by Terra Wolf
17
Dillon
I sprinkled the roses around the bedroom as quietly as I could so I wouldn’t wake her up. I checked the ring in my pocket for the hundredth time. It sparkled in the pre-dawn light. She would love it. I had the whole thing planned out. I would go down on one knee and propose the way I should have done in the first place.
I had to beg her on my knees to honor me with her hand in holy matrimony. Nothing else made sense now. I only regretted I didn’t do it this way in the first place, but that couldn’t be helped now. I could only make it up to her.
I would finally tell her the truth. The whole truth, about who my family I really were.
It was time to unleash the beast. Or at least tell her about him.
We were having a cub, and I loved her more than life. What could be more perfect than marrying the woman of my dreams and making this official? I would take her on a whirlwind honeymoon before the baby came. We would set the world on fire in one last hurrah before we settled down to becoming Mr. and Mrs. Joe Average.
Those words sounded so nice to me now. I wanted to curl up on the couch with her and the kid at the end of the day. I wanted to take walks in the park and have arguments about who was supposed to put the stroller in the back seat of the minivan.
I snuck out of the bedroom so I could pace around the living room and wait. I kept taking the ring out of my pocket and looking at it. Was it big enough? Was the setting nice enough for her? I snapped the box shut and shoved it into my pocket again. I wrung my hands as my bear paced in anticipation.
When would she wake up? The tension killed me. I never experienced this kind of anxiety in the riskiest business ventures. They always excited me. This made me want to fall apart.
I almost lost it when my phone buzzed. Before I got it out of my pocket, it buzzed again...and again. It kept buzzing until I answered it. I didn’t have a chance to say hello before William screeched in my ear. “What did you do? You’ve ruined everything. It’s all over.”
I scooted across the room to my office and took refuge behind the door. I couldn’t let Bianca hear this. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It’s all over the freakin’ tabloids, man!” William roared. “You boned that girl in the coat check closet at the gala last night.”
I froze. “What did you just say?”
“Some pimple-faced photographer got a picture of you. He followed you when you left the party with her, and when he heard you getting it on, he snapped a candid camera of you two leaving the closet. Don’t tell me you didn’t do it with her, ‘cuz no one in their right mind could mistake that picture. You blew it, man. You blew the whole thing out of the water. Four whole months of work and God knows how many dollars—all gone down the crapper. I hope you’re happy.”
“Listen, William,” I began.
“Don’t ‘listen, William’ me, Mister,” he shot back. “It’s over. Do you hear me? It’s all over. Even though you guys are married, the press will somehow spin this back to your bad boy days and how you are corrupting her. Your family knows, and they’re pissed.”
I brought his fist down on the desk. “But she is my fucking wife!”
“Not anymore,” William returned. “This nullifies the contract. You broke her clean image. The tabloids are already starting to call out if she was as clean and good as they thought she was. We’ve got to do some damage control. We’ve got to get you as far away from her as we can, and maybe we can come up with Plan B.”
“I’m not breaking up with her, and that’s final. I don’t care what you say.”
“Are you trying to ruin your career and your family’s company?” William spat. “When the public sees this, they’ll spit roast you. Got it? You’re history. You might as well get yourself a house in the suburbs. You’re finished in this town if you don’t do exactly what I say. You know they’re already onto your shifter stuff, we have to keep this secret safe.”
I stiffened. “I would rather live in a house in the suburbs than go through with this. I’m not splitting up with her. And my secret IS safe.”
“You can’t honestly want to keep doing this,” William countered. “Where are your balls, man? I thought you’d be chomping at the bit to get rid of her.”
“Well, things changed.”
“I don’t care what changed,” William snapped. “Dump her. You have to distance yourself from her so we can rework this story in your favor. Don’t speak to her unless we approve it, and remind her that she signed a confidentiality agreement.”
“Forget it!” I shouted. “I’m not doing it, and you can’t make me.”
William started to say something about Julie, but I cut him off. “Shut up! I don’t take orders from you. I’ve had enough of this shit, and I’m not doing it anymore.”
“You’re not doing it anymore is right, buddy,” William fired back. “Take it from me. The whole contract depended on the press thinking she was a good girl. They had to believe you were good enough to get yourself a good girl. Now that’s all toast. They will paint her in a bad light and start to tear down her good girl image. She’s poison for you.”
“I’ve done everything you said. I’ve bowed and scraped. You’ve made me a laughing stock in front of the whole world. Well, this is my goddamn life! Do you hear me? Forget it.”
“Do you want me to come over there and do it?” William asked.
I brought my fist down on the desk again. “No! Are you listening to a word I said? Yes, I heard you, and now you’re gonna listen to me. I won’t do it. I won’t go through with this, so just forget it. You can’t make me. Do you know what you’re asking? You want to ruin my life even more than it’s already been ruined. I never should have listened to you. I never should have gone through with this in the first place. I would have been a lot better off.”
“You’re damn right about that,” William replied. “We should have gotten you a nice homely spinster instead of a hottie. We all knew this was a bad idea, but you had to have her. If you don’t have her gone within the hour, I’m coming over, and I’m bringing Julie with me. Understand?”
