Pretend I'm Yours_A Single Dad Romance

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Pretend I'm Yours_A Single Dad Romance Page 79

by Vivian Wood


  When she couldn’t see him any longer, Effie sighed and pulled out her phone. King had left it charging in the hallway, but she’d avoided it.

  There was no way she could deal with Thorne’s incessant texts or the gossip from Renee. Both of them seemed a world away.

  But there was no ignoring her mother.

  Effie knew she needed to get to her mom and Yaya before Thorne did. Otherwise, there was no telling what kind of story he would spin. Over the years, he’d watched her and knew exactly what to do. If he could get her mom firmly on his side, he knew his advantage was impenetrable.

  She held her breath as she listened to the rings on the other side.

  Please don’t answer, she prayed.

  “Hello?” Surprisingly, her mom’s voice sounded clear.

  “Mom?” she asked. Effie hated that her voice wavered.

  “Yes. Effie, where the hell are you?”

  There it was. The anger that always boiled right below the surface.

  Damn, Thorne called already.

  “I’m, uh—”

  “When you asked me to watch Yaya while you skittered away to some conference, which by the way I know is just an excuse to party on your clinic’s dime, I thought it would be for a day or two. When the hell are you getting back?”

  Effie breathed out a sigh of relief. Apparently Thorne hadn’t called her mom. It was strange, but maybe he was still trying to figure out how to weasel his way out of the whole cheating thing.

  “Mom, I’m… I’m not at a conference.”

  “Christ, Effie. What’s gotten into you? You’re the most goddamned selfish child a mother could ask for—”

  “Thorne’s cheating on me.”

  Her voice wavered and her eyes filled with tears. Shit, I thought there weren’t any tears left for him.

  “And?”

  “And?” she repeated. Effie stared into the pristine landscape outside. And?

  “Is that all?” her mom asked. “You strand your Yaya and me because your man’s doing what’s in his nature? The hell, Effie, I thought you were more mature than that. Are you just going to run away every time something like this happens?”

  “I… did you hear what I said?” she asked.

  “Of course I heard you! I’m not deaf. What, did you think marrying into one of the wealthiest, most influential families wasn’t going to have any strings attached?”

  “Mom—”

  “You shut up and listen to me. If you know what’s good for you, and us. It’s not just that Thorne comes from money, and a whole hell of a lot of it, or that he’s promised to take care of us. He’s good looking, he treats you right—”

  “He cheated on me, mom! I walked in on him—”

  “I said shut up. He’s never hit you, right? Never given you a beating? Never even emotionally abused you from what I can tell. Who gives a fuck if he wants to have a little fun on the side? Hell, I’d tell you to do the same if I didn’t know you’d be stupid enough to get caught. I’m guessing the pre-nup is going to have a pretty solid clause in case you go messing around. Euphemia, are you listening to me?”

  “Yes,” Effie said coldly.

  “This is about honor. Your honor. And your responsibility.”

  Effie wanted to laugh bitterly, but she held it in.

  The only reason I even bothered with Thorne is because you fangirl over his dad’s politics. And money.

  Effie could still remember how cringe-worthy it was every time Thorne got on a rampage about the “family politics.” She’d never considered herself a bleeding heart liberal, but he could certainly bring it out in her. They’d settled into a pattern early in their “relationship” where they largely avoided the whole political throwdown.

  Of course, that neutral territory had been wildly tested during the last election. Effie had been grateful when Thorne spent the majority of that year flying back and forth to D.C. on what he’d said was family business.

  Now, she thought it was more likely a piece of ass on the east coast that kept him there.

  For three years she’d stayed quiet. Quiet when Thorne needled and baited her with politics. Quiet when her mom gushed about how amazing Thorne and his father was. No more. On the other end of the line, she could still hear her mom as she blathered on about selfishness.

  “I need to stop you right there,” Effie said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You think I’m selfish? These past three years, they’ve all been for you. Okay, that’s not totally fair, it didn’t start out that way. Yes, I originally hooked up with Thorne because King did a number on me, alright? It was supposed to be a fling, and Thorne knew that too, but it got out of control—”

  “Effie—”

  “Let me finish. I stayed with him because of you. You and Yaya. You made it abundantly clear that it was in your best interest if I married him. He’s a freaking asshole, and you know it? What, you think just because he doesn’t beat the crap out of me he’s a good person? We have nothing in common, Mom! We don’t even like each other. And you want me to marry him?”

  “Effie, I’m trying to tell you what’s in your best interest. Young people are stupid, no offense. If you run around following your heart, you’re going to be in for a world of regret in a few years—”

  “That’s my choice to make, Mom. Okay? Not yours.”

  She heard her mom suck in breath between her teeth. Effie had never stood up to her mom like this before. It was good, cathartic, and a long time coming.

  “You’re ruining all our lives, Effie.”

  “No, Mom. Maybe just mine. You already ruined yours.”

  Before her mom could get in another word, Effie hung up the call.

  She was shaking, but fueled with a new sense of confidence.

