“Exactly. Realistically we are the only family each other has. We really should try to get along better.”
“I’d get along with you just fine if you stopped trying to make me sell my company.”
“It’s hardly your company, I’m the one who does all the work.”
“I own fifty percent.”
“Pretty good for doing sweet fuck all,” I say, trying to contain the familiar old anger rising within me.
“Fuck you, I’m going.”
“I don’t want to talk about the company. It’s not an issue anymore anyway. I just wanted to reach out to you and say we should get a drink sometime, and try to be nice to each other.”
“What do you mean it’s not an issue anymore?”
I take a sharp inhale of breath. Do I tell him now? Is it too soon? Is the clause something I should keep secret from him?
“Tell me!”
“Calm down.”
“I don’t believe this. You call me up out of the blue and say you want to be my buddy? Then you tell me that selling the company isn’t an issue anymore? Are you high?”
“No, I’m not high, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then why did you call me?”
“Because I am tired of fighting with my only brother.”
“And this business about selling the company not mattering anymore? Does that mean you’ve come to your senses and don’t want to get rid of the mega corporation with our name on it?” His voice is whiny and patronizing and really fucking annoying.
I speak without thinking, “Nah, I’m selling the company, I just don’t need your permission anymore.”
“Huh? Why?” he snaps.
“Because I’m going to be a father, and my child gets an equal say. So your fifty percent of the company is about to become a third.”
George erupts in laughter, the sound grates on me and I hold the phone away from my ear.
“You’re going to be a father? What did you do, offer one of your whores a big chunk of money to have your baby?”
“No need.”
“Well, since you only see escorts there’s no way you suddenly met someone and fell in love.” He drags out the word love, saying it as if it’s the dumbest concept ever.
“It’s none of your business.”
“So it is an escort,” he chuckles.
“Nope.”
“Ah, so it’s a woman who’s pretending she’s not after your money. She’s counting down the days until she can get a big whopping divorce settlement.”
“Trust me, she’s not.”
“Whatever you want to believe.”
I think back over all my time with Grace. As far as I’m concerned, there’s zero chance that she’s after my money. But I don’t feel the need to justify my belief to George.
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. All I’m calling for is to smooth things over.”
Ownership numbers run through my mind, and I realize I might be able to sell the company before the baby is born. “Actually, I’m giving you the chance to sell now. That way you get half of the proceeds. If you wait until the baby is born, you will get a third. That’s worth almost one and a third billion dollars. Surely you understand that you should sell now.”
The line goes silent for a moment and I think he’s hung up on me, but then he coughs. It turns into a coughing fit, but I don’t feel the need to ask him if he’s okay. Instead I wait patiently for him to admit total defeat.
“Maybe once the sale is finalized we can put the past behind us and be civil to each other.”
“Fuck you and your whore,” he roars, and I start in surprise.
“I told you—”
“I know, I know, she’s not a whore.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s just someone who’ll do anything for money.”
“Who cares if she is only after my money? It’s irrelevant. The baby is what matters.”
“What really happened? A drunken one-night stand and you forgot to put a condom?”
“I didn’t forget anything.” My blood is boiling and I’m running out of patience fast.
“So, this baby was planned?”
“Yes, this baby was planned. Absolutely!” I shout in reflex, standing up.
“All to force me to sell?”
“Yes, you wouldn’t sell the company any other way. So I had to have a baby. And now you have to sell.” Words are coming out of my mouth without me thinking about anything other than crushing George.
I turn around, looking for something to throw, and come face to face with Grace. She’s standing just the other side of the open door, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.
She’s dressed in her jeans and T-shirt from last night, but is barefoot.
“Grace,” I say softly, dropping the phone and taking a step to her.
“No, no, no,” she stammers, and runs away.
“Hello? Leo?” George’s far-away voice says as I’m frozen in spot, stunned.
Chapter 34
Grace
I have to get out of here. Rushing through the hallway, I spy my shoes. They’re several feet apart and at odd angles, left where I’d kicked them off last night in our eagerness to get naked.
And now this.
Leo planned the baby? He must not have put a condom on that day. I thought I saw him do it. Over the past several weeks my mind has replayed an image of him rolling it down his shaft. But I guess it was wishful thinking.
He intentionally got me pregnant.
I slip my foot into the first shoe. As I scoop up the second, I sense that Leo is behind me. Refusing to look around, I instead scan the entrance for my purse.
“It was a lie,” Leo says, his voice unsure.
All I can think about is getting my purse and leaving. I’ll figure out what to do after that, but there’s no way I can stay here. Not with him. Not after what he did.
With my left shoe in my hand, I yank on the strap of the well-worn purse, propelling it into my body. I’m three steps to the door and cover the distance as fast as I can.
Holding the purse and shoe in one hand, I reached for the door handle with the other. My hand wraps around the chrome fitting with a slight tremor. I try to pull it open, but Leo’s rugged hand flattens itself on the door just above the handle.
