“You know it cousin.”
She chuckled. “Okay. Enough about that. If you really are on board, I will have my team start working on an image strategy for you. As soon as the Kings call you, I need to be your very next call, okay?”
“You’ve got it, boss.”
She rolled her eyes as we stood. “You know, you’re lucky WAWG doesn’t need any negative press right now. The abrupt cancellation of your show doesn’t look good, and it already has a lot of ugly speculation around it. If they could, they would be dragging you and Wil through the mud.”
“There’s not anything to say,” I laughed. “Neither of us did anything that went against our contracts, and that’s verifiable. If they wanted that fight, I’d give it to them. And still will if any drama pops off.”
Chloe smirked. “Especially with me on your side now. I trust you’ve already spoken with an agent… are you going back to your old one?”
“Hell no. Found somebody new.”
“Good.” She pulled her bag up on her shoulder, then gave me this long look that made me hold up my hands.
“Don’t do it, Chloe, come on,” I said, and she laughed.
“Okay, fine. I won’t tell you about how Aunt Debbie, God rest her soul, was so proud of the man you’ve become, and how glad I am that you’re honoring what she asked of you, and continuing your legacy.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugged. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
“Of course not,” I chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to walk her to her car. After we said our goodbyes, I finally checked my phone, and wasn’t surprised at all to find a text from Wil.
“If you aren’t busy tomorrow, think you could do me a favor? I have some apartments to look at, and I’d like to have some company. – The Champ”
“I’m a slacker now, remember? Yeah, I can go with you. What time?”
“First one is at 9:15, but they’re all in Stamford. Is that okay? – The Champ”
I raised an eyebrow. “Gave up on New York?”
“Yep. I’ll tell you why in person, tomorrow. – The Champ.”
“Aiight. See you then.”
“This place is just… beyond perfect. I can barely even stand it.”
“You said that about the last four places too.”
I bit back a smile as Wil shot a glare in my direction, then immediately went back to fawning over the townhouse apartment. “Hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, big windows, granite counters, and half the price of living in New York,” she mused, in a dreamy sort of voice as she ran her fingers along one of the custom cabinets in the large kitchen. “And space. Glorious, wonderful, space. I think I’m in love.”
I laughed at her enthusiasm, but it really was a nice spot. She was so happy, so instantly comfortable, that as I watched her move around in it, it already felt like hers.
“What do you think?” she asked, bouncing up to me with this huge smile on her face, eagerly waiting for an answer.
“I think it makes you happy, and I think you deserve that, so… I think you should get it.”
“Good. Cause I already texted the realtor to get started on the paperwork.”
“Then what did you ask me for?”
“Because I care about your opinion! Come look at the bathroom,” she said, then grabbed my hand, tugging me in that direction. I followed, even though she’d already shown me the master bathroom twice, and I knew she was heading right for that big, freestanding garden-style tub.
Sure enough, as soon as we were in there, she climbed in, draping her arms along the side and closing her eyes.
“This is gonna be so gooood,” she moaned, in a sultry voice that sent blood rushing straight to my dick, so fast that I had to turn away from her.
“Damn,” I said from across the room, getting really, really interested in the shower. “They did a really good job on this tile work.”
“Didn’t they?!” she gushed. “It’s so good. Hey – I think the unit next door is available too. You should totally move in, since you’ll have to be in Connecticut anyway.”
“Maybe,” I corrected. “Maybe I’ll be in Connecticut anyway. And hell no to moving into a spot like this. It’s perfect for you, yes, but not so much for me.”
I turned just in time to see her roll her eyes. “Let me guess – you need something more “manly” right?”
“Your words, not mine.”
“Whatever. Can you believe we’ll be working with the same team? I’ll probably have to interview you. Oooh, and I know all the right shit to ask too. All the tough questions.”
I laughed. “Damn, you’re pre-planning to drag my ass, huh?”
“Make you answer for every mistake on the field since 2009, baby,” she teased. Well, kind of. I knew Wil well enough to understand that if I ever did sit down on the other side of an interview with her, our friendship did not mean she would take it easy.
As she shouldn’t.
My level of confidence in Wil’s ability to kill her new job role was high. She’d made me wait in suspense to tell me about her conversation with Cole, and how she’d been up all night running numbers and scenarios in her head. I was surprised she was so perky today – she’d already contacted Cole to accept the Kings’ sponsorship of her new, not yet named web show, by the time I met her to look at the first apartment this morning. There was no way she’d had much sleep.
“So when is your first show?” I asked, crouching down beside the tub, almost falling backward when her silly ass pretended to scoop nonexistent bubbles from the tub and put them on my nose.
“As soon as I get my shit together,” she told me, still giggling about it. “I have so much to do. I have a rough idea of what I want the format to be, and I’ve already got my lawyer making sure everything is copasetic with WAWG before I start any marketing.”
I frowned. “How are you gonna market when you don’t have a name for it yet?”
“Ah,” she held up a finger. “I do have a name, as of like, two seconds ago. “Wil in the Field.” You get it? Like… real in the field? Get it?”