  Thorne doesn’t get to control you anymore, she told herself. And neither does Mom.

  Before she could lose her nerve, she scrolled to Thorne’s name and pressed the CALL button. It was now or never.

  Adrenaline pumped through her. If she could survive that call with her mom, she could handle Thorne.

  He picked up on the second ring. “Effie? Where the fuck have you been—”

  “Where have I been?” she asked, incredulous. “Not screwing some random girl. You don’t get to be mad at me, Thorne. I’m sure you’ve made up all kinds of excuses and validations in your head, but that’s not how this is going to work.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Thorne asked with a cruel laugh. “Why don’t you tell me how this is going to ‘work’ then, Effie?”

  “We’re over. Though I’m sure you knew that. But I want you to know, this is going to be clean. I’m through letting you emotionally manipulate me through my mom—”

  “Your crazy mom isn’t—”

  “Be quiet and let me finish. We both know this whole thing was a sham, a big mistake that we just let snowball into whatever the hell this is. But one of us is going to have to call it quits, and it’s me. I don’t care about whatever I left at your place, and I don’t want you contacting me or anyone in my family again. You got it?”

  “Oh, I got it, Effie,” he said coolly. “There’s just one problem. Look, it’s not that I want to talk to your fucked up family, but considering I pay your mom’s mortgage, bills, and just about everything else, I’m afraid I will have to contact them.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, when you kick your low-life ‘tenants’ into the street, you have to let them know. It’s a bit more civilized than sending the police to force them out.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she said. “I’ll pay the goddamned bills, okay? I’m not asking you for anything.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt that you will. Or would. It’s just that you and your whole white trash family owes me back pay for all those bills of, what? Three years? I’ll have to check with my CPA.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, maybe your mom didn’t tell you. When we got engaged, I asked her to s
ign a little agreement. Just an effort of good faith, you know? Should you and I break up, she’s legally responsible for back pay of all housing-related costs that I paid for her. I have to tell you, Effie, I don’t know the exact amount off the top of my head, but it’s a lot.”

  “You’re a monster,” she said.

  She hadn’t known. No wonder her mom had been so adamant about her staying with Thorne.

  “Where are you?”

  “None of your business.”

  “None of my business? Actually, I think your location falls well into the parameters of what’s considered my business. Legally, I kind of own you. I know slavery is no longer kosher, unfortunately, but it’s the next best thing.”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  He laughed. “That’s okay. I’ll find out where you are. I’ll find you. And I’ll make you listen to reason.”

  A chill shot through her. Effie hung up the phone and pressed the power button as hard as she could until the screen went black.

  She knew that Thorne was low, but she didn’t think he was that demonic. Effie chewed at her lip and began to pace from the living room to the kitchen doorway. As she padded along the wooden floor, the little rabbit began to shuffle about in its box.

  Effie leaned down and examined the little furball. The confines of the box forced him to rest. Already, she thought she saw more confidence in putting weight on the injured paw.

  Is this how it looked to Thorne? Was she a rabbit, trapped in a box and grateful for the scraps of vegetables?

  She nearly screamed when the door flew open. Effie’s heart pounded in her chest, but when she saw King in the doorway a sheet of calm fell over her.

  “No luck,” he said with a shake of his head. “This snow’s got all the animals—hey, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Effie ducked her head and fussed over the rabbit. She felt tears prick at her eyes.

  King walked briskly towards her. He didn’t even bother to remove his boots.

  “Don’t give me that,” he said. “You think I don’t know you even that much? What happened?”

  “I made some calls,” she said quietly.

  “And?”

  She breathed out. “Well, I called my mom. And that went about as you’d expect.”

  “Your mom’s intense,” he said softly. King placed a big hand on her back. The coolness against her warm skin was soothing. “You know she’ll get over it.”

  “It’s not that simple. I… I also called Thorne.”

  She felt King bristle, but he didn’t remove his hand.

  “How’d that go?” he finally asked.

  Effie shrugged.

  “I mean, I broke it off. The engagement,” she said.

  She wanted to tell King more, about how his brother threatened her and said he was going to kick her whole family out on the street. But what was the point? All that would do is start some brand new family drama.

  Haven’t you caused enough backlash in their family?

  “Why is that a bad thing?” King asked.

  She looked up into his eyes.

  Was he hitting on her?

  She couldn’t tell, but it seemed implausible. She’d just broken up with his brother. And if she told King about the deal they’d all made, that Thorne would take care of her family if she married him, what would he think about her?

  She shook her head. It felt like she was a prostitute. And there’s no way King would ever understand.

  “Do we have anything harder than wine to drink?” she asked.

  King grinned. “There’s brandy.”

  “Go get it.”

  All she wanted to do was drift away and forget. It was easy at the cabin. Like there was nobody else in the world. Her phone was just a link to some far-away place where there was turmoil and hatred.

  But here? With King? The world was all theirs.

  King emerged in the doorway with a nearly-full amber bottle in one hand and two crystal tumblers in the other.

  “Be careful what you wish for,” he said.

