Cheater

43. Chloe

He’s been gone for a few hours when there’s a knock on the door.

I rise from the bed and peer out the peephole. Room service. And Ken, the guy who held us at gunpoint. Should have known I’d have a babysitter.

I open it and wave the room service guy in.

Ken gives me a nod. I don’t return it. I’m not trying to be a bitch about him doing his job. Though really, what decent person takes on a job where they have to do the things Derek pays him to do?

My thoughts stray to Craig again, who is a solid guy, a good person, a friend of mine who has now been thrust into a world he’s been trying to dismantle. All for trying to help me.

Maybe I can make Derek understand how fundamentally wrong that is. If I pleaded with him, would he give Craig a break and let him live his life without becoming the thing he hates? Derek wants me, clearly, could I somehow wield that into getting him to leave Craig alone?

I fetch my wallet to tip the guy who delivers the cart loaded with dome-covered plates and a bucket containing my favorite wine, which I’m sure this hotel probably brought in for me because it’s not something you’d generally find at a swanky place like this.

I shut the door and sit.

My phone chimes, so I lift it seeing a text from Alannah.

I don’t know how this happened but brace before you click.

There’s a link. I’m feeling queasy as I click it and see a gif on a loop of Derek and I leaving the courthouse today, me in all my designer bridal gown glory, him looking like a thirst trap about to go viral.

Fuck.

Fuck!

I scan the headline.

Derek Steele Marries. But There’s Dirty Laundry Here.

This JUST in. Derek Steele, son of local infamous shipping magnate and real estate developer Michael Steele, just married Chloe Turner of Dayton, OH. While they were both decked out in wedding garb befitting a lavish wedding with five hundred guests, they tied the knot at the Franklin County Courthouse in a simple ceremony today.

Steele, never married, owns The Fifth, The Strip, and the Downtown nightclubs here in Columbus as well as several other establishments elsewhere in the state. Turner was engaged to be married until very recently to local award-winning journalist and accessibility activist Adam Hallman, who recently suffered a spinal cord injury after a horrific car accident.

While Adam Hallman is confined to his wheelchair, it seems Chloe Turner sure landed on her feet.

Filthy Laundry Online has it on good authority that the children of Michael Steele never requires spouses to sign a pre-nuptial agreement.

This is a blog with no other entries. It was just created for this purpose.

Vertigo briefly attacks my senses as I calculate the ramifications here. I’ll have to explain this to my parents. My friends. This means things are going to be even messier than I expected they’d be.

Derek wanted Adam to take the blame, but when people find out, they’re going to be looking at me like I’m a gold-digging cheater. A monster who got a better offer than what I was looking at with my paraplegic fiancé.

Adam’s probably at the hospital with his family, saying goodbye to their gran while they deal with the emotional whirlwind of their uncle’s death.

As I sit on the bed, my phone chimes again.

Someone tagged me several times on Instagram.

The same gossip blog’s Instagram. And it’s a carbon copy of the other article, only this one has me tagged and there are a lot of comments.

“Chloe Turner is a disgusting human being. She’s dumped her fiancé a respected journalist who lost use of his legs in an accident for Derek Steele. Gold digger or what?” - Anonymous

Underneath it, a commenter says, “Who wouldn’t? Look at that hottie. And he’s rich?”

Nested under that is a comment that says, “Yeah, but everyone knows the Steeles are practically mafioso.”

I exit the app and write back to Alannah.

FML. Check Instagram. It’s worse.

She sends me a broken heart emoji and then messages again.

I’m here if you need me. Love you.

The door clicks and opens. Derek is back. He doesn’t look smug. He doesn’t look happy.

“You’d better get a load of this,” I tell him and open up the link Alannah sent and hand him my phone.

He takes it, looks at the screen, and massages his forehead with his fingers.

His eyes close for a second and when they open, he says, “Might as well pack up.”

I frown.

“You don’t want to go on a trip with me, do you?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Then let’s go. We’ll swing by your parents’ place and then we’ll go home.”

“My parents?”

“They need to meet me. You need to tell them. This could go viral. Someone went to the trouble to put it up, they’ll undoubtedly want to spread it far and wide. Let’s go.” He waves toward the door.

I stare at the dining cart full of food and wine. At the flower petals all over the rug.

“Carson?” Derek says into his phone, “I need PR to take control of the gossip that’s come from my and Chloe’s wedding today. Yes, on the…” He looks at my phone, “Filthy Laundry site. Chloe Turner hashtag.”

God, I’m a hashtag.

“Right. I’ll keep my phone nearby.” He ends the call.

