and when I finally look up at Nash, his face is so unreadable that I have no idea what to think. It’s completely devoid of expression, as though it’s etched in stone.

I clear my throat, then turn and force myself to walk away, heading back down toward my car. As I shut my umbrella and open my car door, I look back up on the hill where Thomas’ four kids still stand, talking amongst themselves, and realize that Nash is staring at me.

It’s an odd sensation to feel his intense blue gaze on me and I swallow hard and slip into the driver’s seat. On the ride home, my thoughts keep returning to the man I remember and what a bastard he was.

I don’t look forward to dealing with Nash again and I know the insufferable man is going to make my life a living hell. I’ve never met anyone who gets under my skin quite like he does. We’re never on the same page and he loves to push me until my claws come out. Nothing drives me crazier than that arrogant smirk and taunting voice of his.

That’s not what I saw today, though. Hell, I’m not sure who I saw earlier, but I’m going to chalk up his subdued behavior to the fact that his father just died. Besides, we have nothing to fight about yet.Just give us a minute,I think. Because my claws are itching to come out.

When Nash worked at TB Tech, I think his favorite pastime was annoying me on every level. And he did it so very well. It wasn’t just us going head-to-head on business stuff, either. It was all the little shit, too, that added up fast. He loved leaving his coffee mugs laying everywhere and there was always a quarter of cold brew left in them; he would go to the gym on his lunch hour and always return late; he would leave leftover food in the kitchen fridge and never throw it out.

Ugh. I force myself to take several deep breaths as an image of Nash pops into my mind. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely unfortunate looking, and he always was the epitome of classy. The man could wear a suit like no one else and he always looked put-together and strait-laced. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without a tie. Always buttoned-up and wearing a designer jacket, he looked like the consummate downtown New York businessman.

Successfulbusinessman. Despite his annoying habits and penchant to challenge me on everything, he was smart. Too smart and that’s what scares me.

Standing on my balcony, barely holding back the frustrated tears, I look out over my city. Everything is about to come crashing down on me. The thing that pisses me off the most is Nash left TB Tech. He basically threw a tantrum like a little boy and stormed out when he didn’t get his way. That shows how much he cared for the company.

He fucking didn’t.

And, here I am, working my ass off to make sure it’s a success. My head drops between my shoulders, and I feel like such a fool. Was I taken advantage of? Did Thomas even care? Suddenly, I don’t know what to do.

I suppose if you look at the big picture, I have options. I could pull a Nash and never return to the office.Goodbye, good luck and good riddance.But that would make me no better than him and I pride myself on having a good work ethic and not giving in when the going gets tough.

There’s always the possibility of finding another job. The problem is it takes so damn long to convince all the testosterone in the office that I’m just as competent and good, if not better, than they are when it comes to bagging clients and increasing income. Obviously, I wouldn’t have to start at the bottom in my actual job position but I would when it comes to gaining respect and trust.

I’ve been groomed to be President of a major tech company and I’ve never been more ready to accept the responsibility. Unfortunately, I can see it disappearing before I’m ever even given the chance to fully prove myself.

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