His Dirty Bargain

by Fiona Murphy

  Even as I’m looking at what I wrote, I want to call it back. I don’t want to go back to my two flat, but damn it, if he’s out of town then I don’t want to be in the condo without him. His response comes fast.

  Don’t even think about it. You leave the condo I’ll spank your ass until you can’t sit down for weeks, and you won’t like it.

  Fucker.

  Already on my way to pack my stuff. Enjoy England.

  As soon as I hit send, I block his number in anger. How is he so damn good at making me hate him? Without any other appointments, I say fuck it and go to the condo to pack. I’m not going to threaten him and not follow through. I fucked up, I get it, but this is bullshit.

  I’m in the walk-in closet throwing my clothes into my suitcase when I hear the front door slam with enough force it feels like the whole place shakes. I freeze; no way. The thought is barely complete before I hear him roar my name from the hallway. Without thinking I tear off my blouse and shove down my skirt. He fills the open doorway of the walk-in closet, breathing fire and holy fuck he’s stunning in his rage. One day, he’s not going to kick over bees in my tummy; one day he’s not going to make me wet at the sight of him; when that day comes, I’ll still have a shit ton of memories from when he did, and that’s almost the same thing.

  His eyes flick to the open suitcase then down my body, covered only in the black silk bra with sheer cups worn this morning to entice him. The panties are laughable, they don’t protect me or hide how wet I am.

  “You aren’t going anywhere.” He growls from low in his chest.

  “I think that depends. Are you going to England, or are you staying here with me in Chicago and sleeping in our bed?”

  The lines in his forehead deepen. “It’s business.”

  “No, it’s not. This is us. And if it really is business, I need to know if I’m going to come before business.”

  He sighs. He looks tired; did he get any sleep last night? “Chloe, there are going to be times—”

  It hurts, it shouldn’t, a part of me knew it was coming, but damn it hurts so bad. “Fuck you, leave. Just go.” Shame fills me as I yank a shirt out of my open suitcase.

  “Chloe.” A hand goes around my wrist. Anger gives me the strength to pull hard then push him away.

  “I mean it. Don’t touch me. Go, go make more money, I get the message loud and clear.” I want to scream I’m leaving his ass, he can take his prenup and the stupid house and building and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine but I don’t dare, the words won’t come because as much as I’m hurting, I know walking away will hurt worse. “I won’t leave, but I can’t look at you right now. Please leave.”

  Then he does what I never expected: he just walks away. Long after the front door has closed behind him, I slide down the island and cry until there are no tears left.

  ***

  Chloe

  Enzo is gone for four days. He leaves Birmingham, England for Madrid the second day, then is stopping back in Birmingham on his way back. His texts inform me, that’s all they do. There’s nothing beyond the information he needs to relay. He’ll be back Friday morning in time for Dante to use the jet to go to New York, he’ll be gone Friday and Saturday. Dante has asked if we would stay in the condo until he gets back so Bethany isn’t alone. My response is one word of “fine;” one big, empty space over another doesn’t matter to me anymore.

  “Tell me I’m doing the right thing. Tell me I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life and this all won’t end in a complete clusterfuck.” I plead with Bethany as she knits happily away in front of the television. Tomorrow Enzo comes home. I don’t know what to do, as if I was going to do anything other than take him any way I could get him.

  Setting the knitting down, Bethany studies me. “You need a hug? You’re all weepy. You weren’t like that the last time you asked me to tell you all of that.”

  I’m so pathetic. I nod as I hug her. “He left, Bethany, he walked away. We’re having an important argument on what is going to matter in our marriage, and he chooses money.”

  Bethany sighs as she rubs my back. “Honey, I don’t think he meant it though. The thing with these Sabatinis is if they don’t have the whole heart/love thing down, they get skittish and run like a horse when someone left the barn door open. He got off the plane for you; Phil said they were ready to taxi when Enzo told him to turn around. That’s not a money-is-more-important kind of moment.”

