I waste no time giving him the details of the parties, the NDAs, and the accounts from the women I’d spoken with. His jaw tightens to the snapping point, his face growing redder with every word.
“You sought out these women,” he responds when I’m done, his indignation directed atmeinstead of Drew. “Your disloyalty is appalling.”
“So, I take it you’re standing behind your golden boy?”
“This isn’t about Drew. Emotion is clouding your judgment.”
“My judgment is crystal clear. I won’t turn a blind eye and cover this up.”
“You would risk your legacy over such nonsense?”
“Young women being coerced and threatened into having sex with one of your executives is nonsense?”
“Yes, Alexandra, it is. What you call coercion, I call women looking to jump on a gravy train that you presented to them.”
I stand then, staring him down. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to sink any lower, but you have managed to scrape the very bottom. I’m resigning from Townsen and the board. If you choose to protect Marshall, be forewarned you will go down with him. And before you try to threaten me with Chaz, just know that if you do anything to harm him or his business, I will expose all the dysfunctions of this family. Do you think your wife can handle that?”
Without waiting for a response, I walk out of his office and out of their house.
The click of the door behind me feels final, and it hurts more than I expected.
I sit in my car, shaking, willing the tears away. I’ve done the right thing, but I feel hollowed out. Alone. And the one person I need the most is over a hundred miles away.
Iput on my Marcus Miller playlist to keep me company. The bassline hums through the empty café. I don’t usually work nights, but I needed the distraction. Inventory keeps my hands busy and my mind focused on something tangible.
I’m halfway through counting a case of coffee beans when there’s a knock at the back door. My brow furrows. Sophia’s at home with the Beyhive—it’s good to see her spending time with friends again—and Dice is at Docks.
I cross the backroom and open the door. Everything stops. Time, my heart, my pulse—they all screech to a halt. Only the music continues, the lyrics winding their way around us.
Lost without you, can’t help myself . . .
They echo the words that had been playing in my mind before Lexie stepped out of my thoughts and appeared at my door. She’s bundled in a short jacket, her hair tumbling in mink-soft waves, and her cheeks rosy from the cold. Her blue eyes, framed by her glasses are as dark as sapphire waters and clouded with sadness.
“Chaz,” she whispers, stumbling forward.
I catch her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She buries her face in my neck, her body trembling. I hold her tighter, my cheek resting on the top of her head, her scent filling my lungs. I want to ask what’s wrong, why she’s here days early, but I don’t. Not yet. I sense she just needs me to hold her, so that’s what I do.
Seconds pass, or maybe minutes. I can’t tell. Nothing exists but the feel of her in my arms. We sway to the music—not dancing, just moving together, the moment too much to stand still.
Her hands slide up my chest, the heat of her touch seeping through my shirt, then to the nape of my neck, where her fingertips brush against the skin. She pulls back, and before I can speak, her lips are on mine.
The kiss is pure fire and passion. Nothing has ever felt this momentous. There’s an immense shift, like the plates of the earth locking into place. I kick the door closed, and without breaking the connection, my body moves us blindly through the small space. When the back of her thighs hit the desk, I lift her onto it, unzipping her jacket in one motion. She shrugs it off her shoulders, and my hands skim over her arms, her waist, her hips. Throughout it all, our mouths refuse to relinquish that single point of contact.
“Loving You” comes on next, the instrumental piece weaving through the room like a soundtrack to my emotions. I’ve never loved a woman with such soul-deep intensity—a woman who’s linked to my past in a way that shouldn’t work and doesn’t make sense. Except it does.
Because of Lexie, I’ve started to process the anger I’ve carried for too long. She’s made me want to move beyond the bitterness, to breathe in the freedom of a future without it.
When we finally come up for air, tears shimmer in her eyes.
“Talk to me, baby,” I murmur, threading my hands through her hair. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It was horrible,” she says, heavy with grief. “My mother’s judgment, my father’s control—his heartlessness. Why did I think he’d side with me against Drew Marshall? I knew better, but I wanted to believe he would.”
“He’s your father,” I say softly, when I previously wouldn’t have been able to give her that. “You wanted to believe there was something good in him.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. “There’s nothing good in him, but I thought maybe he’d at least care about protecting the company. Instead, he treated me like a child and dismissed me as being too emotional. There are more women, Chaz. I spoke to them. But he doesn’t care. He’d rather protect his profit machine and pretend these women are just looking for a payout. But that’s on him. I resigned. I’m going to take Marshall down, but coming to the realization that it’s over with my family…” She releases a broken sigh. “I don’t know why that hurts so much—why it left me feeling so alone.”
“You’re not alone. You’ve got people who love you. You’ve got me. Always.”