“Yes, I get it,” I said, standing up straight so I could laugh.
“Why are you laughing so hard?!” she shrieked, standing up and stepping toward me. She must have forgotten she was in the tub though, because she tripped, and would have gone crashing to the floor if I hadn’t caught her. Instead of being flustered about the fall, she looked up from her position in my arms to ask, “That’s not too corny, is it?”
I shook my head. “Nah, Champ. It’s perfect for you.”
“Perfect… for me?” she asked as she straightened up.
“Don’t say it like that.” I didn’t like the inflection she was putting on it. “It’s not a bad thing, I’m saying it fits you. It’s cute, and fun.”
A little smile crept onto her face. “You… think I’m cute and fun?”
“Is that news to you?”
For some reason that made her blush. She tugged her top lip between her teeth and looked away, as suddenly interested in the fixture on the sink as I’d been on the shower tile a few moments ago.
I walked up to her from behind, keeping just enough distance not to touch her.
“Hey,” I said, and she looked up, meeting my eyes in the mirror over the sink. “We should go to dinner. Not like our usual… hit up the sushi spot or whatever, but like… a real dinner. Me in a tie, you in heels.”
Her eyes went a little wider, like she was surprised, but she nodded. “Okay. When?”
“After you finish filming with the rookies. Whatever day that is, we should celebrate it right. Nice dinner, champagne. How does that sound to you?”
She smiled.
“It sounds like a date.”
Seven
It’s just a house.
As ridiculous as those words sounded in my head, I repeated them several times before I unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed out of my car. My steps were hesitant as I headed up the front walk of
the house that, until very recently, I’d considered a home, full of love. The place I would come back to after an amazing honeymoon, would bring babies – maybe even grandbabies, someday – home to.
Now…
It’s just a house.
Nothing to get all upset about.
My key worked in the front door, which surprised me for some reason. It wasn’t like I’d expected Darius to have changed the locks or anything, but it just felt… strange. When I walked into the foyer, I wasn’t flooded with the sadness I’d dreaded.
There was a disconnect. It didn’t feel like home anymore anyway.
The flowers I’d destroyed and left in a mess on the floor were gone now, and that wasn’t the only change. Our furniture was gone – I’d signed off on the donation to a local home for displaced minors – and the paint colors were different. I’d agreed to everything the realtor suggested, actually, including the staging of the house with the boring, neutral furniture that filled it now. Anything to make it marketable, and sell as quickly as possible.
I wanted to move on from this chapter of my life.
Our bedroom was the one room I skipped. Just the thought of stepping into it made my stomach twist into knots. Everywhere else, I took one last look – I had no intention of ever coming back again. The only reason I was here now was because the realtor had insisted on me seeing it in person before I gave my final approval. When I heard footsteps approaching in the otherwise empty house, I assumed it was her.
I assumed wrong.
The sight of him snatched my breath away. I’d purposely avoided his face, afraid of what it would bring to the surface. I was doing so well – still hurting, still angry, but I hadn’t cried in weeks. I was working on “being okay”. I thought I was moving forward.
“Wil… hi.”
Don’t you dare break down.
“Hello Darius,” was my curt response, before I turned away to look out at the pool in the backyard, the borrowed patio furniture, anything to keep “What the hell are you doing here?!” from flying off of my tongue. I’d been clear in my request that our walkthroughs be scheduled away from each other, so we wouldn’t be here at the same time. I was here thirty minutes early specifically so that I could have the quiet moment I needed, alone, for closure. So of course he was ruining that.
“I didn’t know you’d be here. My bad,” he said, from closer to me than he should have felt comfortable being. “My appointment isn’t until this afternoon, but I wanted to grab a couple of minutes by myself since I can’t later. I planned to be in and out.”
“Whatever.”
I walked out of the kitchen and moved to the front room, thinking he would take the hint and not follow me. I had no such luck.
“Wil, can I have a few minutes of your time? Please?”
I turned to face him, crossing my arms. I couldn’t keep the contempt from forming on my face, which… hurt. We’d had our issues, sure, but barely two months ago, I’d looked at this man with nothing but love in my heart.
Now?
“How could you be so stupid?” Kept echoing in my head. Men this gorgeous were often not worth a damn. Men this gorgeous, with money, were even worse. Expecting faithfulness from a man this gorgeous, with money, and celebrity status?
Hmph.
What in the world had I thought my pussy was made of?
“We don’t have anything to discuss, Darius,” I said, ignoring the guilt that pricked me about the sweeping internal generalization I’d just made. I knew better than to throw people into boxes like that, but hell… maybe if I’d done that before I invested eight years of my life into this man, I wouldn’t be in the situation I was in.
“I disagree,” he said, and I let out a dry laugh.
“I am baffled as to why you think I care.”
For a few seconds, he said nothing. I hated to admit it, but the remorse in his eyes actually seemed sincere.
