Society Playboys: Playboy Assistant Part 17

That evening, Fabian kicked his feet up on the wooden bench at the La Grange patio bar, imbibing a b.l.o.o.d.y Mary, trying to forget the look on Toni's face when she left him. Konrad was the only one who could give him an unbiased opinion. And not bust his chops for pure entertainment.

"Toni is a right bird, mate," Konrad interjected his thoughts. "I like her."

Taking another sip of b.l.o.o.d.y Mary, he wished it was stronger. "This is weak p.i.s.s. Why am I drinking this? It's not brunch."

Konrad signaled for the waitress who bounced over with a smile on her face. The women always were impressed with Konrad's sort-of British accent. Maybe they thought he was good-looking too, but it didn't matter. "Hey, love, can we get two more of these things. Strong. More Vodka. Chopin if you have it."

She nodded, holding his gaze a bit longer before Konrad looked away. "Of course."

"I think she likes you." Fabian shifted against the wooden seating. He sighed.

"You've got to make some sort of grand gesture, mein frund." Konrad's eyebrows lifted a bit when he spoke in his native German. He'd learned to speak English in England, hence the sort-of British accent.

Fabian looked at his blinking phone. Notifications from social media had vibrated his phone all morning. Apparently, Camille thought she should share what she was felt about him on every social media site she was on. The last three days he'd avoided the internet for that reason alone. He raked a hand through his already sweaty hair. He would rather be in Cambridge during the summer than Houston. It was brutal, especially at five in the afternoon. Fabian took off his aviator sungla.s.ses. "What's my reputation, Kon?"

"What do you mean?" Konrad acted like he didn't know, but he wasn't fooling anyone.

"You know what I mean." Fabian caught his friend's stare, wouldn't let go. He needed to hear the truth.

The waitress came back with two garnished drinks. Fabian's stomach rumbled. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"You're welcome." She smiled at Fabian, stalled a bit before she said more. "I heard about you and Camille."

Fabian sighed. That was old news. News he didn't want to be reminded of. News that was irrelevant now anyways. "Have we met?" He cringed. Please let us have never met.

A small laugh puffed from her lips. She shook her head, her gaze dropping to her fingers for a second. "No. But I just wanted to say ... sorry. And if you want a drink anytime, come see me." She glanced at Konrad, who beamed like the big golden German boy he was. "You too, Konrad."

Once she left, Konrad commented before he took a large swig of his new drink. "And what was the question again?"

Fabian grunted. "Am I a useless p.r.i.c.k?"

The defeatist in him reared his ugly head. That really wasn't the question he wanted to ask, though. No one else could answer the real question he had for himself. Which was-did he deserve Toni? And even though his first response was no, a deeper part of him said yes. He'd changed entirely too much since meeting her for the answer to not be yes.

"No, mate. You're a useless, f.e.c.kless p.r.i.c.k who s.h.a.gs women and doesn't remember them. But you've been that way since Harvard."

His skin burned. Stomach rumbled again. And he kind of wanted to punch his friend in the face. "So I should be a workaholic like you who doesn't know how to have fun?"

"I have fun. Making money is fun. And this isn't about me, Fabian. This is your s.h.i.t, mate."

"Ah, f.u.c.k. I know." Fabian slipped his sungla.s.ses back on his face, before sliding an open palm to the back of his neck. d.a.m.n, it grew hotter each second. He sat in the silence, trying to accept the thoughts that sprung forth. The awareness finally came after refusing to take a good look at himself after too many years.

Konrad spoke first. "Reputations can change, mate."

Fabian shook his head. "I never wanted anything. Not the money or the Harvard education. Or the good looks to get into as many panties as I have. h.e.l.l, I didn't even really want to be a partner in my dad's firm." He muttered, "I can't stand the b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Fabian put both elbows on table, letting the warm wood caress his skin. "But I want her. I ... I feel like I need her, man. I don't have the slightest clue how to handle myself. And today, when she ... my heart broke in half. I mean, physically. Right in half, bro."

"Blimey! I think you might be in love." Konrad chuckled at first, then a string of laughter followed bordering on ridiculousness. "f.u.c.king h.e.l.l. I never thought that would happen. Cheers to that!" He lifted his b.l.o.o.d.y Mary, and without Fabian following suit, clanked the air and tossed it back. Bacon and olives everywhere. "Shyte!"

"What do I do?"

"Phone her now. Tell her you want to see her."

Fabian hesitated. Was it really over between him and Toni? "But she broke up with me."

"Doesn't matter. People break up sometimes out of fear. Maybe something spooked her."

Energy surged through him. Konrad was right. The only thing that made sense was that she was afraid of something. With that in his mind, fueling him, Fabian scanned the place for a private area but decided a text might be better.

Fabian: Toni, I'm going to call you tonight. Answer when I do. I need to talk to you.

His stomach flopped the moment he pressed send. Oh, G.o.d. The rejection he could face-continued rejection. But there was an excitement inside him, thinking of all the things he wanted to say to her. All the things he wanted to do. A solid minute pa.s.sed with no response. He set the phone on the table, watching it relentlessly for the rest of their conversation.

