Epilogue Deanna
One Year Later
The club is obscenely loud. Young people grind on the dance floor and pretty girls in short skirts lounge near the bar. I wonder how many are hookers. Probably half.
“That’s my shit!” Chase Devereaux jumps to his feet when a new Beyonce song comes on. I barely recognize it. God, I’ve been such a workaholic this past year that I haven’t had much time to keep up with pop culture.
Better not tell Prime. He’ll rub it in my freaking face.
I tip the bottle girl ten bucks and she comes back with more champagne. “So what were you thinking, Chase? Are you happy with the numbers?” I hold the bottle, unwrapping the foil.
“Numbers?” He frowns at me, confused, before brightening. “Shit, yeah, the property. Look, Deanna, you’re the shit. For real, I mean that, like, deep in my heart, you are wildly the shit. I’m head over heels for the numbers.”
“Then we’re doing this?”
He sinks down across from me. Chase’s baby face twists into a manic smile, his bright blue eyes glowing.
“Fuck yeah we’re doing it. Pop that bottle, bitch!”
I’m so glad Prime isn’t here.
He’d smash Chase’s teeth straight through his throat.
“Here’s to new deals!”
We toast and drink. Chase sprays champagne on some passing girls. One of them gets pissed, the bouncers come over, I have to bribe the manager and I send the girls a bottle of vodka to make them happy, and all the while Chase barely even notices there’s a commotion.
Four months.
Chase Devereaux, playboy, spoiled rich kid, investor, has been the bane of my existence. I’ve been courting him ever since I heard he was looking for properties to dump his prodigious generational wealth into, and now finally, fucking finally, I have him.
“Sign here, here, and here.”
He scribbles his name. The contracts gets liquor on it but I’m pretty sure it’s still legal.
“Love this! Love it to fucking hell!” He leaps over the back of the private couch we’re sitting on. “I’m going to go dance. See you later, Deanna, you snake!”
I wave him off and the second he’s gone, I gather all my things, pay the tab, and get the fuck out of there.
Chase won’t notice I’m gone. Chances are good he’ll wander home with some pretty gold digger, fuck her brainless, and never learn her name.
He reminds me of someone I know.
The black town car is waiting outside the club. The window rolls down as I approach and Prime leans toward me, talking over the dull pulse of the music. Dozens of people waiting in line for entrance watch curiously.
“How’d it go in there?”
“Got him.” I hold up the papers triumphantly. “Can you believe it?”
“Absolutely yes, I really can.” He opens the door, pulls me into the back seat, and kisses me.
“You know what’s the best part? He’s totally legit. My side of the company.”
“Lucky girl.”
“And you’re sure your boss won’t mind?”
“Already ran it past him. He thinks it’s funny. I mean, Chase Devereaux’s got a reputation.”
“He really does.” I lean against my husband’s shoulder and run a finger down his chest. “Just like someone else I know.”
“Careful,” he warns.
“What? I’m only saying, a certain man was a playboy drowning himself in strange?—“
“Damn it, wife.” He tugs me by the hair and kisses me hard, burying my mouth.
I kiss him back, pleased that I got the exact reaction I was hoping for.
He releases me reluctantly as the car pulls into traffic.
I stay pressed against him, his hand gripping my thigh protectively.
I’m aware that there were at least six of his men in the club keeping me safe, but I made him swear they wouldn’t get involved unless I was in real trouble.
It’s nice, having a backstop, but I want to earn what I have.
He made me partner, and now I’m going to make him regret not doing this sooner.
“I’ve been thinking—“ He looks out the window, watching the houses flit past as the driver takes us home. “Now that you brought in Devereaux, your schedule might calm down. We might have more time for us.”
“You need more us time? We have us time every night, most mornings, a few afternoons a week?—“
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean, big, beautiful husband of mine?”
“Well, your mom mentioned grandkids a few days ago.” He says it calmly, but it takes me like a truck from nowhere.
“You were talking to my mom?”
“I visit them all the time. You know that.”
“Right, I know but—“ I lean away from him. “You were talking about kids?”
“She asked.” He tightens his grip on my leg.
“And you said you wanted them?”
“I said I wanted as many kids as you’re willing to give me. I had a fucked up childhood, you know that, and I want the chance to be a better father than I ever had.”
“Prime—“
“Think about it. We can start tonight, if you want.”
“God, Prime, I mean—“ I chew my lip, pulse racing, and I’m afraid but I have to be honest with him. “I’m not ready for kids.”
I expect pain, but he only nods. “I figured.”
“Then why are you bringing it up?”
“So you know where I’m at and what I want.”
“Prime…”
“I mean it. When you’re ready, I’m ready. No rush, no pressure.”
I lean against him again tentatively. “I like where I am right now. I like our life and I like my job. I want to enjoy it for a while.”
“How’s a few weeks sound?”
“Stop it. More like a few years.”
“Alright. I’ll ask again a few years from now.”
I glance up. “Seriously? You’re not joking?”
“Baby, I want to enjoy you too. Three years is going to go fast, and besides—“ He kisses me slow. “We got time, right?”
“We got time,” I agree, smiling as the kiss turns heavy, and the car can’t get home fast enough.