  “It felt like it. He wasn’t willing to talk to me. I mean, god, I’ve twisted it around in my head and I can’t figure out how to make it right, but he’s not even going to try?”

  “That’s what he’s doing now. He’s leaking stuff to the press, he’s making sure he’s being seen putting in the work for the fund so it looks like business as usual. Whether you like it or not, it’s not just Enzo’s money at stake, it’s the hundreds of investors and the companies that all that money is invested in. It’s not just about you and him.”

  Groaning, I sit up. “Please stop making sense.”

  Her cell phone rings on the table. “Huh, it’s the front desk. Hello?” She looks at me. “Adam Singer?” I nod. “We’re in Dante’s condo if you can direct him, please.”

  “What the hell does he want?” I wonder as I scramble off the couch. I’m in yoga pants and a T-shirt I’ve stolen from Enzo. Taking out my ponytail, I run my fingers through my hair then make a tighter, cleaner ponytail.

  A ping sounds from somewhere above us. “I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”

  Seconds later the doorbell sounds. I go into the foyer. When I open the door, the change in Adam from the last time I saw him is a shock: he looks like he hasn’t slept or changed clothes since that dinner.

  He swallows. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I needed to talk to you.”

  Nodding, I open the door. Bethany is at my back. “This is my sister-in-law, Bethany Sabatini.”

  A bobbing nod at Bethany is all he gives before looking at me again. “I want to start by apologizing. Honestly, I had no intention, not a single one, of attempting to capitalize on what you let slip at dinner. I swear. Then the more I thought about it, the more Russell wouldn’t let it drop, I let my imagination run away from me. There was also the way he kept pressing me, I became more...I don’t know, stupid about how valuable the information was. He wouldn’t let it go and believe I wasn’t going to use it. Wondering out loud if Enzo could get me a job or reference, that was all it was, wondering what I could ask for.

  “It didn’t mean I was going to. It was like holding a lottery ticket right before you look to see if you’ve won, vaguely wondering what it could get you. Russell is more important to me than all of that but he, he thought I was serious. He broke up with me. He won’t believe me. I need someone to believe me. I’ll sign something swearing I’ll never talk about it. Anything you or Enzo want, I’ll do it.”

  I want to hug him and slap him at the same time. “You idiot.”

  Nodding, he brushes tears from his eyes. “Do you think there’s any chance Russell will ever forgive me?”

  He’s down too low for me to kick him further by telling him I highly doubt it. Instead I invite him in for tea and to figure out how to put his promise into legal form.

  ***

  Enzo

  The jet has barely landed when my cell goes off. It’s Dante. “Yeah.”

  “You on time?”

  “Yeah, damn. It needs a refuel but there’s no one in front of you. You’ll be ready to take off in an hour. You ready?”

  “Hell, yes. The sooner I get there the sooner I can get back. Have I congratulated you lately on picking Chloe?”

  “What about Chloe?”

  “She didn’t tell you? Interesting. The guy you were worried about came by the condo last night a sniveling mess over Russell breaking up with him. Dude swears he didn’t mean it, he was just wondering, not intent on blackmail or anything. Chloe got your firm lawyer on the phone, got an NDA drafted and filed
yesterday. You can stop flying all around kingdom come to prove anything.”

  Fuck, I’m so immersed in what Dante is saying, I walk right past my car. Everett has to grab me by the arm and pull me back toward the car. “When did all this happen?”

  “Yesterday, I said that. She got it done before I got home for dinner.”

  So before I texted her I was on schedule for arrival today. Why the hell didn’t she tell me?

  I barely pay attention as Dante ends the call. I’m supposed to head to the office but I want to see Chloe, now. Fuck. Four whole days without her and I was in agony. Sunday night, I slept on the couch in Che’s old office. I hated it; having Chloe so close, but not sleeping with her, was physically painful. But I couldn’t. Anger still filled me, and I didn’t trust myself to touch her when I was angry. There’s a difference between anger and passion and she’s too damn small; fear filled me at what could happen to her. The idea of hurting her scared the shit out of me. I refused to take the chance until I could rid myself of the anger. It was the main reason I got the hell out of Chicago.