“I wasn’t still sleeping with her.” Those words came after his silence, and raised enough interest that I didn’t interrupt. “The videos, the texts, all of it – it was all from years ago, babe. I have not touched her in probably a year, I swear to you. She came to me, wanting to start up again, and I refused. Because I love you. She was just trying to hurt us because I wouldn’t do what she wanted. Released all of that to the media because I wouldn’t betray you.”
“But you did betray me,” I spat, jabbing a finger in his direction. “It doesn’t matter how long ago it was – you did it. You don’t get points for abstaining from fucking another woman for “probably a year”, whatever the hell that means. Our relationship isn’t a goddamn AA meeting, Darius. I’m not going to give you points for doing what the hell you were supposed to be doing in the first place!”
He raised his hands. “That’s not what I’m saying! I promise, that’s not what I’m saying to you. I’m just…” he pushed out a sigh, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m saying that… I know I fucked up. I’m not making an excuse, not blaming you – this shit was me. I fucked up. But I realized it, and I stopped, and I was trying my best to do right by you.”
“Doing right by me would have been keeping your dick to yourself!” I screamed. “I saw the videos – saw the difference in your haircuts, your tats. You were screwing her for years while I sat back and believed your lies, being oblivious and stupid. Are you going to deny that? Huh?”
“No,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to insult you by denying it when you’ve already seen the proof.”
I laughed. “Finally a sign that you have a shred of respect for me. Do you think you can string together enough of those to tell me why?”
“Wil…” he shook his head. “I … I don’t have an answer for that.”
“Sure you do. You started screwing her how long ago? When did it start?”
“You don’t want to—”
“Don’t fucking tell me what I want,” I said, raising my voice. “Tell me when it started.”
He tucked his hands behind his head. “Five years ago.”
“Fine. Now tell me what the hell was happening between us, what the hell went so wrong five years ago that you had to go work out your feelings in another woman instead of talking to me.”
He didn’t answer.
He just stared at me, with this expectant look on his face, like he was waiting for me to catch up to something obvious.
It only took me a moment to realize what I was missing.
Too fast to try to stop them, tears pricked my eyes, and I reflexively took a step back. “You…” I whispered, then tried my best to choke back the sob that sprang up from deep in my chest. He moved toward me with his hands out, like he was about to attempt some sort of comfort, but I quickly held up a hand. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” I growled. “Don’t you… don’t you dare.”
“Wil, please.”
“Please, what?” I bellowed, so loudly that it echoed through the house. “I cannot… I can’t believe you. Did you at least wait until I was out of the hospital?”
“I was with you every day,” he shot back, with the nerve to raise his voice. “Anything you needed, I was on top of it, but you still shut down, and shut me out. When it happened again, I tried to be there – you shut me out. When you hurt your ankle, you shut me out. When the network screwed you over on your show, you shut me out. Every single time.”
“Wow!” I threaded my fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my face. “Did you seriously just run down a timeline of the worst moments of my life and make them about you? These are mileposts, huh? Is that what you’re saying? You were just going along, being the perfect boyfriend, trying so hard to keep it in your pants. But there I was, with the audacity to be having a tough time, and I just pushed you inside of her myself, huh? It was my fault?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m not blaming you. I’m telling you where my weakness, where my failing was. I’m trying to be open, and communicate with you, putting it
all on the line, hoping that maybe… maybe we can work through this.” It took him another step to be right in front of me, and he grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Wil… I’m not asking you to overlook, or accept what I did. I am asking… can we use this as a starting point? I promise you, I can be a better man than I’ve been. Can we try?”
“You know… I maybe would’ve given you the chance you’re asking for if you’d told me this yourself,” I said, pulling my hand away from his. “If you were so interested in “doing right by me” and “being a better man”, you never would have let me be blindsided and embarrassed on national TV like you did. And… since we’re being honest? The fact that it’s a white girl doesn’t help your case. And besides all that… you’re a liar. As sincere as you seem, I can’t even wrap my head around the possibility that you love and care about me like you claim.”
“But I do!”
“How?” I exclaimed. “How can you possibly say that?! We were trying to have a baby, Darius! After the two miscarriages, I was done. The only reason I held it together was because those pregnancies were accidents in the first place. I was done,” I repeated, trying to hold back a fresh flood of tears. “But no… you wanted to try again. We weren’t even engaged, but you wanted to try. You wanted a baby. And my stupid ass loved you, you trifling motherfucker, so for the last three years, I’ve been trying. Do you know how I’ve felt? To be told nothing is wrong, that it’ll happen when it happens? Wondering if every period is actually just an earlier miscarriage than the ones before? Hating my body for not being what you needed, all while keeping up a smile, because Wil is always fucking smiling. Wil is always sunny!” I let out a laugh that must have sounded as crazy as it felt, from the way Darius flinched. “Is that what you were thinking? Wil looks happy, she has that big ring on her finger, this big house. She must be totally fine, so it’s perfectly okay for me to screw this other woman while I lie to her face about it.”
He shook his head. “Wil… no, it wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking—”
Determining Possession (Connecticut Kings Book 3) Page 14