And I get up and start gathering our things.

A few minutes later, I hear him on the phone again.

“Just Jeannie blog? Yeah, not a shocker.” His voice drifts away as he steps into the hallway.

I wait for him to come back in.

“Just Jeannie?” I whisper.

“Jeannie Gilligan. Your ex’s ex.”

I frown. Jeannie?

“The one whose sister got murdered by Hallman’s uncle. So, clearly she’s feeling unhinged after his death if she hasn’t got the good sense to realize she’s fucking with my family in an effort to lash out at you.”

I blink a couple times as this permeates. The little girl who was killed by Adam’s uncle was Jeannie’s sister? What?

I finish packing up our things, mind scattered, hands shaky. It’s all I can do to make sure I remember everything.

I tie my hair up into a ponytail as Derek speaks to the driver that drove us earlier. I hear him give out gate and garage door codes to the driver, who will be bringing everything back to the house, putting it into the garage until we get back later.

Someone brought his SUV here and he got the hotel to put our meals into to-go containers and pack up our wine for later, too. Derek hands the food to Neil, telling him to enjoy the meals with his girlfriend tonight, that we’ll get food on the road. He opens the SUV passenger door, takes my hand, and leads me in.

“What are we even doing?” I mumble after we’ve been on the road for a while.

Derek hasn’t said a word. In fact, he seems like he’s a million miles away. He hasn’t tried to hold my hand or have any sort of conversation.

“I’m taking care of it,” he says.

My phone has been chiming nonstop with messages from Coraline, Maddie, Jeffy, which I haven’t answered or read.

Derek had a phone call come in that had him pull over at a rest stop and walk around the parking lot while I went inside, used the restroom, and purchased coffees for us.

He looked surprised when I handed him one.

He then ended his call and went inside, too, presumably to also use a restroom, and then got us back on the road. That was five or ten minutes ago.

“You’ll take care of it how?” I ask.

His eyes bounce to me and travel my face for a beat before they return to the road.

He straightens up. “Not to worry,” he states, reaching over and squeezing my knee briefly. “I can be quite charming when the situation calls for it.”

I stare at him, a little thrown by that understatement and unsure of what to make of him. Ever since he pulled me out of the tub all panicked, he’s been off.

He’s not all smiles. All charm. No sparkle in his gaze right now. But I haven’t been able to make sense of Derek since we met, so really, what’s different?

He glances at the navigation screen, and I frown because it says we’ll be arriving at our destination in twenty-one minutes.

How the heck am I going to explain this to my parents?

He puts his SUV in park, and I cap my lipstick and shove it into my bag. I’ve put some light makeup on to try to make my face slightly more presentable, but I feel anything but ready. My palms are sweaty. I rub them on my legs and unclip my seatbelt.

Derek’s hand lands on my knee and he squeezes gently.

“Hey?”

I look at him.

“Why are you worried about what they think? They don’t worry much about you. We’ll put whatever minimal issues they might have to rest by me introducing myself and explaining that when Adam ended the relationship with you, I took the opportunity to make sure I didn’t let the grass grow.”

I scoff. “That’s an understatement.”

His eyes travel my face, assessing, then he says, “We’ll explain the basics and then we’ll go, and things will go back to the way they were with them. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

I guess not. I’m an adult, after all. But still. I’m being painted in the media as a gold digger. Is that article going to get much attention?

He jerks his chin toward the house. “This is exactly what I pictured. I see why you fell in love with our house. It’s different, but the street has a similar feel.”

I look at my parents’ house. At the rosebushes Mom loves so much. At the big, old oak on the lawn we used to climb when me and Bryan were kids. The swing set isn’t out back any longer, but I spent hundreds or maybe thousands of hours of my childhood here on this driveway, on that front lawn, in the back yard. Living life. Playing with my brother and our friends. Being mostly carefree. Thinking about my dreams for the future. The house is quite different from the house Derek bought, but it’s got the same wide front porch, mature trees and a similar feel with the manicured landscaping. No one’s properties are gated here. The houses are far enough apart, most people in this neighborhood don’t even have fences.

Both of my parents’ cars are in their carport. Mom still drives a minivan. It’s nearly new, but the same make as what she’s driven throughout most of my childhood. Always maroon. Her favorite color. The same color as Bryan’s football jersey in freshman year, the only year he played football. Before he started getting headaches that led to the diagnosis of the tumor.

Dad’s got a newer car now than what he had on my last visit. It’s a four-door silver Audi.

“Ready?” Derek asks.

I blow out a big breath. “No.”