“Let me open the door,” I say, my voice is robotic but inside I’m struggling to hold myself together.
Last night was the most perfect night of my entire life. I never expected to wake up to this. Although it’s better I found out sooner rather later.
“Talk to me,” he says.
His eyes burn into my cheek, but I refuse to look at him. Instead I study the grain of the maple door.
“Please, Gracie, come and sit down.”
“No.”
His hand inches lower and I brace for contact with his skin, but he stops just above the handle.
Part of me longs for his touch, but it’s too risky. His touch electrifies me, and I’d crumble.
The things he said on the phone play through my mind. The baby was planned. This was all a scheme to make his brother sell. He doesn’t care about me or the baby, all he is is a spoiled billionaire who found a way to force his brother to sell.
I am so stupid.
Flicking open my eyes, I grit my teeth and say, “Open the door.”
“You can’t go like this. Hear me out.”
“I heard everything I need to hear.”
“No, you didn’t, you heard a stupid fool who lied to his brother in order to win an argument.”
“Is everything about you winning an argument with your brother?”
“Look at me.” His eyes bore into the side of my face, but I refuse to meet his gaze.
“Open. The. Door.”
“We can’t stand here all day like this.”
“Exactly, now open the door.”
“My brother got me so riled up that I said things that I didn’t mean and that weren’t true. I don’t
know how much you heard but believe me none of it was true. I was talking bullshit.”
“It’s funny how it’s only bullshit because I overheard it. You thought I was sleeping, and the truth came out.” I release my grip on the handle.
“It wasn’t the truth. The truth is I love you. I love this baby, even though it wasn’t planned. And I know you’re not after my money.” He strokes down the outside of my arm as he speaks, gingerly, holding himself back from embracing me.
My skin sparks at the contact and I focus on my anger to stop myself from melting against him. The baby was planned. He didn’t wear a condom. He lied.
“It doesn’t matter if you love me, you can’t found a relationship on a lie. Hell, it’s worse than a lie. You intentionally made me pregnant without my consent. Now open the fucking door.” My voice rises as I speak until I sound hysterical. I tried to calm myself by breathing deeply through my nose, instead it makes me feel lightheaded.
This whole situation is making me feel lightheaded. All I want to do is sit by myself and cry. I’m doing my best to contain my emotions until I’m somewhere that I can deal with them but a tear escapes and trickles down my cheek.
“I can’t let you go. Not like this. You’re angry and upset, but you’ll understand, I know you will.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel.”
“I’ll tell you how I feel then. Stupid. Idiotic. Desperate to keep the only woman I’ve ever really loved from walking out this door on me.”
His arm moves around my shoulder. Somehow, I find it within me to shrug it off.
“I’ll tell you how I feel — stupid for ever trusting you. I kept asking you how I got pregnant. I think I knew the truth all along, but I was in denial. This is too big to overcome, Leo. There is no way I can forget what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything. I swear, Grace, I wore a condom. I had no intention of getting you pregnant. That would be an awful thing to do. Trust me, if I’d wanted to get someone pregnant I would have just paid them.”
“And I’m supposed to believe it was all just some miraculous coincidence that the baby would allow you to sell the company you are so desperate to get rid of,” I say, sarcasm dripping through my words.
“Yes! It was a pure fluke.”
“Open the door.”
“I can’t let you walk out of my life.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll put your name on the birth certificate and you will be able to sell your precious company.”
“I don’t care about any of that, I want to be a father to my child.”
“We’ll work out some sort of shared custody.”
“Don’t talk like that, Grace. I need you.”
“And I need to sort through my thoughts. Now let me go.” I slam my hand against the door. I can barely make out the wood grain, my eyes are so full of tears. I try to blink them away, but the action only causes them to escape and fall down my cheeks.
I start slamming my hand over and over against the door. My hand stings but I keep hitting it. All I want to be is on the other side, the side away from Leo. Leo the liar.
“Fine,” he says, and pulls his hand from the door. “Go, clear your head and come back when you realize that I’m telling you the truth.”
I grab the handle and fling open the door. As I stick my bare foot over the threshold, Leo says, “I’m telling you the truth. Remember that.” His voice is strained, lost. The tone is almost enough to draw me back inside.
The words the baby was planned are drawn to the front of my mind and I march down the hall to the elevator. Thankfully the elevator is waiting, and I step in it without hesitating.
The second the door shuts the tears roll faster down my cheeks. I wipe them with the back of my hand, trying at the same time to put on my other shoe.
It dings, and the door opens into the lobby. In a futile attempt to look composed, I wipe my cheeks one more time. I half jog to the exit, rush through it and get straight into a waiting cab.
I slump into the seat, feeling as though I weigh a million pounds. I have no idea what to do or where to go.
“Just drive,” I tell the cabbie.