  My head goes back as I close my eyes, remembering the pain in Chloe’s eyes, how it was stamped all over her face. The way she told me she couldn’t look at me. I hate the way I hurt her, except even then the anger simmered at the edge of me, so I did what I could do: I walked away. And I’ve regretted it ever since.

  As the day ticks down I check the clock often, counting down to the time when I can see Chloe again. I text her:

  Will you be ready to leave at five tonight?

  I’m about to lose it when she finally responds.

  I’m with a client. She’s got dinner plans for seven, we’ll be done by six.

  At least it isn’t the one-word responses I’ve been getting.

  Dinner at Goldfinches six thirty?

  Her response comes through fast.

  Sounds good

  I’m wrapping up my day a little after four thirty so I can go home and change when my phone rings. It’s Bethany’s ringtone. I’m expecting her to lay into me about Chloe so when she says my name, her voice dripping with fear, I freeze.

  “What’s the matter, Bethany?”

  “It’s the baby.” Her fear skims down my spine. I drop the file I’m holding, I just get up and start walking.

  I stop in front of Pauline’s desk; she catches my eye. “What about the baby, Bethany?” Pauline’s eyes go wide and she nods, understanding. That covered, I keep walking.

  “He hasn’t moved all day. Like at all. I’ve been up since seven this morning. At first, I barely noticed, you know, but by noon I did. I tried to make him move, poking him, eating hot stuff, nothing. I called the doctor’s office and they are all, it happens, everything is fine. But Enzo, what if it’s not?”

  I’m already in a cab, on the way home. “Okay, deep breaths. Are you dressed and ready to leave?”

  She sniffles. “No, not really.”

  “Throw something on. We’re going to the doctor. A sonogram, right that’s what they can use to check on him the quickest and easiest way?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, I’m almost home, less than five minutes. I’m going to hang up and talk to your doctor. Then we’re going to have a sonogram done.”

  “Thank you, Enzo. I’ll be downstairs in less than five minutes.”

  “All right, I’ll be there. Five minutes.”

  Another sniffle as she sighs. “Thank you.”

  Hanging up, I work my phone to bring up Bethany’s doctor. For once Dante’s paranoia paid off: he put the doctor’s number in my phone when he first found out Bethany was pregnant again. The front desk isn’t happy to talk to me since I’m not the father. They get even less happy when I demand a sonogram for Bethany, the woman says some stupid shit about insurance. I tell her I’ll buy the damn machine in cash if that’s what it will take. When I threaten to sue she folds. The technician hasn’t left for the day, if we can get there within the next half hour they’ll do it. We’ll be there.

  Bethany is waiting on the sidewalk, and I open the cab door for her. The fear is in every inch of her; both hands clutch at her stomach as if by doing so she can keep her baby safe. I give the cabbie the address.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t, don’t even think it. It’s going to be fine. He’s paying you back for calling him a chill, easy baby.”

  Wiping her eyes. “You think?”

  “He’s Dante’s kid, isn’t he? No doubt. Did I ever tell you about the time Dante got out of bed in the middle of the night to help the next-door neighbor girl watch for the tooth fairy? He was all of seven years old. It was thirty degrees out, they climbed up a tree with binoculars. My dad freaked out, tore the house up looking for Dante, he woke up everyone. We searched the house for an hour, then we went into the backyard. We were shouting for Dante but the brat didn’t say a word, he got scared he would be in trouble. We were so loud it woke the neighbors, then they found their daughter missing. The police were called, and there were about seven cop cars lining our block. Dante and the girl were by this time scared shitless they would be in trouble. Then just as the cops are prepping sniffer dogs, Dante falls out of the tree because he was half frozen and couldn’t hold on anymore, then the girl comes tumbling out too, right on top of him. She broke his arm. I’m pretty sure the broken arm is what saved him for being grounded until he was thirteen.”

  “You’re lying. He’s never told me that. He swore he was a good kid, the best out of all three of you.”