He takes my hand and kisses it.

And strangely, it makes me feel something not unlike relief. Our eyes meet. I look away quickly, feeling a pang of bitterness mixed with confusion.

“Don’t worry, Chloe. We’ll get through it together.” He releases my hand and gets out.

I take another couple of breaths before I get out. He’s come around to the passenger side to meet me, catching my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze as we walk up the driveway to the front steps.

I pull my hand away, but too late, because my dad is watching from the family room window. He moves, then appears in the window over the door as it opens.

“Chloe? Everything all right?” His eyes ping between me and Derek.

“Hi Dad,” I say, my voice coming out scratchy.

Mom appears behind him, eyes bouncing between me and Derek.

The door opens wider. “Come in,” Dad invites.

“Dr. Turner, I’m Derek Steele. It’s nice to meet you.” Derek extends his hand.

Dad shakes it. “Call me Hal, Derek. My wife Pamela.”

“Mrs. Turner.” Derek shakes her hand.

“Hey Mom,” I greet, leaning over and kissing her cheek. She pats my back a few times before she gestures to the family room.

“Sorry I didn’t call first, but something came up and I wanted to talk to you in person.”

“I’d say so,” Mom says, looking rattled. “Mrs. Johanson just messaged me not five minutes ago to say her daughter saw your face on a gossip blog. Said you got married. I was just about to come talk to your father about it.”

“Married?” Dad asks, eyes landing on my left hand.

“Yes, sir. Ma’am,” Derek says and keeps talking as we walk to the family room. “Chloe and Adam’s relationship has been over for a while now. They were keeping up pretenses for a variety of reasons, mostly because your daughter is so selfless.”

My eyes dart to him with warning. “Derek.”

“No, Chloe, don’t take the blame here. At all. She always does this, doesn’t she?” he says, looking at them like they know this about me and will agree with him.

My parents just stare for a beat before Dad says, “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

“It’s nearly nine o’clock. I’ll take herbal tea. Have decaf, Harold; you know you can’t drink coffee this time of night,” Mom says.

“Decaf sounds fine,” Derek says. “You’ll have to excuse my appearance. We came here from the hotel we’d planned to stay at. These were to be our traveling clothes for the morning to leave for our honeymoon, but we hurried here when that gossip blog hit our radar.”

“Oh?” Mom inquires.

“I’ll explain once the coffee’s done, if that’s all right,” Derek returns.

“Of course, please sit,” Mom invites.

“Tea or decaf, Chloe?” Dad asks.

“Just water for me, thanks, Dad,” I manage.

Dad salutes me and heads to the kitchen.

Mom sits on one couch, Derek and I sit on the other one that faces her.

“Pam, where’s the decaf?” Dad calls out.

Mom excuses herself and joins Dad in the kitchen.

I look at Derek. “Please let me deal with the rest of this.”

“Why?” he asks, looking perplexed.

“Because God knows what’ll come out of your mouth,” I mutter.

“Do you have a plan for how to deal with this?”

“No.”

“I’ve got it. Don’t sweat it.”

I guess it all had to come out eventually, right? Instead of waiting for the right time to tell my family, no time like now, I guess. One less thing to worry about. Because I already have more than enough to stress about. Before I can ponder it further, Mom is back, Dad with her, and carrying a tray with cups, milk and sugar, along with a bottle of water.

“Coffee’s on. I’ll fetch it in a minute,” Dad says.

“You have a lovely home, Doctor and Mrs. Turner,” Derek says.

“Thank you, Derek,” Dad says. “Since you’re becoming part of the family, again, it’s Hal and Pam.”

“Appreciated. Chloe spoke so fondly of her childhood home. I see why,” he adds.

My parents smile at him, but don’t reply. I follow Derek’s eyes, which are pointed at the mantle over the fireplace.

In the center of it sits an eight by ten framed family portrait of the four of us. It was taken when Bryan was twelve, I was thirteen. They’re all light brown-haired. I’m a dark brunette. They’re all brown-eyed. I’m blue-eyed. The photo wasn’t taken long after I found out I’m adopted and every time I’ve looked at that picture all I’ve seen is how one of these things is not like the other.

“So… married?” Dad prompts. “That’s a surprise.”

“City hall?” Mom asks and there’s distaste there.

And as much as it’s a subject I don’t want to address, I’m grateful that there’s not enough dead air for Derek to bring up a taboo subject like my brother. At least I hope he has the good sense to avoid that topic. Although I’m not sure he does.

“I know it was very sudden, but…” I say, and let it hang.

My parents wait.

