14. Francisca
CHAPTER 14
Francisca
S ince the first night I met Dayton, I’ve felt a connection to him that was deeper than physical attraction. He has this aura around him that puts me at ease and just makes it a little easier to breathe, no matter the situation we are in. But tonight, my awareness of him feels different. It’s hot and tempting, making me feel as if my skin is too tight.
It started when he kissed me, but then it grew into something more when he came to pick Molly and me up from my place. The moment I opened the door to him in a tux, and his gaze tracked down the bodycon dress I decided to wear, a switch was flipped. If Molly hadn’t been right there, I have no doubt that we would have gotten to this party late; that’s how thick the sexual tension was.
And it didn’t get any better through the car ride, which was torturous, and hasn’t lessened since we’ve been here at the event. It doesn’t matter that we are in a room full of people or that we’ve barely had any contact since we arrived. I can feel him every time I move, and I know that if I look, I’ll find his eyes on me.
Rubbing my fingers over my lips that I swear are still tingling from his kiss earlier, I half listen to my mom as she talks to Molly and me. It’s not that I’m not interested in what she’s saying, I just can’t seem to focus with my body so aware of the male temptation across the room who’s currently talking to a group of businessmen.
Feeling a hand touch my lower back, I turn my head and inwardly groan when I come face-to-face with Matthew.
“Hey.” He leans down, touching his lips to my cheek, and I immediately want to wipe at the spot he kissed. “I messaged you earlier.”
“Sorry. Molly came over, and we had to get ready.” I step sideways out of his space, and he frowns slightly before turning to greet my mom.
After kissing Mom’s cheek, he looks at Molly but doesn’t even fake a smile. There was a period of time when the two of them pretended to like each other for my sake, but when I ended things with him, the fake niceties came to a screeching halt, and the animosity between them since then has only grown.
In Matthew’s head, my friends were one of the major reasons our relationship came to an end. And Molly, being one of the people I leaned on, knows everything that happened prior to me even considering divorce.
To him it might have felt like it was a decision I made on a whim; he doesn’t know that I fought with myself every day, tried to convince myself that I could stick it out a little longer. Told myself that things would get better, that we were just in a rough patch. And there were times after I’d tell him what was bothering me, and he’d make promises to change that I really thought everything would be okay. But before long, things would go back to the way they were, and I’d be right back where I was—contemplating my reasons for sticking things out.
It was during the last year of our marriage that I really understood what people mean when they say that a woman leaves a relationship long before they actually leave. By the time I got to the point where I told Mathew I was done, we might as well have already been divorced because there was no going back.
“Oh, Shell’s here,” Mom says, dragging me from my thoughts.
I look to where her eyes are focused and watch Shelly look up at Billy like she loathes him before she places a very pretty, but plastic, smile on her lips and greets a couple who approaches the two of them. Seeing that look on her face, I know without a doubt that she didn’t buy whatever story he made up about him not having an affair.
I wonder if he even realizes that she knows he’s a liar.
Probably not. Men—especially men who think of themselves as important—tend to be oblivious to what is happening in their personal lives unless it is directly affecting them. And I don’t mean affecting them like they are arguing more than normal with their spouse. I mean, affecting them like they might have to pay spousal or child support.
“How is Shelly doing?” I ask my mom quietly, ignoring Matthew, who I can still feel hovering near us.
“Good. She’s starting treatments soon.”
“That’s good.” I don’t bother asking her about the whole news story that came out. My mom learned when my dad got into politics that you can’t trust the media, so she rarely believes anything that comes out unless there is evidence to back it up. And if Shelly hasn’t spoken to her about it—which she probably hasn’t, because good Southern women don’t talk about their marital problems—then Mom won’t bring it up to her.
When Shelly starts heading toward the bar with Billy right behind her, I glance over to where I last saw Dayton and find him heading in our direction, his eyes on Matthew and his jaw clenched.
“Someone isn’t happy,” Molly whispers.
My heart pounds, and a tingle slides down my spine when he steps up next to me and rests his hand on my lower back. The touch might look innocent to everyone else in the room, but I feel the possessiveness in it.
“Mom, you remember Dayton, don’t you?” I prompt, hoping to cut through the tension I can feel building around me when Matthew bristles.
“I do. It’s so nice to see you, Dayton.” Mom gives him her cheek, and he bends down to kiss her there. “How have you been? How’s work?”
