Chapter 23 ~ Carter ~
"A lright, Francis." I hung up, satisfied. In our business, there was no break even on weekends. Francis was at our production facility outside New York, overseeing the setup of the new production line. We were about to start manufacturing the battery that was better than anything else on the market. I wouldn't stop fighting for Donovan's contract.
And I would win!
That's exactly why we were working at full speed in our factory. Everything was going according to plan there. I nodded contentedly and slipped my phone into the pocket of my sweatpants. I looked down at myself and grinned. Now Cameron would have nothing to complain about. My shoes matched my outfit perfectly.
However, I didn't care what Cameron would say. Isabella had liked my new outfit. That's what mattered.
Carter! What are you thinking?
What was I thinking?
Well, Isabella was just... someone special. Originally, I had only wanted to have a bit of fun with her, but now I couldn't imagine just letting her go like that. I DIDN'T WANT to just let her go like that. I WOULDN'T just let her go like that.
Wait.
Had I really just thought that?
Me, Carter Jenkins?
The man who had hired a "fiancée" to avoid commitment?
Yes.
I had thought that.
And I felt pretty good about it.
More than that.
I felt excellent.
Probably better than any other man at the wedding. Including Cameron. He had seemed rather absent-minded and a bit grumpy. Hanny apparently didn't ignite much passion in him, and the thought of a future with her seemed to make him rather disgruntled.
I grinned.
So I would outdo my brother in this respect as well.
I looked at myself in the mirror one more time, grinned again, satisfied with my unusual outfit, and made my way downstairs. As I crossed the salon, my grandmother came towards me.
"Carter! There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!" Grandma Ruth looked at me reproachfully.
"I had an urgent call to make. Work doesn't rest even today, at least not for me," I apologized.
"And why do you have to do that in sportswear?" my grandmother wanted to know. "That's not exactly appropriate for a wedding party."
I laughed and hugged my grandmother. She was always concerned about the family's well-being and had always made sure that we all looked good, were neatly combed, and wore clean clothes. That hadn't changed. "Of course, I don't have to do it in sportswear. My suit got wet earlier when I had to get a child out of the pool."
"Get a child out of the pool?" my grandmother repeated questioningly.
"A little boy fell into the water while playing. He couldn't swim," I explained.
"You really are a good boy, Carter," my grandmother said then and patted my arm. "And you deserve only the best."
I grinned.
Yes, I did.
As much as my grandmother had sometimes annoyed me with her attempts at upbringing, I loved her just as much. I wouldn't want to miss her for anything in the world. And in the end, she had usually been right. Even now. The engagement had turned out to be exactly what I needed.
I had hesitated for a long time to admit it to myself, but that's exactly how it was.
"Is Isabella the best for you?" my grandmother asked now and looked at me sharply.
"Yes! Of course! You've met her. Don't you like her?" My grandmother had seemed to take Isabella to her heart earlier, so I didn't understand why she was now expressing doubts about our relationship.
"I heard that you two aren't really engaged and that all of this is just a game. What on earth are you thinking?" Grandma Ruth lifted her silver cane from the floor and poked it between my ribs. I briefly winced. That would leave a bruise. I wouldn't have thought Grandma Ruth had so much strength. Was she fooling us all and didn't really need the cane at all?
I focused my thoughts on the present.
"Where did you hear that?" I wanted to know.
"Aha! So you admit it's true!" Grandma Ruth looked at me angrily.
"I didn't say that! Of course it's not true! I got engaged because... well, because Isabella is the right woman for me. But I want to know who's spreading such rumors about me!" I looked at my grandmother energetically. That at least elicited a small smile from her.
"I see, you're just like me," she praised me now.
"Who's saying such things?" I wouldn't let it go. Had Cameron betrayed me?
"I won't tell you," my grandmother replied.
So Cameron. I felt the vein at my temple start to throb. Would that guy never give up? Was grandmother's inheritance so important to him? Why was he spreading these rumors about me?
"You haven't answered my question, Carter. Are you with Isabella or not?" My grandmother could be persistent.
So could I.
I remained silent.
I had already answered that question.
"You see, I heard something else. That's why I just asked you if Isabella is the best woman for you. Abigail's father just called me. He said you and Abigail were considering reconciling." My grandmother took a deep breath.
What? Donovan Hayden Ellesmere had called my grandmother? That man really stopped at nothing. Or had Abigail put him up to it?
"He'd like that," I grumbled. "He's tried several times to pressure me into letting Abigail back into my life. But I won't do it. I didn't want to before I met Isabella, and I don't want to now."
"Donovan said more. Please let me finish, Carter. It's less about Abigail and more about whether Isabella is the right woman for you!" My grandmother tapped her silver cane energetically on the floor. I was grateful she didn't jab it between my ribs again. That had been quite unpleasant.
"Donovan met you at a hotel. Isabella showed up there too. Your fiancée. Or supposed fiancée."
"That's correct," I confirmed.
"It all seemed a bit strange to him. You and Isabella, you didn't seem very trusting to him..."
Well, well. Good old Donovan had better observational skills than I thought.
"He just imagined that," I brushed it off.
"And a certain Owen also came to the hotel."
Owen? I frowned. Who was that again? "I don't know any Owen," I said. "At least I can't remember anyone by that name who was at the hotel that evening."
"A man Isabella got into an argument with."