I’m stumped.

I’ve had a traumatic day. I can’t think.

“But when you know, you know,” Derek speaks up, wrapping his arm around me. “I knew early on. She took a bit of convincing. I just didn’t want to wait.”

Mom asks, “Forgive me Derek, but Chloe, when did things end with Adam? You and I just spoke yesterday, and you didn’t say anything. You’ve only lived in that new house a short while.”

“You were busy, on your way to dinner, so…” I fib. As if I might have told her all my secrets if she’d given me the time.

“Oh,” she says softly.

Before I’m able to say anything further to explain when things with Adam ended, Derek speaks.

“It’s only been just over a week since Chloe technically moved out. But that relationship was on the verge of ending long before that. He was dishonest with your daughter about a lot of things even before his accident.”

I grimace and shoot him a kill look.

He sighs. “She won’t speak poorly of him, feeling bad about his accident and all that, but she really hung in there much longer than she should have given all that he put her through.”

“Derek, stop,” I say through gritted teeth.

Mom and Dad are both rigid, staring at Derek with wide eyes.

“I don’t think you guys need all the gory details. Derek convinced me to make it official with him, but we weren’t planning on going public with it for a while. I’m afraid that gossip column changed everything. I didn’t mean to do anything behind your backs. We kind of… it was a bit of a whim.”

“A whim?” Mom checks. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

Dad frowns. “Well, it would have been wonderful to have a big party and celebrate, walk you down the aisle, sweetheart. But-”

“You can still have all that,” Derek cuts in. “That was always our plan. I didn’t want to wait. Chloe didn’t want to do it without our families present, but I did a grand gesture and swept her off her feet.” He smiles. “We got to put rings on today, but we’re planning for a destination wedding in a couple of months. My family has a great place in the Swiss Alps. We’ve got a dozen bedrooms there so plenty of room to make it a big party.”

“Your family?” Dad asks. “What business are you all in?”

“My grandfather had a shipping company. My father got into real estate investment when he got out of university so worked for my grandfather along with developing his own business, getting into an array of investments. The shipping company was sold a couple of years back after my grandfather passed away, but my father –”

“Michael Steele,” Mom says to Dad.

“The one and only,” Derek confirms.

Dad’s eyes widen. And I’m not sure if it’s because of how wealthy Derek’s family is or if this is down to how murky their reputation is. I’d never heard of them before, but clearly my dad has.

I hear a phone alert. Mom takes her phone out of her sweater pocket and looks at the screen. She frowns.

“And you work for your father?” Dad asks, then he looks at my mom’s phone and does a double-take.

“Yes and no, not entirely. I do have interests in the business, sit on his board of directors and help out where I’m needed, but I own several nightclubs. I invested a chunk of my trust fund, and it went well. That’s something my father preached to all seven of us, not to squander our trust fund money on frivolity. He worked hard for it so he wanted to see us use it to build our own wealth, build something we could be proud of. Like he did. He’s one of five children and only one of two of his siblings who built new wealth instead of simply joining the family business. We’ve all got stakes in the family legacy but most of us have our own businesses as well.”

“Seven children; that’s a very large family,” Mom says as three beeps chime from the kitchen. She puts her phone away.

“I’ll go grab that pot of coffee,” Dad says, hurrying back into the kitchen with a look of stress on his face.

“Six remaining. My brother was shot a few months ago.”

“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry,” she says.

There’s an awkward moment as Derek doesn’t respond to that.

“And how did you two meet?” Mom changes the subject. “Oh, maybe I should wait for your dad.”

“I didn’t miss anything and I’m here, I’m here,” he calls, coming back with the coffee pot, which he leans over with to pour into the two mugs on the tray.

I reach for the bottle of water and uncap it as my mom gets her cup of tea.

“We met at one of my clubs through Chloe’s friend Alannah in a roundabout way,” Derek says. “And then I admit I bought a little company in order to get closer to Chloe. What can I say? I was smitten. She was managing their marketing campaigns, so I bought it and got to get to know her better.”

My face is flaming. I’m trying (and failing) to keep my cool.

Derek keeps talking as my heartrate gallops at a too-fast speed. “And I knew she was unhappy just by looking at her, let alone listening to her. Circumstances have taken a toll on her and… I’m sure as her parents you know… she’s a capable, caring person but she has so much empathy for others that sometimes it stops her from seeking out things that make her happy. She’s so busy worrying about everyone else.”

My parents both nod but with blank faces. Faces I’m accustomed to because no, they don’t really know this about me.

