Sucker of the Century
Maisie
On the small balcony, my question hung between us like a final thread holding us together. As the nighttime breeze rustled my hair, I held my breath and waited.
Finally, Griff said, "My dad." He didn't even phrase it as a question. He just tossed it out like there was nothing left to say.
And yet, like a total idiot, I waited for more. A name. A sentence. Anything. But there was only silence along with the sensation of my heart sinking like a rock in water.
Why I waited, I had no idea. After all, I'd learned most of this on my own. The article had been short – just a few lines tucked beneath a photo I couldn't unsee.
Griff and his father.
They'd been sealing some ginormous business deal like it was nothing.
That wasn't all. They'd been smiling like a family Christmas card come to life. And that resemblance? It was more than uncanny. They had the same jawline, the same posture, the same cocky look that said, Yeah, we own the place.
I hadn't needed to read the fine print. Between the photo and a quick Web search that revealed Griff's home address, I'd seen more than enough. I'd even seen photos of his Chicago penthouse, vacant before Griff had moved in.
The price wasn't even listed, showing instead just a row of blocked-out numbers, like you needed special clearance to see the full amount.
I had no clearance, but I was willing to get creative. A second search revealed a few neighboring properties that were similar, if not quite as nice. The prices were so high, I had blushed at the irony.
To think, I'd invited this guy – a silver-spoon billionaire – to stay at my outdated little house, with its faded walls and creaky floors, not to mention the single bathroom with its leaky faucet and old countertop with that chip on the edge.
He must've died laughing.
But he wasn't laughing now.
And neither was I.
And yet, I still tried to look on the bright side. At least I wasn't just a fuck buddy.
Or so he'd said.
Goodie for me.
But hey, I was something even worse.
A fool.
A foolish fuck buddy?
I should be saluting. Sucker of the century, reporting for duty.
I heard myself say, "Aren't you even gonna deny it?"
His voice was cold as he replied, "Deny what?"
"That your dad is David Montgomery?" I forced a sad little laugh. "You know, the billionaire hedge fund manager." I feigned confusion. "And hey…isn't he from Wall Street?"
Griff stiffened. "Just because he is, that doesn't mean I am."
"But you were named after him…at least in a roundabout way. I mean…your first name is his last name, right?"
"In theory."
What kind of answer was that? "Regardless, that has to mean something . "
"Yeah, well…you'd have to ask my mom, not me."
Ask his mom. The thought hurt to consider. As I searched his face for any sign of sincerity, my thoughts drifted to that one magical night, when Griff had hinted that he would like me to meet her.
That wouldn't be happening now.
I should be glad.
For all I knew, his mom was some rich society type who'd look down her nose at someone like me. And no, I didn't know for sure, because after maybe fifteen minutes of basic research, I'd rushed over here to get the full story straight from him.
But now, he said nothing. Here on the balcony, he was just standing there, silent and stone-faced, like if he only waited long enough, I'd vanish on my own.
It was an obvious hint, so why wasn't I taking it?
I glanced toward the interior of the apartment – if you could call it that. The place was so dumpy, it had to be a joke. Rich men and their games – I'd never figure them out.
Then again, it's not like I made a habit of rubbing elbows with billionaires. And forget other body parts.
All of Griff's parts were exceptionally fine – and not only those below the waist. How many nights had I slept curled up in his muscular arms, with my cheek pressed to his chiseled chest? How many mornings had I woken to the sensation of his lips on my forehead, nuzzling me out of my dreams?
At the thought of everything we'd shared, my heart literally ached.
This was the worst of all worlds, because somehow this one stupendous guy had managed to shatter my trust and ruin me for all other men.
And he'd done it in less than a month.
Softly, I asked, "So…you've got nothing to say?"
"Why would I?" he said. "It seems to me, you've got it all figured out."
"Oh come on! That's not fair, and you know it."
"No kidding," he said, like I was the one who had deceived him .
I stared, almost too stunned to speak. "So, that's how you're gonna play it?"
He didn't answer, at least not with words. He just stood there, with his arms crossed and jaw set, like his best defense was to say nothing at all.
It was the silence of someone looking to avoid an ugly scene. But didn't he get it? Ugly scenes weren't my style. They never had been. Even with Devon, it's not like I'd pitched a fit.
And yet, it wasn't lost on me that I'd done a lot more yelling tonight than I'd ever done with Devon.
What exactly did that mean?
I wasn't sure, and I didn't dare contemplate, especially not here at the end. My throat tightened as I said, "Well…I guess I got my answer."
As I pushed away from the railing, it wasn't the wood that broke. It was my own voice as I said, "You're right. I don't know everything. But maybe part of me – a stupid part of me, I guess – thought I'd get at least some of the story." I blinked long and hard. "You know…from you."
He shifted like he might speak. But then he didn't.
And me? Like a total sap, I waited. And then I waited some more.
For nothing.
Finally, I nodded once, sharp and small, and then turned and walked back into his apartment. He didn't follow – or even turn my way. But hey, it's not like I'd been expecting him to.
While Griff stared off at whatever, I made a beeline toward the rickety old table. As I moved, I dug deep into my pocket for the thing I'd brought to help even the score – not as far as feelings, but as far as everything else.
I dropped it silently onto the table and then walked out through the same door I'd left open on my way in.
I didn't bother looking back, because if he'd wanted to stop me, he surely would've.
But he didn't.
And that told me all I needed to know.