  I laugh. “Not even close. One Easter he found the stash of candy for the baskets for all three of us kids. He hid in a closet eating all of the candy, every last piece. When my dad found him he was miserable. My dad grabbed him to take him to his room for punishment, and Dante threw up all over my dad’s and his new shoes that had been bought for Easter.”

  “Oh my god, no wonder he hates Easter. He made me promise we wouldn’t do the whole Easter egg hunt and basket thing. He’s a big fat liar.”

  “If you want to pay him back, just wave some Peeps in front of him, you know, the sugar-covered marshmallows in front of him. To this day he swears he gets nauseous just thinking of them, but smelling them, he gags.”

  Bethany’s laughter fills the car. Tension eases in me, until we pull up in front of the large building. “In here?”

  “Yeah, it’s full of all kinds of doctors’ and medical testing offices. My doctor is on the eleventh floor.”

  “Okay.” Her hand wraps around my arm. I cover her hand. “Everything is going to be fine.”

  She nods but doesn’t say anything.

  The receptionist is a hell of a lot nicer than she was on the phone, directing us down a hallway. I open the door to find a middle-aged woman with a smiling face waiting.

  “Hi, I’m Aileen. I hear we have a stubborn little man today.”

  Bethany runs through her fear. Aileen nods, understanding. “Let’s take a look.”

  I move away, expecting Bethany to want privacy, but she doesn’t let go of my arm. I nod and move closer. There’s no hesitation as she lifts her shirt and tucks it under her breasts. Aileen apologizes as she squirts out a clear, jelly-like fluid on Bethany’s bump, which seems much larger now that I’m really looking.

  “Okay, you hear it, Mommy? There’s his heartbeat nice and strong.”

  “Is that normal?” It sounds too rapid to be right.

  “Yes, perfectly normal. Ah, there he is he’s turned, and from the notes here it looks like he’s grown a whole two inches from your last appointment. He’s head down now and he doesn’t have as much room to move. He likely moved overnight and is still wondering what happened. No more doing flips because there’s not enough room.”

  Bethany sighs, and starts crying. “I’m sorry. I just...”

  “Oh now, no worries. I saw in your file what you went through. It would make anyone gun shy. Have you tried this?” She goes to a standing cabinet. Taking a large box out, she brings it back to Bethany. “
You can listen to the baby’s heartbeat anytime you want.”

  “Please, can I have this?” Bethany looks up at me hopefully.

  “Of course, anything you want.”

  Aileen smiles. “we’ll just add it on for the visit.”

  Clutching the box, Bethany smiles as she wipes her eyes. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

  We’re on the sidewalk outside of the medical building as I hail a taxi.

  “Enzo?”

  “If you tell me thank you or you’re sorry one more time, I’m not going to help you get Dante with the Peeps.”

  “No, I was going to ask if we can stop for some food. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten in hours.”

  “Yeah, of course. What do you want?”

  The cabby is driving with glee clear up north for a specific burger place, then back downtown to the condo. Bethany wasn’t kidding: she’s so hungry she finishes her food before we get home. She’s beginning to sag as we get into the elevator. I remember now Dante talking about how once she’s tired she just crashes, pretty much where she stands. Considering she’s been on adrenalin for the last hour or so, it makes sense she’s crashing now. By the time the elevator opens, I have to heft her up in my arms. Damn she’s small.

  I manage to get the door open and her down the hall. Chloe is waiting at the end of the hallway. “What’s the matter?”

  Laying Bethany on her bed, I look to Chloe. “Can you get her comfortable? We’ll talk outside.”

  It only takes a few minutes before Chloe is back. “Is she okay?”

  “Now she is. She got scared because the baby didn’t move all day. I got her in to get a sonogram so she could see and hear everything is good. She’s exhausted from all the worry.”

  Her nod is stiff. “It’s a good thing you were here. Okay, I’ll see you later.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Russell needs me. He’s having a hard time right now. He asked for company.”

  “We had dinner plans.”

  “Had. I was at the restaurant, you weren’t.”