“Put a sock in it,” I mutter, shooting him a warning look, then add, “honey…”

He throws his head back and laughs, then wraps his arm round me and kisses my cheek with affection, saying, “She cracks me up.”

My parents both smile.

“So, now it’s my job to make sure Chloe’s happy,” Derek declares, leaning forward to add sugar to his coffee. “And that’s what I’m going to do. I want you both to rest assured that your beautiful, vibrant, loving daughter is in good hands. She’s so good at everything she does, I just know she’s also going to be an incredible wife. And mother, when that time comes. Which I’m trying to talk her into happening as soon as possible. I was very ready to be her husband and I’m thinking I’m also ready to be a father.”

My parents both look thrown. Of course they are. They met him ten minutes ago.

“I’m sure you’re both looking forward to grandkids, aren’t you?” Derek asks.

Mom looks shellshocked.

Dad shrugs, “Well, sure. Right Pam?”

Mom doesn’t look so sure. “I mean… I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I hadn’t thought of Chloe as ready for that step yet. She’s never mentioned plans for a family.”

“She’s very career-minded, yes, but she has this endless well of love and nurturing inside her,” Derek adds. “As you know…”

My parents nod some more.

Oh for fuck’s sake. It’s taking everything inside me to not scream at the top of my lungs right now.

“So, you’re based in Columbus, then?” Dad asks, sipping his coffee.

Derek shakes his head. “Most of my family is. I grew up with that being home base, but once I started building my business, I’d spent most of my time in Cleveland. I have three nightclubs there, three in Columbus, and two in Cincinnati. But Chloe likes having access to Columbus and her friends there, so we just bought a place in Dublin, Ohio, actually. I surprised her with it and then dropped the engagement ring on her finger while she was asleep. That was how I sold her on marrying me today. The place is great. Perfect place to raise a family.”

Derek smiles and shrugs.

Mom looks at me with astonishment on her face. “That’s very … romantic.”

“Never been one for grand gestures before, but they say that when you know, you know. I just had to make this one fall for me.” Derek sips his coffee.

I glug down a long drink of my water but drink it too fast and wind up choking.

Derek pats my back as I recover.

Finally able to breathe regularly again, I say, “I’m sorry you found out through that gossip thing, Mom.”

Mom nods direly. “I just got a text with a screenshot of what was posted.”

“Ugh,” comes from me.

Derek pipes up. “We suspect Hallman’s ex fiancée runs that blog. And… of course she doesn’t know the whole story, so is taking it upon herself to try to smear Chloe’s good name because she thinks Chloe left him high and dry because of his disability. But the fact of the matter is that it was mostly the other way around. We found out that Adam met that ex the night of the accident. He never told Chloe about it. He was also hiding money. Telling other lies. Just… very selfish. If not for losing use of his legs I’m sure they wouldn’t have lasted as long as they did.”

God, Derek. Stop.

Mom is wide-eyed. “That’s terrible. And it doesn’t seem like him. I mean, we didn’t know him very well, but from what we did know of him, that’s shocking.”

“Chloe was pretty shocked too,” Derek mutters, sipping his drink.

“I’m not interested in getting caught up in the past,” I say, grabbing Derek’s knee. “Or gossiping about other peoples’ business.” Derek puts his hand on mine and weaves our fingers together as I keep talking. “I wanted to come and talk to you about the gossip blog. And to apologize if it causes nonsense for you to have to deal with.”

Derek pipes up. “I was planning to take her on a honeymoon but with the gossip and the fact that she didn’t want you both to find out from someone other than herself, we’ll reschedule that after my parents’ fortieth anniversary celebration, which is this coming weekend. Any chance you two can get down to Columbus and join us on Saturday night? I’d love for you to meet the whole family.”

Oh God, no!

“Well, um…” Mom looks awkwardly at Dad.

I speak quickly. “No, no. I told Derek you guys would prefer to meet my inlaws in a much more lowkey, intimate way versus a party for four hundred.”

“Four hundred?” Mom asks.

“At least,” I say.

“Yes, that… low key is probably better,” Mom says.

“Ah, too bad,” Derek says, then takes another sip of his coffee. “Well, we should hit the road. We didn’t intend to barge in on you both unannounced so late and it’s a long drive back to Dublin.”

“You could stay in Chloe’s old room if you prefer,” Dad pipes up.

Derek looks agreeable to that.

Oh no. Hell, no. Mom shoots Dad a look that says this is the last thing she wants sprung on her out of the blue on a weeknight.

“No, no, that’s okay,” I get to my feet. “You both have work tomorrow. We should go.”