  10

  King

  King generously filled the tumblers halfway with his father’s best brandy.

  He knew it was dangerous, and that there was more to the phone calls than what Effie was saying. He hated to admit it, but he kind of hoped the drink would open her up. King desperately wanted to hear that she was done with Thorne for good.

  He didn’t know what might come of that news. But for the first time in years he was high on a kind of hope he hadn’t felt since high school.

  “What are we drinking to?” he asked as he handed her the glass. She sniffed the brandy and wrinkled her nose.

  “I don’t know if I’m in a toasting mood,” she said. “Why don’t we play a game instead?”

  “Poker?” he asked. “That’s pretty much all we have here. With the naked lady cards.”

  “Sure.”

  He felt her eyes on him as he reached for the pack on the coffee table. King had to push away two romance books, a tangled mess of earbuds, and a balled-up jacket to find the pack. Effie settled back into the couch and cupped the tumbler in her hand.

  “You’re seriously as messy as a man,” he said with a laugh.

  “Hey! We’re snowbound with no idea of when we can escape. I think a little messiness is the least of our worries.”

  “Okay, okay,” he conceded. “So, what are we playing?”

  “Five card draw. Let’s keep it easy.” They clinked glasses and King raised the tumbler to his lips as he shook the cards out of the case.

  “Hey!” Effie called.

  “What?”

  “It’s bad luck not to make eye contact after you touch glasses.” He stared into her eyes as she took the tiniest sip and made a face.

  “Gross,” she said.

  “You asked for harder than wine.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get used to it.”

  The rounds went quickly. They were equally matched, which made the game almost numbing.

  “We really need to make this more interesting,” King said.

  “If you’re hinting at strip poker, that is so not happening. And not just because it’s freezing ass cold.”

  “Hey, I keep the fire going. No complaints. And besides, I wasn’t hinting for strip poker.”

  “Okay, then, what?”

  King put down the cards. “Another game. What was your favorite in college?”

  Effie looked to the ceiling. “Flip cup.”

  “Yeah, we don’t have beer, cups to flip, or any kind of decent table. What else?”

  “Kings?”

  “I’m tired of cards.”

  “Never have I ever?”

  “Now we’re talking. But first, you really need to catch up.” King motioned to her glass. He just had one sip left and hers was almost full. “It’s no fun, and not fair. You’ll have an advantage.”

  “You’re like twice my size!” she protested. “We’re probably on equal grounds with the brandy.”

  King shook his head and pretended to scoff.

  “Sorry Effie, rules are rules. Everybody knows Never Have I Ever is only allowed when all players have had at least one full drink. But just so you’re not at a disadvantage, I’ll have two drinks to your one. Sound fair?”

  “Okay, fine,” she said.

  He watched as she pinched her nose and took a long swallow.

  “Ugh, it burns,” she said.

  “That’s because you’re not supposed to shoot it. You want to know a trick?”

  “Drown it in Coke?”

  “Okay, that’s gross,” he said. “No, this is how you drink brandy. Hold it at the apex of your tongue for six seconds. Then slowly swallow. Your saliva and tongue dilute it so that it’s smooth. If it burns your throat, it’s either cheap liquor or you’re not drinking it right. And trust me, this is Dad’s. It’s not cheap.”

  He watched as Effie held the brandy in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. “Hey, it works! Eith
er that or I’m getting drunk.”

  “Maybe a little of both.”

  By the time she made her way to the bottom of the glass, she didn’t wince or flinch at the taste.

  “It’s actually not bad,” she said. “But I think it would be better on the rocks.”

  “Personal preference, but I think in the winter months having it neat is better. It’s cozier.”

  “Okay, liquor expert. I had my drink, do I qualify to play now?”

  “I suppose you’ve passed all the entry requirements. You want to go first?”

  “Sure. Wait, this is weird with two people. How are we playing? Am I supposed to say things I’ve never done that I think or know you have? Or are we doing the whole freshman-in-college desperately trying to show off thing and say things I actually have done so I can drink?”

  “Wow, you’re really into the rules. How about the former? Try and guess what I’ve done.”

  Effie laughed. “You think you’re so mysterious. Okay. Never have I ever… met an A-list celebrity.”

  King took a swallow as Effie squealed. “I knew it! All those years in L.A. Who was it?”

  He wagged his finger at her. “I don’t have to tell that. You didn’t name a specific celebrity and neither will I.”

  “Oh, my God, stop! Just tell me—”

  “Maybe later. If you’re good.”

  She rolled her eyes at him, looking like she used to high school. King couldn’t figure out what it was about her. She was draped across the couch in his old running shorts and a thick-strapped tank top that was falling off one shoulder, but it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  “My turn,” he said. “Never have I ever watched porn on my computer.”

  “Bull,” she said and eyed him over the tumbler. “You have to say things you haven’t done and guess about me.”

  “No bullshit,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t watch porn often, admittedly. But when I do I stream it to the television or use my phone. I’ve honestly never watched it on a computer.”

  “That’s cheating,” she said.

 

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