Page 55 of Miss Understanding

What the hell had I done?

Chapter Twenty-Six

Liam

Escape could not come quickly enough. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears, and the only thing I could think of was how I’d almost fucked my assistant in the supply closet down in the basement of the church.

Self-loathing wasn’t a strong enough word for what I was feeling. Simply put, I’d been ready to use her against a storage room shelf. If I’d had a condom, there was no doubt I’d still be balls deep inside of her. Had I even touched her to make sure she was ready? Nope. I’d been ready to rut against her like a selfish bastard.

I’d screwed up.

Royally.

I was in a daze as I climbed the stairs to the funeral reception. I had to get out of here.

“You okay?” my sister asked, coming up to me with her brows drawn together in concern.

“No. I need a drive. Can you drop Kendall off at the house?”

“Sure. But are you all right? You don’t look so hot.” If I appeared one-tenth as bad as I was feeling, it was no wonder she was concerned.

“I will be. Just gotta leave.”

“Okay. Call me later or at least text. Or if you want to come over—you can.”

“I’ll let you know.”

I drove to a local place, three miles away, and took a seat at the old wooden bar. “Bourbon neat,” I ordered. “Can you leave the bottle?”

The old barkeep looked like he could play Santa during December. “You got it,” he said with a kind smile.

I tipped back my first swallow. God, it burned. No top shelf here.

What the hell was I going to do? Would we be able to work together again? Would she accept my apology? Was she already calling HR? It might be unfair for me to automatically jump to the conclusion she’d take it there, but then again, I wouldn’t blame her. Especially after I’d simply left her following my manhandling. I was no better than her last boss.

Another swallow went down, burning less this time. My phone vibrated with my mother’s number displayed. I silenced it and then threw back another shot. Numb. I wanted to be numb to the fact I was a horrible son, a terrible boss, and an even worse human being.

One of the older men two stools down tapped the bar top. “You Fred Davenport’s son?”

My gaze focused on him, trying to place his weathered face, wire-rimmed glasses, and crooked smile. “Who’s asking?”

“Name is Chuck. Chuck Lassiter. Used to work with him. You resemble your old man. I mean when he was younger. Was sorry to read his obituary in the paper.”

That made one of us. “Thanks.”

“Anyhow. Hope your mom is doing okay. She was always a nice lady.”

Yes, she was. And if ever I believed in divine intervention, this was it. I wouldn’t sit here and get drunk like my father would have. I’d man up and be there for my family. Face my screwup with Kendall. “My mom is all right. Thanks for asking.” I threw a hundred down on the bar and motioned to the barkeep. “Next drink for Chuck is on me. Keep the rest. Thanks.”

* * *

I walked into a darkened rental house, having come from my sister’s place. I’d gone straight there from the bar, spending the rest of the afternoon with both my sister and my mom. It was important for me to be there for the both of them.

Ally had asked Kendall to come over, but she’d opted instead to be dropped off at the rental. I couldn’t blame her. Not only had I made it awkward for her to be around my family, but I also doubted she wanted to see me.

It was after nine o’clock, and I wondered if she was already in bed. My question was answered when I walked down the hall and saw the light on under her bedroom door.

Part of me wanted to take the chickenshit route and just go upstairs, but there was too much at stake to avoid talking to her tonight. Deep breaths. Don’t apologize too quickly or come off as guilty. Feel her out and see where her head is first. If she hates me, then talk to her and try to fix this before it goes to HR.