Derek gets up. So do my parents as he says, “We appreciate the offer. Well then, we’ll have to have you over for a weekend once we finish settling in at the new place.”

“That sounds lovely,” replies my mom, politely. “We’d love you to stay any time, but you two got married today. Surely you don’t want to stay here tonight.”

“Good point,” Derek says with a sheepish grin.

I want to crawl into a hole and die.

She gives me a quick hug. Dad gives me more of a bear hug. And I want to sink into it and never get out of it. But I reluctantly let go, unable to stop myself from getting a little misty-eyed, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

“I’ll talk to you guys soon,” I say.

“Congratulations, Chloe. Derek,” Mom says.

“Thanks, Mrs. Turner. I mean Pam. Please do your best to just ignore any online gossip. My family’s PR team is all over this. Our legal team will be, too, if needed. It’ll settle down, not to worry, but if you need anything, here’s my card.” He passes Dad a business card. “Good to meet you both.”

He must have slipped that in his pocket before we came in.

Dad accepts it and then opens his arms toward me.

“One more,” Dad declares, his voice a little gruff.

I step into another hug. “Congratulations, kiddo. Coulda knocked me over with a feather, but as long as you’re happy, that’s all we want.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Derek shakes my father’s hand and kisses my mother’s cheek.

Mom’s eyes hit mine and widen and then she hesitantly smiles.

I force a smile and give another little wave before I walk down the driveway.

Derek opens the door for me and then helps me in.

I wait until we’re off my parents’ street before I look at him and mutter, “Wow. Could you have laid it on any thicker?”

“Got a few points across,” he says with a shrug. “They’re a little… formal with you, aren’t they? Though your father loosened up toward the end.”

I say nothing. He’s got a lot of room to talk when his family is so dysfunctional.

“Then again, they don’t know me. Anyway, I’m fuckin’ starvin’. What’s good around here?”

Flabbergasted, unsure what to even say about all that, I decide to focus on my stomach, too. I managed a couple mouthfuls of breakfast this morning but couldn’t get much down, stressed about the day. Turned out the day was even more stressful than I’d bargained for.

“It’s Monday night and it’s almost ten. Not much open other than maybe a couple drive thrus.”

“Okay, co-pilot. Get me to somewhere with a greasy burger then.”

I direct him through town and we wind up at McDonald’s. We’re waiting for them to bring the food to the car as they need to cook the McNuggets.

“I promise you a much better wedding feast when we have the second ceremony, little bunny.” He caresses my face with his fingertips.

“Please don’t subject me to a second ceremony,” I grumble.

“You don’t want another day in that beautiful dress? With Alannah at your side? Your father walking you to me?”

“To you?” I mutter, then scoff. “I didn’t want to walk to you today; you really think I want to go through that again?”

“Ouch. Not nice.”

“Whatever.”

“Fuck, you looked beautiful today. I’ll never forget it, Chloe.”

The employee brings the food and saves me from having to reply.

Derek passes me my Big Mac and my fries. He puts the twenty-pack of nuggets between us, saying, “To share,” and digs into his double quarter pounder.

“You’re back to your old self,” I muse, reaching for a French fry.

He sips his Coke.

Things go quiet as we eat under a parking lot lamp. I turn the radio on, self-conscious about the potential sound of my chewing.

I’ve got a mouth full of Big Mac when Derek casually says, “My mother tried to kill herself when I was a kid. I found her in a bathtub, unconscious.”

My head turns in his direction, and I grab a napkin and put it to my mouth.

“When I saw you were underwater, not moving, it took me a while to shake it off. Turns out you needing me to act in a crisis snapped me out of it.”

He takes a chicken nugget and pops it into his mouth, then fiddles with the station taking it from news to Smokey Robinson’s Cruisin’ before he turns his attention back to working on his burger.

He sips his Coke again and asks, “Mind if I start driving back now or you want to finish first?”

I finish chewing and wash it all down with a sip of my root beer. “I can eat while you drive,” I say.

He steals one of my fries and then turns the vehicle on.

Derek has endured a whole lot of early life trauma, hasn’t he? Finding his mother unconscious in a tub. Kidnapped and held for ransom? Living in that highly dysfunctional family environment while dealing with those things?

I abandon half my burger but finish my drink. The food is sitting in my gut like a rock.

I make the mistake of trying to distract myself by pulling out my phone. The number of notifications is staggering. Text messages. Social media tags. Missed calls. I start with the text messages, going back to first thing this morning.

Frank (work): Congratulations! Hope you have a long and happy marriage. Look forward to talking to you when you’re back.