"I can't stand to think of Stephan there with her." He scrubbed his face. "She is way too good for him."

"That t.o.s.s.e.r Bradley. You know he'd been after me about investing in some real estate and I'm just not interested. It's a bad deal in my opinion." Konrad's gaze shifted to Fabian's phone. "Don't worry about him. He had his chance with her."

"I don't know what I'll do if she gives him another chance." He would die. Dead on the ground. "I would have to fight him, Kon. I might go to jail if she goes with him."

"Good thing your father has a good lawyer."

"No s.h.i.t." He took another drink letting the possibilities sink in. Even created some scenarios in his head that had his heart beating double time. "I can't be without her."

Konrad looked stunned. Speechless at first, his blue eyes dilated with his thoughts-G.o.d only knows what they were. But Fabian might have had an idea.

"You're in deep, mate."

"I am."

When Toni arrived at her penthouse it was after five in the evening. She'd spent the remainder of her day in Galveston, sitting inside the Robuchon limo, watching the tiny waves roll onto the sand. She didn't go outside. Miles didn't say a word the whole time, only waited for her direction. Miles was a good chauffeur.

She sat on her terrace looking over Montrose Boulevard, a flute of champagne between her fingers, because she hadn't had enough already in the limo. She'd counted two full bottles empty. Yet, she wasn't drunk. Not even a little bit, which was a shame because it was all she wanted. She read Fabian's text message at least a hundred times, not daring to respond. What would she say anyhow? It was over between them.

Five sips later, her phone vibrated from the gla.s.s top patio table. She jumped and s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone up to read the screen. Fabian. She bit her lower lip, the pressure growing harder with each ring. If she bit it any harder, she'd break the skin for sure. It stopped. She sighed. The phone slipped between her fingers onto her lap. It was warm against her skin. Her insides were warm too.

An hour pa.s.sed-two maybe-and she couldn't bring herself to listen to his voice message. Dueling desires played games with her head-and her heart. Fabian. Stephan. Her mother. Imagine if she'd said no to the life she was prescribed. Imagine what she would be in that moment ... disowned by her only living parent. And surely, since she was an only child like both her parents, the end of the line for a family spanning generations of good connections and money. She had a duty to her family, what little there was left of it.

With trembling fingers, she lifted the phone from her lap. After taking one last lengthy glance at the sky, she began to tap on icons until she navigated to her email application. Reluctant for only a moment, she began to type.

To: Victor Pallis([email protected]) From: Toni Robuchon() Date: Tuesday, July 27 RE:RE:RE: Fabian Mr. Pallis Per my mother, Helene Robuchon, I will release Fabian from employment tomorrow, Wednesday. There will soon be a change in management, and Fabian will no longer have a place. You should know that he has improved tremendously since my last report. I am positive he is ready to transition to your engineering firm as a partner. My mother and I are confident he is ready for the task. Fabian is unaware of my decision to release him. Please allow me to speak to him first. If you have any questions about my decision, please feel free to email or call me.

Sincerely, Toni Robuchon Acting CEO Robuchon Investments

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Fabian couldn't quite get the key inside the doork.n.o.b to his condo. On the fourth try, the door swung open, but it wasn't due to his own accord.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing, Fabian?" His father stood in front of him, a beer in his left hand and a sneer tugging at his lips.

"Dad." The shock sobered him a good amount. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing in my condo?"

"Don't you mean my condo?" His father stepped aside to let Fabian stagger into the s.p.a.ce. "You're drunk."

Fabian grunted, the haze lifting from his sight. "Well, not anymore, thanks to you." He turned to face his father standing by the closed door. "Just because you own this complex doesn't mean you own this condo."

"It sure as h.e.l.l does, Fabian."

"I'll pay for it then."

His father's eyebrows lifted like thick furry crescents. "With what money?"

"With my money!" He was getting sick and tired of people suggesting he wasn't capable of earning a living, or anything else for that matter.

"Oh, your trust fund?"

Fabian's jaw clenched, but he contained the anger growing inside. Of all the nights to go off on his father, it seemed like a good one. But he was still too tender from the argument with Toni, he wouldn't be able to fight fair if he began. "I don't need the trust fund. I have plans that don't include you or your G.o.dd.a.m.n money."

"Well, according to this email, it's not money you'll be making at RI, that's for sure."

His heart skipped. "What are you talking about?"

Approaching at a threatening speed, his father entered Fabian's personal s.p.a.ce in no time flat. "d.a.m.n it, Fabian. What the h.e.l.l are you doing with Helene's kid? And don't you lie to me." He waved his finger around. Fabian wasn't a fan.

"Get out of my face, Dad." He turned toward the floor-to-ceiling window stretching the length of the living room.

"Didn't I tell you she's off-limits?" The accusatory tone shook Fabian more than he expected. But his father wasn't done yet. "Someone saw you at the gala, Fabian. With Helene's daughter. There are rumors going around."

He turned in a flash. "What do you mean?" He knew exactly what it meant. Someone saw him kiss Toni. Saw him touch her. He closed his eyes, thinking of all the ways he touched her not that long ago. But there was something else he glossed over. "What email are you talking about?"