“Sure thing,” he says.
My eyes struggle to focus on the passing buildings as I try to deal with my immediate situation and figure out where to go. I don’t know anyone in New York, and then one person pops into my head.
Anna.
Chapter 35
Leo
My chest heaves as Grace steps into the elevator. I want to go after her, to physically restrain her and drag her back into my apartment, but I know that won’t achieve anything. It would only make her angrier.
How could I have been so stupid? George always riles me up and makes me lose control of myself. Why did I ever have that conversation when Grace was around?
I stare blankly down the hall for several minutes, hoping that she changes her mind and is about to step out of the elevator again. When it becomes clear that she’s not coming back, I give up and drag myself back into my den.
Flopping onto the sofa, I stare up at the ceiling and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes.
Fucking George, all he’s ever done is cause me problems. I think I actually hate him. There was never any point in trying to rebuild our relationship. That implies we had a relationship in the first place, and we didn’t.
My only real family now is Grace and the baby. Which is fine by me, they’re all the family I need or want.
I resist looking at my watch. Though it seems like forever has passed, Grace only just left. She needs time to think. But even if she does forgive me, is she going to spend her entire life thinking what I said to George was true?
The idea is ripping me apart inside.
Maybe I should at least send her a message. My phone lies abandoned on the floor. Reluctantly I expose my eyes to the daylight again and pick up the phone.
I miss you already. If you need any money, let me know.
After hitting send, I stare at the screen, willing her to text me back. Nothing. I’m not surprised.
I stretch back on the sofa and think of last night. She loved the giraffes. Doesn’t that prove to her how I really feel? And afterwards, the way I made her tremble in my arms should be everything she needs to know about why we belong together.
My phone beeps and I jolt up but it’s only a message from one of my vice presidents. Work is the last thing I’m going to think about right now and I toss the phone onto the cushion beside me.
Instead, I let memories of Grace fill my head until I realize I’m actually crying over how badly I fucked up. The last, and only, time I cried was at my mother’s funeral.
Images of Grace fill my head and her laugh sounds in my ears. Even though it was a sad circumstance, the time spent at her sister’s house was the happiest I’ve ever been.
The whole experience was further proof that I need to get away from the pressures of New York City. My child will grow up without being burdened by this lifestyle.
Grace and I talked about the best place to raise a family during the night in the motel. At that point we’d decided on Vermont or Maine but now I’m thinking Tennessee might be the best option.
Charity and her children are great, and it would be nice to be near family. Although I’m not sure I’d want to live in that town. And we’d have to be near good schools because I don’t want to send my children to boarding school.
I want to see them every day.
The longer I think about Grace and the future, the more worried I get. My stomach is in knots. What if she doesn’t come back?
The temptation is too much to resist, and I pick up my phone and tap out another text.
I understand that you need time. Let’s talk as soon as possible. Please.
My thumb hovers over the send button. I sound needy. I am needy, but I don’t want to come across that way. Especially since she’s only been gone an hour. Is an hour too soon to try to phone?
Fuck it. Who cares how I come acros
s, as long as she comes back. I press send. Once again I stare at my screen, waiting in vain for a reply.
Eventually I set down the phone and wonder what to do now. I should’ve chased after her. I never should’ve let her leave the apartment.
I definitely shouldn’t have called George.
A dozen more things I shouldn’t have done play through my head on repeat but no matter how much I beat myself up nothing changes. Grace doesn’t call.
My stomach is still churning with knots but I’m struggling to think of anything to do and sneak into the kitchen without my staff noticing. I grab a fresh apricot danish and another cup of coffee and slink back to my den.
The phone lays on the couch, taunting me with its black screen. No new text messages. No missed phone calls in the few minutes it took to get to the kitchen and back.
Fuck it. I can’t wait any longer. I snatch up the phone and call Grace.
My heart hammers against my ribs as it rings.
Please Grace, pick up, I chant silently to myself. It goes to voicemail. For some reason I’m caught off guard, and breathe into the phone instead of saying anything. I don’t know what to say. Shaking my head, I press end call.
And call back again. And then a third time.
She needs longer to think. But what is she thinking about? She either believes me or she doesn’t. She can either forgive me or not. How long is that going to take?
Sighing, I click on the TV in an attempt to distract myself. It’s impossible to watch anything, instead I flick through the channels while thinking about Grace.
Where did she go? Is she safe?
Now I’m overcome with fear for her safety. She doesn’t know New York City at all and I have no idea how much money she has access to, but I don’t think it’s much.
Somehow, I get sucked into an old World War II movie. When it ends, I’m relieved when I realize an hour has passed and skip through the rest of the channels, looking for another movie to distract myself with.
Partway through watching another movie, I get really agitated and don’t know what to do with myself. Grace still hasn’t texted or called. What if she doesn’t come back today? Or even worse, tonight?
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