#5
1205 Words
Chapter 5
~ Hailey ~
I shut the door to my room and pressed my back against it, phone still clutched in my hand, ringing annoyingly, I picked it up.
"Hailey." Derek's voice was ice-cold. "We have a problem."
My heart sank. "What kind of problem?"
"The Reynolds project. The one you supposedly triple-checked before going on leave."
"What about it?"
"It's a disaster." His voice was tight with controlled fury. "Missing data, incomplete analysis, substandard work across the board. The CEO personally called me about it an hour ago. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?"
My world tilted. "That's impossible. I checked everything..."
"Well, you clearly didn't check well enough." He didn't let me finish. "I need you back in the office. Today."
"Today? It's Christmas..."
"I don't care if it's the apocalypse, Hailey. Fix this, or you're fired. Those are your options."
"Derek, please, just let me look at the files remotely..."
"No. I want you in the office where I can supervise this personally. You have until noon today to be at your desk, or don't bother coming back at all." His voice dropped, dangerous. "And Hailey? The CEO is watching this project now. Don't make me regret hiring you."
The line went dead.
I stood there, phone still pressed to my ear, staring at nothing. Three months. I'd been at Keytone Group for three months, and I'd never even heard the CEO mentioned by name. The executive floor was a myth, a distant kingdom we peasants in project management never glimpsed.
And now, suddenly, the CEO was personally invested in my failure.
Fine. Good. Perfect, even.
At least it gave me a reason to escape this f****d-up house.
I grabbed my suitcase and started throwing clothes inside with more force than necessary. My hands were shaking — from anger or exhaustion or both, I couldn't tell anymore.
The image of them pressed against that wall wouldn't leave my mind. Navine's hands in her hair. Yvonne's leg wrapped around his waist. The casual way he'd walked away afterward, like it was nothing. Like betraying his father meant nothing.
I'd thought Navine was just an arrogant asshole who threw stones at strangers. Turns out he was so much worse. He was the kind of man who couldn't even respect his own father. Who'd carry on an affair with his father’s fiance in his father's house, probably in his father's bed for all I knew.
Men like that made my skin crawl.
Yvonne was playing the most dangerous game I'd ever seen. Engaged to the father while sleeping with the son. What kind of twisted, greedy, self-destructive impulse drove someone to do that?
I zipped my suitcase with more violence than necessary.
Sleep was impossible for me, I just couldn’t sleep with all that had happened in less than 24 hours.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the hours crawl by on my phone. 2:47 AM. 3:23 AM. 4:15 AM.
By the time the sky started lightening outside my window, I gave up entirely.
At 6:00 AM sharp, I grabbed my suitcase and handbag and slipped out of the room as quietly as possible. The house was silent, everyone presumably asleep. Good. I could slip out unnoticed, get in my car, and...
I stopped at the top of the stairs.
Jackson stood by the glass of the window in the living room, still in his pajamas, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. He was watching the sun rise over the manicured gardens, his posture relaxed but somehow lonely.
He turned at the sound of my footsteps and smiled. "Hailey. You're up early."
"I could say the same about you." I descended the stairs slowly, suitcase bumping against each step.
"Couldn't sleep." He took a sip of his drink—whiskey, probably, or scotch. "Too excited, I suppose. Getting married in six days." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "More exciting than Christmas, if I'm honest."
My stomach twisted.
His gaze dropped to my suitcase, and his smile faltered. "Going somewhere?"
I'm not a good liar. Never have been. The words tumbled out before I could craft something believable. "Work called. There's an issue with a project I need to fix. I have to go back to the city."
"On Christmas morning?" Jackson's face fell. "That's terrible timing."
"I know. I'm sorry." And I was. Sorry that he was so kind, so genuine, so completely unaware of what was happening under his own roof.
"Navine left for work about an hour ago too." Jackson shook his head ruefully. "Some emergency at the company he oversees. I'd hoped we could all spend the day together as a family, you know? Open presents, have a proper Christmas breakfast." He studied my face. "When are you coming back?"
"I'm not sure. Depends on how bad the situation is..."
"But you'll be back for the wedding." It wasn't a question. His voice held a note of almost childlike hope. "New Year's Eve. You have to be there, Hailey. Both Yvonne and I need you there."
The sincerity in his eyes made my chest ache.
"Why do you have your suitcase?" he continued, his brow furrowing. "If you're just going to fix something at work, you shouldn't need all your things. You'll be back in a day or two, right?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. "I just thought..."
"No." Jackson set down his glass and crossed to me, gently taking the suitcase handle from my hand. "You're not taking this. Your room is here. Your space is here. You go handle your work emergency, and then you come right back." His smile was warm, almost fatherly. "We're family now, Hailey. This is your home too."
"Jackson..."
"I insist." He was already heading toward the stairs with my suitcase. "You can take your handbag with whatever you need for a day or two, but the rest stays here. It'll be waiting for you when you get back."
I watched him climb the stairs, my suitcase in his hand, and felt something crack inside my chest.
He was a good man. A genuinely good man who'd opened his home to me, who wanted me at his wedding, who called me family.
A good man with terrible taste in women and even worse luck with sons.
Should I tell him? Just blurt it out right now? Your fiancée is sleeping with your son. I saw them pressed against the wall, his hands in her hair, her leg around his waist. They're betraying you.
The words sat on my tongue, heavy and sharp.
"Thank you," I said finally, the words tasting like ash. "For everything. For welcoming me here."
"Of course." His smile was genuine, unguarded. "You're Yvonne's sister. That makes you my family too."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak as he disappeared to the hallway of my room to drop my suitcase and I headed for the exit with my handbag.
I stepped out into the cold December morning, pulled the door closed behind me, and stood there on the front steps, shaking.
I'd just left a good man to walk blindly into his own destruction.
And I hated myself for it.
- Writer