I read this in a snarky tone, hearing Frank’s disapproving voice in my head. He’s been a good boss, very understanding considering all the drama in my life in the past seven months, but how could he not feel snarky about this. Just days ago I told him I hadn’t met with Derek and was going home with a migraine. Now Derek tells him that not only is he marrying me, but also he’s buying the company and that I’m Frank’s new boss? Maybe I’m wrong about the snarkiness. But if I were Frank I might be a little salty.

Alannah: Love you. Cya at city hall. I’m bringing something borrowed and BLUE.

I wonder if the blue in caps was a code that referred to Craig, a boy in blue.

Coraline: Girl?

Craig: We need to talk.

Maddie: What’s happening, chica? Methinks we need a ketchup!!!!!!

I almost smile. Maddie loves her puns.

Craig: Get ahold of me, no matter what time.

Paul: Hi Chloe. Sorry to do this by text but Gran passed at 8:40 tonight. Thought you’d want to know. I know things must be weird right now and I don’t expect you to come but in case you want to know, I’ll let you know the funeral details when it is arranged.

Adam’s brother Paul might not know about the wedding today yet. And I’m sure Adam won’t want me to come, considering that he didn’t want me at the hospital. Not to mention getting held by another gun-toting person today because of me.

I take a moment to think about their grandmother. Lovely lady. Loved desserts. Great cook. Enjoyed reading mysteries and watching true crime and court TV. So kind. Never had a bad word to say about anyone.

I decide against opening any social apps. I’m not remotely interested in seeing how the drama has continued to unfold in terms of comments and shares. I don’t want to know what people are saying about me, particularly because Jeannie is trying to control the narrative and make me the bad guy. I’m not a bad guy. I was just gullible enough to get reeled in by a hot guy not realizing the far-reaching impact a hall pass could have on my life.

Hall passes are supposed to be without consequences, aren’t they? Well, I want a refund.

The way it’s gone, though, even if I hadn’t gone home with Derek after the gym that night, this would’ve eventually happened. Because he was determined, wasn’t he?

I can’t answer anyone tonight. I’ll deal later.

“What’s wrong?” the actual bad guy asks, turning the radio down after Smokey is done singing.

“Where do I start?” I mutter.

“Start. Maybe I can help.”

“You’re the cause of all my problems, though.”

“Right,” he says. “But I’m also the solution to all your problems. You just don’t realize it yet.”

It takes me a minute to gather my thoughts. I take the hair tie out of my hair and fluff it out with a sigh. I catch sight of myself in the reflection of the windshield. I’m still wearing Grace’s diamond earrings. I’ll have to return those to her.

“Come on. Try,” Derek prompts.

“Adam’s grandmother is gone for starters.”

“That’s sad,” he says but he says it without real emotion and finishes the last bite of his burger. He crumples the paper and hands it to me. I drop it into the fast food bag beside my feet.

“That’s lip service, Derek.”

“I didn’t know the woman,” he replies. “What do you want me to say?”

He’s taking no responsibility for his part in it, either. He hasn’t said he had nothing to do with it, so clearly he’s admitting that he is responsible for Adam’s uncle’s death.

“How can I help otherwise, Chloe? I’m gonna deal with Hallman’s ex. She’ll stop slandering you. Not to worry.”

“Don’t take care of it with violence, Derek,” I warn. “Violence is never the answer.”

“I beg to differ, but what else beyond that? Anything?”

“Okay, first: how about if you let Craig off the hook?”

“Ah. Why are you worried about Officer Jenkins? He’s a big boy that can take care of himself, I’m sure.”

“He’s Adam’s best friend; he’s my friend. A part of my life. He’s into Alannah and might be in my life going forward. Even if he wasn’t, I still give a shit.”

“Okay…” He lets that hang.

“And he’s just doing his job. Alannah pulled him into this … this thing with us today because she cares about me and because her and I try to help one another when one of us is stuck. And now you’re gonna try to force him to be a dirty cop? You’re punishing him for simply being who he is, trying to help me when he thought I needed help. He’s a good guy.”

He snickers. “He’s not been made to do anything. Yet. He’s on standby to help me, should I need the help.”

“He’s an actual good guy and there aren’t many of those around.”

“So…”

“So I’d like you to let him off the hook.”

“And I’d like you to give me a shot at making you happy,” he fires back.

“More blackmail? Great. Great way to start a marriage.”

“Is this going to be a marriage, Chloe? It is to me, but what about you? If it is, there won’t be any blackmail required. Because you’ll be giving me what I want.”