"Are you seeing Antonia behind my back?" His father's eyes darkened. When Fabian didn't answer, he asked again. Harsher that time. "Are you s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g Antonia, Fabian? After I told you to stay away from her?"

"Don't talk to me like that! And don't say her name like that either!" He had to be careful not to fall apart. Might be too late though, he was shaking harder than he ever had.

His father scrubbed his red cheeks. Fabian glanced behind his father, spotting the other beer bottles on the coffee table. "This is why you won't be partner at my firm. You don't listen. How can I trust you if you can't take a simple direction? Couldn't you keep it in your pants for once? Aren't there still a good number of girls you haven't screwed over yet since you got back from Cambridge?"

Gutted. That was the only way to describe how he felt. It had been the worst twenty-four hours of his life in a very, very long time. How easily his own father could say such things to him nearly killed him. Though he would have normally walked away from this fight, he was compelled to stay. His own hurt drove his words, and before the first one came out, he knew it would be the lowest point of his life after losing his mother.

"Like father, like son. I'm sure Mom would be so proud."

His father stopped as if he'd been hit by the Metro. He waved a bit too, must have been replaying the words to make sure he'd heard right. Fabian couldn't believe he'd actually had the nerve to say them. But he needed to. He'd always needed to, but it never seemed like the right time.

"Don't you dare. I cared about your mother." His father's voice dropped several octaves. Deep and a bit frightening, the voice took Fabian back to his childhood. But just for a second.

"You care about yourself. Don't ever say you cared about my mother. She would have stayed if you gave a d.a.m.n about her." Fabian wanted to stop, but he couldn't. Adrenaline was pumping through him faster than he could censor his words. He braced himself for the blow he knew his father wanted to give him.

"You don't know anything about it, Fabian. Not a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing." The controlled tone sent a chill through Fabian's body. He'd never seen his father as contained as he had been in that moment. It was a new level of anger, and he was anxious of what would happen next. "If you ever mention your mother again like this, I swear I will cut you out of my will. Of my life."

"You cut me out a long time ago, Dad, when you stopped believing I could be something. If you ever believed it."

The anger drained from his father's body, his shoulders slumped over. A deflated expression followed. He reflected the agony Fabian felt inside. The thing that hung between father and son for so long needed to come out. Desperately. "I never cut you out, son. I hate that you think it."

In an instant, he was a tired man who looked all of his sixty years. Regret came fast, much like Fabian suspected it came for his father who transformed into the sh.e.l.l of a man standing before him. "Dad..."

He silenced Fabian with a slow lift of his hand. Fabian waited anxiously to meet his father's gaze. When he did, he saw his father for the first time. Completely raw and open. "I loved your mother, Fabian. I loved her like no other. But she wasn't from my world."

Fabian bowed his head, knowing this is what prompted her to abandon her husband and son, though he'd never heard his father say it. His mother was his grandfather's maid who his father inconveniently fell in love with.

"It was easier for her to hate me and leave on her own than to ask her to. I just could never do that."

Fabian's breath caught in his throat. "What?"

His father turned the opposite direction, running a thick hand over the top of his head. "Your grandfather wasn't a fan of me marrying the help. In fact, I was supposed to marry Helene. He never forgave me for giving her up to Robuchon. But Robuchon was a good man. Helene was better off with him."

Fabian couldn't speak if he tried. The words left him, and it was a whole minute until he understood his own thoughts. "Oh, s.h.i.t." That was best he could do.

"Let's just say our circle isn't forgiving. Rich marry rich, that's just the way it goes. And when you don't, you aren't regarded the same. That's why I hope you'll sow your wild oats and marry Camille. She's new money, but everyone at some point is new money. It will be easier for your grandchildren."

"Why not Toni?" Why couldn't he stop carrying on like she was still an option? Because in his heart, he knew they weren't done.

"Helene would never allow that." He finally turned, his face etched with the hard truth. "We're still good friends, but I might as well be in exile for marrying your mother."

"But you said you loved Mom. How can that be bad?"

A slow grunt jerked his father's body. "There are a lot of things that should be good that are not, and a lot of things that should be bad that are not."

"But I want her, Dad. I want her so much I can't think straight." A spike of energy rushed through his body. Air lodged in his throat. A sense of doom fell over him. Fabian was about to get bad news by the look on his father's face.

"This is the only time I'll tell you to give something up. But you have to before it's too late."

"What do you mean? Give what up?"

"Antonia, son. She's going to let you go."

"Toni, I need to talk to you. I need to make it right between us. I didn't mean what I said... Well, I did, but not the way it sounded. I don't care what it takes, I'll do it. I'll do whatever you want. I ... I think I'm in love with you. No. I know I am. Please call me."

Toni listened to Fabian's message a total of seventeen times. Over and over. "I think I'm in love with you" played on repeat in her mind. The sentiment was true for her as well. She was in all possible ways in love with him. But it was impossible.

She put her phone on the side table and turned over on her side promptly after. Tomorrow is going to suck. Hard. Her whole life would suck if she had to marry Stephan Bradley. Ugh. She flipped over on her back, the plush bed taking her in its depth. Can a person stay in bed forever?