“I’ve been good. Work’s busy.”
“I bet.” She laughs, then looks at Matthew, and her brows draw together ever so slightly, like she’s sensing something from him. “You know Matthew, don’t you?” Mom asks, and Dayton doesn’t even bother looking over at my ex-husband when he replies.
“We’ve met.”
“Dayton.”
When he turns at his name being called, I do the same and find Billy coming up behind us. I fight the curl of my lip. Any respect I had for him is long gone—not only because he’s a cheater, which is absolutely disgusting, but because he was willingly going to cause my father harm in order to save his own ass.
“I should have known you’d be with Francisca.” His eyes drop to me, and he smiles while bending to touch his lips to my cheek. “How are you?”
I try not to shudder in revulsion. “Okay, you?”
“Living the dream.”
I’m sure he believes he is. Douche.
He takes his eyes off me and looks to where Matthew is standing on the opposite side of me. “It’s been a while. How are you doing, Matthew? How’s work?” He holds out his hand.
“I just made partner,” Matthew tells him.
“You did?” I blurt, and he looks at me, his face going soft.
“I did. Dad let me know this afternoon.”
“Congratulations!” I can’t help but give him a hug. I know how hard he’s been working toward that goal, how many long nights he had, and how much he sacrificed for that position, which has always been his dream. Maybe I shouldn’t be so excited for him because one of the things he sacrificed was our marriage, but as someone who used to be his friend, I’m genuinely happy that he finally got what he always wanted.
“Thanks.” His hold on me grows uncomfortably long, and I have to wiggle for him to let me go.
“I’m really happy for you.” I step away from him and back into something solid, feeling a hand wrap around my hip.
Dayton.
“That means a lot.” He tips his head toward the bar. “Can I buy you a celebration drink?”
The fingers wrapped around my hip dig in, and I swallow hard.
“Oh, there’s Christen,” Molly says loudly, making me jump. “Come on! Let’s go get a drink and say hi.” She laces her arm through mine as she looks through everyone. “Sorry, I’m going to steal her for a few minutes. We’ll be back.”
“Go mingle,” Mom replies, oblivious to the tension in the air as she waves us off before turning back to talk to Shelly.
Glancing up at Dayton as Molly tugs me away, I catch the look on his face and instantly feel a knot form in the pit of my stomach. If I thought he wasn’t happy before, I was wrong. I want to reassure him—or have him reassure me—that we’re okay, but I don’t even know what we are. This thing between us is strange, because we have no label, yet I feel more connected to him than I ever did my ex, who I was with for years. And it’s not just because our futures are tied together in a way that they will never be untangled, thanks to our baby.
“Girl, I knew I felt the tension between you and Dayton when he came to pick us up, but that whole scene just proved there is something going on with you two,” she whispers, leaning into me as we reach the bar. “What have you not told me?” She smiles at the bartender, who sees us and starts in our direction.
“I don’t know, but I think something is changing between us.”
“That’s kind of inevitable with the amount of time you’ve been spending with him.” She takes her eyes off me to order a drink for us each.
“He told me that he never wanted a relationship.”
“He also didn’t want a kid, yet here you are.” she inserts quietly.
“I know, but the thing is, I don’t want him to want to be with me just because I’m pregnant. You and I both know that is a recipe for disaster,” I whisper, and she frowns at me.
“Fran, you won’t know how this whole thing is going to play out until it plays out. Sure, you two could get together now and realize that it’s just not going to work, or you could get together and realize that maybe… it was meant to be.” She shrugs.
“I guess you’re right.” I pick up the drink the bartender places in front of me and take a sip. I haven’t had the desire to drink alcohol since I found out I was pregnant, but tonight, I really wish I could have something stronger than the sparkling water with lime Molly ordered for me. “He kissed me today.”
“You say it like it’s the first time that’s happened.”
“Because it is. I mean, besides the first night that we met, we haven’t kissed.”
“That’s shocking. There was enough sexual tension flying around in the car on the way over here that I was afraid I might get pregnant,” she says, and I laugh. “You’re telling me that just started today?”
“No. I mean… it’s always kind of been like that, but before, it was always just… an undercurrent of tension.” I chance a glance at where I left him, but he’s no longer standing near my mom nor Billy. Scanning the room, I spot him talking to my dad and a couple of other men, all of them laughing. The relief I feel that he and my dad get along is almost overwhelming. I just hope that doesn’t change after I tell my dad that he’s going to be the grandfather of Dayton’s son or daughter.