Oh, right. So that was Owen. The unpleasant guy I'd thrown out.
"I didn't know his name was Owen," I replied. "If you'll excuse me now. I need to get back to Isabella urgently." I was tired of this topic, nodded to my grandmother, and made my way out. But I didn't get far.
"Donovan observed you throwing Owen out of the hotel. Then he talked to Owen. About you. And about Isabella." My grandmother's voice made me stop.
"What gives him the right?" The vein at my temple started to throb. "He seems to have a great interest in us," I sneered. How dare Donovan spy on me?
My grandmother remained undeterred. "He found out things you should know."
"Oh really?" I asked, only half interested. But my grandmother's next words woke me up. More than that.
They hit me like a sledgehammer.
"Owen is Isabella Abbott's fiancé. And so, my dear Carter, I wonder how it can be that you bring Isabella here today and present her as your fiancée. Since I don't assume you're stupid enough to get involved with a woman who's already engaged..." My grandmother straightened her shoulders. "You lied to me!" While my grandmother had initially sounded sad, her voice had become more energetic towards the end, and an indignant spark had crept into her eyes. Family honor meant everything to my grandmother.
What had she just said?
Owen was Isabella's fiancé?
"That can't be," I said confidently. "Isabella and Owen... no." I shook my head, remembering how desperately Isabella had wanted to get rid of Owen. Surely that wasn't her fiancé.
Or was it?
A doubtful voice spoke up in the back of my mind.
What if Isabella and Owen were one of those couples who regularly fought and sometimes even got physical?
My grandmother looked at me with pity. "The two of them own an apartment together. Donovan had it checked through a private investigator. The credit is in both their names and is quite in arrears. They urgently need money. The situation at the bank is precarious. If they don't pay soon, the apartment will be sold. It also fits that Owen asked Donovan for a job. The two of them would probably do just about anything to get money."
The two of them would probably do just about anything to get money.
My grandmother's last sentence echoed back and forth in my head.
Isabella needed money.
That's why she had accepted my offer.
But that she had someone else, that she...
"Why does Donovan hire a private investigator for this?" There was a last bit of hope in me. Maybe all of this wasn't true after all.
"I think he's looking for ways to bring you and Abigail back together. He seems to be willing to use almost any means." My grandmother looked at me.
"He can forget about that." I snorted.
"I know, Carter. That's not what this is about now. Why did you bring Isabella here as your fiancée if she's already taken? Is this another one of your games? Are you that desperate for my money?" Grandma Ruth now looked like she wanted to rip my head off.
But I could only think of one thing.
If she's already taken.
Isabella was taken.
I clenched my fists. In the end, all the passion had just been an act! Isabella belonged to someone else and didn't care about me in the slightest! She had only been after my money! At first, I might have been a nice flirt, a harmless pastime, someone who prevented another violent argument with her fiancé. And then I had become the long-awaited salvation for her debts. Possibly even for her relationship.
Isabella had accepted my offer and played her role as if it had been tailored specifically for her. Not for a moment had I doubted her passion. Her devotion. Her fervor.
And in the end... I had been nothing but a distraction for her. A welcome change of pace. Someone who paid her debts.
Perhaps...
Perhaps it hadn't even been about a change of pace. Maybe Isabella had simply slept with me to ensure she really got her 50,000. Or perhaps... perhaps she had even calculated for more! If she and her dear fiancé Owen had debts for an apartment, then 50,000 would only be a drop in the bucket. Real estate in New York cost a fortune! The two of them definitely needed more money than just 50,000.
Yes, Isabella had certainly counted on more.
Perhaps a bonus?
I laughed out loud.
She could forget about that now!
She wouldn't get anything.
Absolutely nothing.
I would even keep the 50,000 for myself.
After all, our contract contained a success clause.
"That..." I clenched my fists again. I gritted my teeth until they ground. My jaws worked. The vein at my temple swelled. I wanted to... "That damn liar," I forced out, barely holding myself back from shouting aloud. I didn't want to frighten my grandmother.
I had fallen for a money-hungry, greedy fraud who would stop at nothing to protect her own interests.
Bitterly, I thought about how I had just been considering that Isabella should never leave my life again. That I didn't want to let her go.
A loud snort escaped me.
Isabella was in for a surprise.
I would throw her out of my life. And I'd do it unceremoniously. With a running start. Immediately.
Anyone who played such a false game could consider themselves lucky if I let them go without punishment.
"I'll show her!" I slammed my right fist onto the antique dresser next to which my grandmother and I were standing. My grandmother tapped her cane on the floor three times.
"Are you saying you knew nothing about this?" Grandma Ruth looked at me sharply.
"Of course not," I hissed.
Grandma Ruth studied me for a while longer. Then she nodded. "I'm coming with you," she announced. "We'll show that woman what happens when she lies to members of our family like that." My grandmother looked at me firmly. "I'll tell you one thing, Carter: You deserve a woman who loves you with all her heart. Just as you are. Not one who's only after your money."
While I could have easily handled Isabella on my own, the idea of my grandmother jabbing her silver cane between Isabella's ribs while she stood before us, stammering embarrassedly and trying in vain to justify her deceit... this image filled me with a certain satisfaction.
Isabella might have made a fool of me.
Now she would see what she got for it.
Nothing.
She would be left empty-handed.
And it wouldn't take me long to banish her completely from my memory.
Yes.
That's exactly what I would do.