“Don’t you dare,” I snarled. “I’ll be the one to handle this situation.”
“How are you gonna handle it, if you don’t throw her out?” William asked. “You could wind up making it even worse.”
“I said I’ll handle it, and I will,” I told him.
I threw the phone across the room with all my might, and my bear roared and clawed to break free. Those idiots! They got me into this situation. Now, when I finally developed real feelings for Bianca and wanted to take her for my very own, they wanted me to end it.
Well, I wouldn’t do that. So, the tabloids thought she was a bad girl. They thought we screwed around in the coat closet. Why shouldn’t we? We were married, weren’t we? We could do it wherever we wanted, and no one had anything to say about it.
Damn them all. My bear couldn’t be contained any longer.
He ripped through my clothes and let out a loud growl. My bones cracked with the Change but it felt good. Really good. It had been too long since I had let him be free. I found myself running across my office and through the hidden entrance to my indoor garden.
Whatever I did, I would not dump her. I would not throw her out on the street. I would not take her ring back or anything else I gave her.
My paws hit the ground repeatedly as I paced back and forth, roaring at the top of my lungs.
If the public needed to think Bianca was a good girl, what better way than to make her my wife—my real wife?
Everybody thought she was pregnant. I would make it right. I would show the world how much I really loved her. I would let them know how happy I was we were having a cub.
She was my mate. I was sure of it. And now I would tell her all of it.
The truth about me.
And the truth about us.
I ran through the foliage until I calmed down enough to Shift again and return to my office.
. I put on a new set of clothes I kept in my office desk and retrieved my phone, putting the pieces together. I didn’t care. I could get a new phone any day of the week. A broken phone only meant I wouldn’t have to field any more calls—at least not until I got this mess worked out.
I snapped open the box one more time to take a look at the ring. It really was stunning, far nicer than the one I gave her at the wedding. I sat down in my office chair. I couldn’t face her angry about this. I had to make this the happiest day of her life. I couldn’t let her know I ever even thought about breaking up with her.
I calmed myself down the rest of the way by imagining the look on her face when she saw me on my knee at her feet. She would try to smile, she was so happy, but her mouth would twist up with pent-up sobs, sobs of joy. She would put her arms around me, and I would sweep her off her feet.
18
Bianca
I listened at Dillon’s office door. I listened right up until I heard him say, “I’ll be the one to handle this situation.”
I didn’t need to hear any more. So, he wanted to handle this situation. I was the situation, and he would handle it. If anybody was going to kick me to the curb, it better be him. Better yet, I wouldn’t stick around to give him a chance.
I staggered across the living room to the bedroom. I couldn’t look at those roses now. I couldn’t look at anything without a pang of regret stabbing my heart. I had to get out of here. He would end the contract. No matter what he said about caring for me, his bottom line came first. I always understood that.
He must have told his team I got pregnant. What an idiot I was for not using some kind of birth control. How could I have been so stupid? I only cared about hopping in the sack with a hot guy. I never gave a thought to the consequences.
Everything in that room made me want to cry, but the roses made me mad. He shouldn’t have done that. That was a low blow. He shouldn’t have filled my head with a bunch of nonsense about caring about me, either. That and the roses and the jewelry and everything else were just his ways of flattering the pants of a girl. He’d done it a million times before. He figured out what I most wanted to hear and see and feel, and he gave them to me. In exchange, I gave him my body, and I got exactly what I deserved.
I didn’t want anything in that room. I sloughed off the bathrobe and pulled on the same suit I wore for my first job interview. I showed up here with nothing, and I would walk out with nothing. I refused to take anything Dillon or his team gave me.
They wanted to get rid of me? I was happy to go. I didn’t need this. I would make a life for myself somewhere else. I could get a job as an accountant just about anywhere but here. I would go somewhere no one ever heard of F.P. Ferguson. Someplace like that must exist on this planet.
I kicked my Manolos into the closet and brought out my own scuffed old pumps. I didn’t put them on, though. They would make too much noise on the tile floor. I would sneak out, so Dillon didn’t hear me. If he heard me leaving, he would want to talk about it. The last thing I needed was a big, ugly scene.
Why talk about it? It was over. He wanted me gone, and I wanted to be gone. I would make it simple for everybody. They could find some other stupid girl to be Dillon Johnson’s bride.
In the last moments of my desperation, I tugged the diamond rings off my fingers and laid them on the bedside table. I choked down the lump in my throat, but I forced myself to turn my back on them. I didn’t want them if they didn’t mean anything. If he didn’t really want me, I didn’t want him, either.
I dangled my shoes in two fingers and tiptoed to the foyer. Even now, the place seemed too huge and empty. How did I ever spend four months of my life in this place? It echoed like a mausoleum now. It listened to every footstep on the stairs and never left me in peace.
In the midst of the eerie silence of the penthouse, I heard a foreign sound come from Dillon’s office. Almost like a growl. What was going on in there? It honestly didn’t matter. The rose petals, the jewelry, the special treatment. None of it mattered anymore. I had to get out of here before he came out. He would find the rings, and he would understand I left by myself. I would spare him the ordeal of breaking up with me, and I would never see him again.