Like he can feel me looking at him, Dayton’s gaze finds mine, and he gives me a soft smile that erases all my earlier anxiety.
“I think it’s safe to say that he likes you, Fran.”
“I like him too—a lot, actually, which is scary.”
“So just take it one day at a time.” She nudges her shoulder into mine, then does it again to urge me toward a standing table away from the bar and looks around. “Okay, now we need to find someone who looks like a Christen and pretend like we’re old friends.”
Laughing, I peer around the room along with her and find a woman standing alone in a dark corner. As I start to point her out to Molly, I halt when I realize that I recognize her as the woman who was sitting outside Dayton’s office the day I told him I was pregnant.
His assistant and the woman Billy is—or was—having an affair with.
Also, the person who Dayton is supposed to be fake dating.
Though, if that is still the case, it would be obvious to anyone paying attention that they are not together. Molly and I arrived here with Dayton, not her, and even though he and I have spent most of the evening apart, I haven’t once seen the two of them talking.
As I take a sip of my drink, I study her over the rim of the glass. She’s very pretty. She also looks totally uncomfortable.
Understandable. I would be uncomfortable, too, if I had to be in the same room as the guy I’m sleeping with and his wife. Taking my eyes off her, I scan the room for Shelly, finding her and my mom still together.
I wonder if she knows that Billy’s mistress is here.
And if she doesn’t, I wonder what she would do if she found out.
Most likely nothing. She wouldn’t want to cause a scene. But that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t be embarrassed—and hurt—that she was put in that kind of situation by her husband, who is supposed to look out for her.
“What are you two doing?” A heavy arm is slung over my shoulders and Molly’s as Jacob comes to stand between us.
“Nothing.” I shake him off. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
“Mom said she’d pay my credit card bill if I showed up.” He takes my drink from me and downs a huge mouthful. Swallowing it with a scowl, he shoves the glass back at me. “What the hell is that?” He wipes his mouth with the back of his arm.
“Sparkling water.”
“Why the hell are you drinking that?”
“I’m really starting to think Mom is paying for you to be on the dean’s list,” I mutter, and Molly laughs.
“Ha-ha, very funny.” He looks around. “Where is Mom anyway?”
“She’s with Shelly.” I point across the room, then ask, “Why do you need Mom to pay your credit card bill? I thought you were working.”
“I am working, but I’m not ashamed to take a handout every now and again.”
“Of course, what was I thinking?” I roll my eyes.
“Oh, okay, Miss Goody Two Shoes. Is your baby daddy here tonight?” Thank God he’s always in my corner, so at least he keeps his voice low.
“Jacob,” I warn, even though it’s unnecessary.
“It’s just a question.” He grins.
“Don’t be annoying.”
“I can only ever be myself.” He shrugs, then says, “I’m going to go get a drink. Do you want another one of those?”
“Please.” I pass him my empty glass, and he looks at Molly.
“What about you?”
“Vodka tonic.” She holds up her glass that’s still half full.
“Cool.” He walks away, and I turn to Molly, then frown when I realize she’s checking him out.
“Don’t do that,” I hiss.
“Franny, you know he’s hot, right? And if he weren’t so young, immature, and an obvious idiot, I would totally date him.”
“Don’t make me puke.” My lip curls in disgust, and she laughs.
“Just saying.”
“You’re gross.” I shake my head in hopes of getting the image of one of my best friends with my brother out of my brain. Honestly, I can’t imagine Jacob with anyone—not just because he’s my brother, but because, like Molly said, he’s immature. I’m sure he’ll grow up one day, but that day isn’t going to be anytime soon, especially since our mother still treats him like he’s a kid. “While Jacob is at the bar, I’m going to run to the restroom.”
“I’ll be here waiting… for Jaaacooob ,” she singsongs.
“Can you not be disgusting?”
“I can only ever be myself.” She winks, and I shake my head.
Hurrying out of the ballroom, I smile at a few people I pass in the hall and walk into the bathroom. As the door is closing behind me, I hear the telltale signs of someone puking, and just the sound of someone else getting sick makes my stomach churn.