“Which is for me to pretend I’m okay with all of this?”

He shakes his head. “Which is for you to let me do my job. I wanted to be your husband and now I am. Now I have a daily goal and checklist for that. I really think that’ll go a long way for both of us if you let me do my thing. Needing to deal with the gossip blog tonight snapped me out of a bad mindset. Will doing my job as your husband help me stay out of a bad headspace? Maybe.”

I cross my arms and stare out the window.

“Think about it,” he requests. “You’re attracted to me. The sex is incredible. That’s a basis for a relationship to develop, right? Let it develop. Be open-minded.”

I continue staring out the window.

“Think about it,” he repeats.

A while later, I pull my phone out and reply to Craig.

I’m so so sorry about today. I’m trying to talk sense into him to get him to leave you be. Thank you for trying to help.

My phone almost immediately rings. Craig calling.

I answer it.

“Hello?”

“You alone?”

“No.” Though it wouldn’t matter if I was since he’s got my phone bugged.

“Right. I’ll make this quick and I’ll do the talking. Not your fault. Don’t worry about me. I knew exactly what I’d be wading into, and I made the choice to do that. I’ll figure things out. I wanted you to know Adam didn’t push Jeannie to do any of that blog stuff. She works at City Hall and saw you guys when you got your marriage license and went apeshit. The only thing I will ask is for you to please request Derek gives me 24 hours to get her to back off before he retaliates. We don’t need any other casualties. I was instructed not to reach out to him directly, ever, and I wouldn’t normally put you in the middle, but I needed to do that just this once. My dad and Jeannie’s mom are first cousins. They’re close. I can’t just stand by and let her get on the Steele shit list.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I say.

“Who is that?” Derek asks.

“It’s Craig.”

He gestures for me to give him the phone.

“One sec.” I hand it over.

“Jenkins,” Derek greets, changing the phone to his left hand and taking the steering wheel with his right.

I knew Craig and Adam had been friends since they were kids. It’s hitting me now that Craig knows Adam’s history. Another person from his old life that he didn’t cut off when he tried to move on from the childhood trauma. Did they all grow up in Michigan and move here? Did Adam move here to be closer to Craig and Jeannie followed? Did Adam and Jeannie live together, too? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s all moot now. Adam is no longer in my life.

Derek listens for a minute, then says, “Well, my wife is being pretty adamant about the fact that she doesn’t want your squeaky-clean record and conscience sullied, so if my wife plays her cards right, maybe she’ll get her wish.”

I fight the urge to gawk at him. Instead, I bite my lip and fix my gaze on the dark road ahead.

“Well…” Derek says after a moment, “I need to see just what she’s written first, but if you ensure Ms. Gilligan deletes her blog post and any and all negative content about my wife as well as refrains from hassling her any further, ensuring she stops slandering Chloe or anyone else with the name Steele, I’ll consider letting it go. Right. And hear me right now, Jenkins, this is the one time you get away with using Chloe to get to me. Clear? Bye for now.”

“How does your family force cops to turn dirty?” I ask.

“We gather information and use it to our advantage. If there’s a big need and nothing to find, we fabricate. With evidence to back it up.”

“That’s despicable.”

“I know.” He shrugs.

“Your father came from a wealthy family. Why turn to crime if there’s already money there?”

“Most successful people have some degree of corruption attached to them. People just don’t always find out about it. My grandfather and likely his grandfather before him had to get his hands dirty along the way to maintain power and wealth. My father inherited not only the family wealth, but also all those strategic relationships. My dead brother had issues. He was hotheaded and jealous of everyone. Especially Elijah. Thaddeus had substance abuse problems and got sloppy while he had a sometimes public battle with Eli, so it’s just in the past five years or so that the Steele name got enough negative attention to create whispers and rumors. We all run clean businesses. But to do that, sometimes we have to create unsavory relationships and occasionally get our hands dirty.”

“A dick swinging contest,” I mutter.

He laughs. “Sometimes, yeah. I run clubs in business districts, near airports, and in blue collar areas in the three big cities in the state. I have a team that sifts through the gathered intelligence, and it helps my family keep us ahead of things. Eli does things in his business that benefit the family. So does Jonah. Ash isn’t as involved, but he’s had to get his hands dirty, too, a couple times. I’m not close with my brothers, but we all work toward a common goal of protecting what matters to us collectively.”

I’m thrown for a loop when he turns off early but realize we’re going to the house. That beautiful home that I haven’t let myself enjoy. It’s only been a day since he brought me there but today has felt like dozens of days all rolled into one.

I’m suddenly bone-tired.