Chapter Sixteen:
Lanie
Ian was at the foundation promptly at six like I told him, but instead of dinner at his place, we stopped at a drive through to grab burgers. The greasy fatty food was something I typically wouldn't eat but comfort food is comfort food for a reason, right?
We made small talk about our days, our work weeks, and the weather. It was torture for me to not just blurt it out and ask Ian to donate money to the foundation to help save it. I hated that Richter had even brought it up. I knew he was still working his angle with Ward Nelson but at this point he was desperate, and so was I.
I didn't just need this job; I loved it. It was a part of my identity now. I invested so much into GlobalCare and the fight to preserve the marshlands that without it I felt a little lost. What would I even do next if I didn't solve the puzzle I'd been working on for years? And if we didn't get money quick, at least in the short term, the entire project was going to go under.
"You seem a little distracted," Ian said as he tossed his burger wrapper in the brown fast-food bag perched on the center console of his Rolls. I was sure the burger joint employees that it was a strange sight to see a Rolls Royce pull through the drive through.
"I am a little distracted." I took the last bite of my burger and chewed thoughtfully. When Ian initially asked me on a date, the night of that fundraiser, I had only accepted with the intention to turn the entire thing around and ask him for money. But that wasn't how it worked out at all, and Ian became so important to me. I felt guilty even thinking of asking him now.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked, giving me the perfect opening to run right in and ask for money but I was still chewing.
He shoved a fry in his mouth as he turned into a ritzy neighborhood. I vaguely remembered these streets from the night I spent here previously, but even the next morning I had to rush out of his house while it was still dark. He had ushered me in and out so quickly I couldn't even remember what street it was or what his house looked like
"I, uh... It's a work thing," I told him, waving my hand in the air. Then I took my own fries and started shoving them in my mouth so I would have time to think about an answer before he asked any more questions.
"I know how that is. Work has been stressful for me lately too." He pushed a finger into his collar and pulled his tie away from his neck a little. I instantly felt so selfish for reaching to him for comfort without even pausing to think about his life and how he felt.
"God, I'm a douche. I'm so sorry." I dropped the fries into the bag and wiped my fingers with the brown paper napkin. "Do you need to talk about it?" The seatbelt felt like it was cutting across my chest. I was suddenly aware of every uncomfortable thing in my immediate vicinity and I felt sad that I had been so selfish.
"Nah, it's not that big of a deal. It's just normal adult stuff." He tried to sound convincing but something was bothering him.
I sat in awkward silence the rest of the way to his house wondering if this was the place we'd gotten to in our relationship. We were both bothered but unable to talk about it, and for some reason it felt like the beginning of the end.
When we pulled into his driveway I was impressed by the house. Under cover of nightfall I had missed the entire beauty of it. The topiary had been recently shaped and the under-window lighting gave the front of the brick troubadour-style house a welcome feel. I was amazed and again reminded how wealthy Ian was. It was intimidating and awe-inspiring all at the same time. Someone like him had chosen to date someone like me and I had no clue why.
"Wow, this is..." I knew I'd been here before but I'd been drunk and I didn't remember the lighting being on out front.
"Yeah, it's not as special as you think." Ian held the car door open for me as I climbed out and his nerves seemed to be getting worse.
"What are you talking about? It's incredible, Ian." If this was one of those "keeping up with the Joneses" sort of self-pity acts, I was going to shake him out of it.
"Let's just go inside," he said, placing a hand in the small of my back. I shut the car door and we walked up the path to the front door. He used his number pad to let us in and as soon as we stepped through the threshold I felt the wind leave his sails. He shut the door behind us as I meandered deeper into the belly of the mostly empty beast.
I expected lavish furnishings, art on the walls, a staff ready to serve me. Ian was a billionaire, or at least a millionaire. His web development agency was successful and he drove a Rolls. But his house wasn't at all reflective of that.
I stood there staring at a futon and a set of modest end tables with floor lamps I could pick up at any Walmart. His sneakers were on the ground near the fireplace that looked like it hadn't been used one time. Bare walls surrounded me but at least they were clean, and the carpet had one well-worn path from the futon toward the kitchen, which I'd seen more of than this room. Either Ian was posing as a wealthy person or he was so down-to-Earth he didn't have a need for material trappings. I prayed it was the latter.
"What's this?" I asked him, spinning around to see his slumped shoulders and pained expression. He licked his lower lip and pulled it into his mouth, biting it.
Judging by the expression on his face, his nerves during our drive had nothing to do with the work stress he was under and everything to do with the facade of his life. "Ian?" I asked, taking a step toward him. I didn't know what was happening, but it couldn't be all that bad, could it?
"So there's something you need to know, which I've been too embarrassed to tell you about." He couldn't even look me in the eye. I had completely forgotten my work struggles at that point and all of my attention was focused on Ian and how he felt right now.
"It's okay," I told him, snagging his hand and folding my fingers between his. Every ounce of compassion I had in my body welled up and reached toward him. I created a space inside my chest to let him speak, forcing my emotions away so I didn't react in any way that might make him feel judged or not cared for.
"This is all a bit of a farce..." He sighed and he tried to pull his hand away from mine but I held it fast and he looked me in the eye. "I bought the house and the car, and the Rolex, when I had a lot of hope for my future. I was stupid. I could have reinvested that money into my firm but I wanted to fit in with the guys. Ward, Gray, a few others, they all had lots of success in their worlds. I couldn't be out done..."
I could hear the regret oozing out of his mouth. He was ashamed and maybe a bit disappointed in himself. I knew the feeling all too well. When Olivia got wildly successful and started doing things that made her seem more well-off, I was jealous and wished I had the money to do them too--regular manicures and hair appointments. But I wasn't that person. And it seemed to me that Ian wasn't cut from the same cloth as Ward or Grayson. I didn't even know he and Ward were friends, that was just how different they were.