Going into the only other stall, I quickly use the restroom, then step out to wash my hands. As I’m lathering up with soap, the stall behind me opens, and Billy’s mistress steps out and meets my gaze in the mirror.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, and her face crumples like I just told her that her dog got hit by a car. So caught off guard by the outburst of emotions, I stare at her for a long moment before I grab a few of the paper towels on the counter and take them over to her. “Hey, it’s all right.”
“It’s not.” She shakes her head. “ Nothing is okay.” She sobs, taking the paper towels and covering her face with them.
“Come on.” Leading her over to the small couch that is at the entrance of the restroom, I help her sit and then rub her back as she cries. I don’t know her, but I do know her situation, so I feel strange trying to comfort her, even if it’s obvious that she needs to be comforted. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay. That’s all right.” I continue to rub her back and listen to her cry. When the door opens, my head snaps to it, and my shoulders slump when I see Molly step inside. Her eyes ping between me and the woman I’m sitting with.
“Dayton sent me to check on you. Is everything okay?”
God, I swear I could fall in love with him so easily.
“Everything’s fine,” I assure her. “I’ll be out there in just a couple of minutes.”
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I promise, and with a nod, she backs out of the doorway, and it closes behind her.
“I know who you are, and I know you know me.” The whispered statement causes me to bite my lip. “Why are you being nice?”
“Because no one should have to cry alone in a bathroom,” I tell her, and she turns to look at me. She’s so pretty—way too pretty to be with a guy like Billy.
“I can see why he likes you,” she says, her smile sad. “Do you know that he framed the sonogram picture of your baby and has it on his desk?”
My lips part. “He did?”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “He’s a good guy.”
“He is,” I agree on a whisper, and she shakes her head while tugging her gaze off mine.
“I should go.”
“Are you okay?” I ask as she gets to her feet and dashes away the tears from her cheeks.
“No.” Her smile is still sad but a little braver as she smooths her hands down the front of her lovely dress. “But that’s nothing new.”
“You can do better than him,” I blurt without thinking as she turns her back to me and she looks at me over her shoulder. “I know that sometimes we think we have to settle for whatever scraps are tossed our way and that we should just accept what is given to us, but I’m telling you now that you can do better than him. You deserve better than him.”
“Happily ever afters are for storybooks, not for girls like me.” She pulls the door open and walks out, leaving me sitting there with a million emotions coursing through my system.
When there is a knock on the door, I start to get up off the couch, but before I’m able to stand, Dayton pokes his head inside the restroom.
“I just saw Jamie leave.” His gaze scans over me like he’s checking for injuries as he steps toward me. “What happened?”
“I think she’s dealing with some stuff.” I get off the couch and walk over to him.
“Are you okay?” He asks quietly as I fall into him and wrap my arms around his waist.
“Definitely.” Because he might be the sweetest man I have ever met in my life. I knew that from the way he has treated me with such care since the moment we met but hearing that he has our sonogram photo framed on his desk tells me everything I need to know about him. And any lingering doubt I may have had about him wanting to be involved is long gone, because that tiny tidbit of information shows me how invested he is in our child and what kind of dad he’s going to be.
“What happened?” he asks, sliding one hand down my back while the other cups the back of my head as he holds me against his chest.
“Nothing, big guy. I’m fine.”
“Franny.”
“She just needed someone to sit with her for a minute.” I tip my head back to look up at him and meet his gaze. “Billy’s a dick, which we both already knew.”
“She told you something?”
“No, but she didn’t need to in order for me to figure that out.”
“You’re right about that.” He sighs, and then he touches his lips to my forehead.
“I think I’m going to tell my dad about the baby tomorrow,” I whisper, and his face gentles.
“Are you ready to do that?”
“Yeah, as long as you’re okay with it.”
“Do you want me there?” he asks instead of answering, and I nod… but then promptly shake my head no.
“I don’t know. If he gets upset, I don’t want him to take it out on you.”
“If there’s a chance he’s gonna be upset, I’d like to be there.” His hold on me tightens, and my throat starts to burn from his undeniable protectiveness over me.
“He’d never hurt me.”
“I know that, but I’d still like to be there.”
“All right, I’ll talk to him and Mom about having brunch tomorrow, if that works for you.”
“Yeah, that works for me.” He slides his hand up to my jaw and presses his lips to mine.
When he pulls back, all I can think is that might’ve been the sweetest kiss I’ve ever gotten.