In a lot of ways, the day I was adopted by Lauren and Phil was the beginning of my downfall. But at the same time, I’m constantly aware of how lucky I am to be in charge of this company. I am honestly passionate about the business and in awe of Phil’s brilliance and product design. I spend as much time as possible down in the lab, learning exactly how the technology works and what changes are being implemented to improve it. Phil handpicked all his lead engineers and so I know they’re the best of the best. It’s critical to me that I run this company well and through my success, pay homage to the man who wanted and tried his best to do right by me and whom I unfairly treated so poorly for years and years. It’s the reason I put off finding Evie immediately when I got to Cincinnati. I needed to make sure that I was as mentally present as possible as I took on my new role. I knew that once I got a glance at Evie, my mind would be at least partially elsewhere. Just thinking about her and how close she was, played havoc with my emotions.
I was f**ked up in a lot of ways over the years, but one thing I have confidence about is my work ethic. I’ve always been a hard worker. I always got good grades in school and I know I’m not a lazy person, like the good for nothing dirtbag who raised me most of my life. I take a deep breath as images of the man who called himself my father for the first eleven years of my life swirl around in my brain. It’s still so f**king hard not to get stuck in the feeling his memory evokes. It’s still so f**king hard not to let his disparaging words about me play on repeat in my brain. Dr. Fox brought me so far, but now I need to do the daily work of replacing the hateful ideas I was force fed from the time I could comprehend who I was, with something more positive. It takes daily diligence not to fall into the self-hatred trap. Disease can be deadly, and self-hatred is a disease, too. Secrets and shame can end a life just as easily as metastasizing cells and viral takeover. I know I’m not helping myself out by doing something that feels morally questionable, keeping something from Evie, but I need time. Not a lot, just a little.
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a light knock at my office door. "Come in," I call.
A blond head peeks around the door, a smile on her full lips. Gwen. Shit. If Christine had still been here, she’d have known to call my phone after a few minutes with a "pressing" call. Damn it. Why’d I let her go early? Now I’m trapped, like a rat in a cage. And Gwen is the hungry cat in this scenario.
She enters and then locks the door behind her before strutting in, her lean body encased in a skin-tight, navy blue dress. "Jake!" she croons. I stand up to greet her and she comes around my desk, holding her arms open. I lean in to kiss her on the cheek, her perfume assaulting me. It’d be a nice smell if she wasn’t bathed in it. She turns her head at the last minute so that I can’t help but to kiss her lips and she squeezes my shoulders. I lean back, smiling tightly and she takes her thumb and wipes her lipstick off my mouth, her own lips puckering up as she focuses on the task.
Every muscle in my body is tensed to move away from her. I need to be alone with my work and my thoughts. I’m not up for playing her games right now and past experience tells me that that is exactly what I’m in for. "Hey, Gwen. How are you?"
"Better now that I’m here with you, gorgeous." She smiles, showing me her perfect, overly white teeth as she takes a seat on the edge of my desk, her big, round br**sts right at eye level. I take a deep breath and scoot my chair back slightly and look up at her. "Gwen, there are two chairs right there." I gesture my head in the direction of the chairs on the other side of my desk.
She ignores me, grabbing my tie and pulling me toward her. "God, look at you. All corporate. It’s sexy." She slips her shoe off and puts her bare foot in my lap, wiggling her toes on my crotch.
That’s it. I grab her foot and remove it, then scoot my chair back even further, my tie falling from her hand. Through a clenched jaw, I say, "Gwen. Enough." My blood is boiling. I can’t stand forward women. It’s mostly my own personal issue for obvious reasons, but that shit enrages me. "Unless you’re here for something work related, you need to leave."
"Grumpy," she says, standing up, slipping her shoe on and walking around my desk to one of the chairs. She sits down, crosses her legs and goes on, "We used to be friends, Jake. What happened?" She pouts, crossing her arms and sticking out her bottom lip. She literally sticks out her bottom lip like a petulant two year old. I almost laugh.
"I’ve already told you, Gwen, we can be friends. As long as you keep your foot, and other body parts away from my crotch, we’ll get along fine."
"You used to like it when I paid attention to your crotch," she says, raising an eyebrow. "You know I’m good at it. Why deny yourself?"
I stare at her for several moments. I got myself into this mess by leading her on all those years. I used her to get back at Lauren and Phil. Any time there was a company sponsored trip and families went along, or her dad brought her with him for business in San Diego, I went out of my way to make sure we were "caught" together in the most compromising positions possible. She’s one of the most shallow people I’ve had the displeasure of meeting, but the fact remains that she’s a person, and deep down, maybe she has feelings. I’ve never seen them, but there’s a chance that they exist. "Listen, Gwen, anything we had has been over for a long time. A really long time, actually. I’m trying to get my life back on a better track and I need to focus on doing that, okay?"