I would get as far away from him and Charleston and this whole sordid affair as possible. I would file for divorce in another town in the middle of nowhere.
I cringed when the elevator dinged. I ducked inside and pushed the button to the ground floor. The car dropped underneath me, and my heart pounded in my chest.
I put on my shoes at the front door, strode outside, and hailed a cab. I gave the driver the address and sailed away to the rest of my life.
Once outside, the fresh air brought me back to my senses. What rock had I been living under all these months? I didn’t recognize myself. Lakyn was right. I had changed, and not necessarily for the better. I forgot my roots. I forgot my real self. I wasn’t supposed to be some glitzy celebrity with diamonds dripping off every finger. I wasn’t supposed to be fodder for the tabloids. I was just an average girl. That’s all I ever really wanted to be.
Lakyn. She would help me. She would take me in. At least I could crash on her couch until I decided what to do with myself. I didn’t want to show up barefoot and pregnant on my parents’ doorstep. They would encourage me to patch it up with my husband.
I did too good a job convincing them Dillon was the real thing. They wouldn’t understand the whole business arrangement thing. They cared about the sanctity of marriage. They thought he was the man I fell deeply in love with. Isn’t that what I thought, too, when I took him home to meet them?
The cab parked in front of my old apartment building, and I dashed up the steps. I pounded on the door. “Lakyn! Lakyn! Let me in!”
It took a lot longer than I expected for her to answer. Then I remembered. It was early Saturday morning. She would be sound asleep, just like the rest of the world. What in God’s name was I thinking? I should have planned this better.
When she did come, she shuffled over the carpet in her shaggy bunny slippers. Her hair stuck out at odd angles from her head, and she squinted into the morning sunshine. She crossed her arms over the stomach of her tattered old lavender bathrobe. “Bianca is everything ok?”
“I left Dillon,” I blurted out. “I had to, Lakyn. I’m pregnant, and I….”
She didn’t budge. She didn’t pry her scrunched-up eyelids apart. She went very still and quiet. “You what?”
I took a deep breath. Better make a clean breast of it. “I’m pregnant, Lakyn. I didn’t realize until you showed me that magazine. I took a pregnancy test, and it’s positive. I told Dillon last night and I...”
“Don’t tell me,” she interrupted as she pulled me inside. “He got pissed and broke it off. I always knew he would let you down in the long run.”
“He didn’t get pissed, and he didn’t break it off. He was actually really happy.”
“So, what’s the problem? What are you doing here?”
I hung my head. How could I ever tell her? “It’s his PR team. They said I would be out on my ass if I did anything to paint him in a bad light.”
“So…. you’re pregnant. You’re married. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you get married?”
I wrung my hands in anguish. None of this made sense. “Please, Lakyn. I have nowhere else to go. I need your help.”
She let out a heavy sigh and dropped her arms to her sides. “Come on then, but I want a full explanation when I’m actually awake.”
She shuffled over to the couch and plopped down. I turned around and locked her door and then walked over to the couch.
Lakyn was already back to sleep. That was my cue to make the coffee, even though I gave up drinking it since I found out I was really pregnant. I went to the kitchen and found everything in the same places. I might as well have never left—except for one small thing hidden inside me.
I was just as hopeless and planless as when I left, but now I had a mis
sion. I also had an iron-clad reason to leave Charleston. My family wouldn’t understand, but I did. That was the important thing.
The smell of coffee brewing got Lakyn to open one eye. “You haven’t lost your touch. Okay, you can stay.”
I carried the cup to the couch and sat down next to her. “I won’t stay long. I promise you that.”
19
Dillon
I guess I must have sat in that office longer than I realized. Without my phone telling me the time, I let the minutes tick away. The longer I stayed, the more collected I got, the better I could present when I finally popped the question.
I got out of my chair and stuck my hand in my pocket. I could concentrate on the outcome if I kept that ring in front of my mind at all times. None of this other crap mattered. Only she mattered. Once I got her on board, we could face the world together. My bear paced in excitement. No more doubts. No more questions. Just her and me, the way it always should have been.
I got out of the office, but I hesitated at the bedroom door. No sound came from inside. She must be still asleep. How should I do it? Should I slip into bed next to her and wake her up? Or should I wait until she woke up so I could propose on bended knee in front of her by the bed?
How does a guy decide how to propose to the woman of his dreams? Well, I couldn’t hang around out here all day. I pushed the door open….and stopped. The comforter lay tossed aside and that big beautiful bed, the bed where I spent the happiest months of my life—empty.
The minute I saw it, I knew something was wrong. No sound of trickling water from the shower in the bathroom. No one wandering around in the walk-in closet. At that moment, the sun peeked over the horizon. Shafts of golden rays streamed through the windows and glistened on something on the bedside table.
I rushed across the room, but my instincts told me what it was even before I got there. Her rings. The giant solitaire I got her for the engagement. The diamond-studded wedding band—even the pendant I got her for our three-month anniversary.
