43. Byron
43
BYRON
S uddenly, it wasn’t all fun and games anymore.
Meg’s voice trembled, betraying the anxiety she struggled to conceal. The usual fire and sass that made her so unmistakably her were gone. And just like that, my relentless ache for Meg faded into the background, shoved aside by the desperate urge to soothe whatever storm was causing her grief.
The song was the closest I could come to comforting her after leaving the library. Let her believe BB could tune into her mood from two states away. I just wanted her to be okay.
Besides, her unhappiness was all my fault. Like a total idiot, I assumed she’d handle this thing between us with the kind of effortless ease she did everything else.
It was simple, really. You liked someone, they liked you back, and with the sexual tension humming like a live wire between us, what could possibly go wrong?
Turns out, a hell of a lot.
I had this shiny new life, full of opportunities, that I was ready to dive into. And having this intense, chaotic feeling for Meg was incredible. It was a first for me, and there was no way I was going to let that feeling slip through my fingers.
And I was pretty much willing to do anything to make it work.
But now, here I was, facing a massive mess of my own making. Creating BB? It never once crossed my mind that it could spiral into something this...real.
If I thought before that killing off BB would be the easiest solution, I now realized how that might hurt Meg more than I thought possible. It should be Meg who ended things with BB.
But for that to happen, maybe the guy had to become an intolerable asshole. And that, Old Byron could do with his eyes closed.
I started brainstorming all the ways BB could dig his own grave. Of course, that meant with him out of the picture, those big shoes would be mine and mine alone to fill.
I found Nelson in my office, setting a place for lunch on my desk. “There he is,” he said as I strolled inside. “Here’s your Chicken Marsala and cannoli. Will you be having a coffee or a cappuccino with your dessert?”
It took me a moment to calibrate. “Oh, thank you, Nelson,” I said absently. “Cappuccino would be lovely.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “Someone’s lost in thought. Everything all right?”
I glanced at him, weighing how much to reveal. “If you could see to it that Meg gets her lunch in the library, I’d appreciate it.”
“Oh, I will see to that immediately.” He texted someone and then looked up at me. “If the two of you are talking again, I take it the fence is on its way to being mended.”
“It was all a misunderstanding, and now that it’s been straightened out, I think things will be fine.”
“Misunderstandings do seem to run rampant in this house. But, if everything is all right, why the long face, Byron?”
The aroma of the food wafted through the air, and where I was usually a glutton for a well-prepared meal, hunger suddenly escaped me. Not that I wasn’t going to enjoy Marcella’s delicious food.
“There’s something I have to fix, something I did out of desperation, not realizing the consequences. Now it’s come back to bite me in the ass.”
Nelson tilted his head, contemplating me. “Dare I ask?”
Then I thought screw it, if anyone could tell me what to do, it was probably Nelson.
“I pretended to be someone else and started something online with Meg. All I wanted to do was talk to her and get to know her better, which was impossible with her working from home. Now the relationship online has become a little more serious than I intended, and it’s all become somewhat impossible to navigate.”
“So, this man who is you but is someone else is one Meg is falling for, but she doesn’t know that it is you.”
I confirmed that with a nod. “Correct. Although I’m quite sure she feels something for the real me too.”
“Oh. So, our Meg is at this juncture torn between two lovers, but in reality, it’s only one lover.”
“Again, correct, but I wouldn’t say lovers ,” I said quickly. “Well, not yet anyway.”
“Then tell me this…has this relationship between her and the other man evolved into anything indecent? I know you young ones do all sorts of questionable things online these days—”
“You mean, like sexting? No!”
Nelson blinked. “Sexting? Is that what they call it? Ohh, what a catchy word. And did you exchange any explicit pictures, because I know that’s also a fad nowadays.”
It was so Nelson to make everything sound profoundly more refined than it was. I smiled. “Like a dick pic?”
“Rather vivid description, but I suppose.”
“No,” I said. “I drew the line at sexting with Meg for obvious reasons, and sending dick pics just isn’t my thing. There are certain things not even I would do.”
“So, this online relationship with Meg is completely based on what you like about each other as two human beings.”
“Yes, and who knew it could get so intense?”
“And now you want to get rid of this gentleman who has captivated Meg, who is in fact you.”
“Yes, but please don’t think I’m going back to being the old Byron…” I pleaded.
“Why would I think that?”
“Lying to Meg. If she found out, there would be hell to pay.”
Nelson paused, then shrugged it off. “But if Meg likes both this online version of you and the real you, who’s to say it wouldn’t be a relief to her if they turned out to be one and the same?”
“You think so?”
“Well, it makes sense to me. At least consider telling her before she finds out some other, godawful way. Now, go eat your lunch before it gets cold.”
“Right, that makes sense. Thank you, Nelson.”
“You’re welcome. And Byron? Remember, being a new man doesn’t mean you have to be perfect. No one is. You’re doing fine so far.”
And what do you know, my appetite returned with a vengeance. I sat down at my desk where the tasty spread was, and texted Meg.
Me: Buon appetito, signorina Belfiore!
I waited with bated breath for a reply, and finally my phone dinged.
Meg: Buon appetito, signor Belmont.
Then I ate the best Chicken Marsala and cannoli I had ever had. And invigorated, I went back to work. That was until BB’s phone dinged.
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Not that I had anyone else to blame but myself.
Meg: So, I was invited to go to this ritzy place tonight called Silver Spoon. But I think I’d rather stay home and chat with you.
Then I remembered sexy boy at Silver Spoon, who’d invited Meg.
Oh, this wouldn’t do. Not one bit.
I could barely type fast enough.
BB: You mean, like a date?
Meg: I canceled the date, but he told me my name will still be on the guest list if I wanted to pop in for a free drink.
And this was where a baby seed of an idea was nurtured into a grand plan. Remember, I was the owner of the establishment called Silver Spoon.
BB: Why don’t you go? I’m heading out for a few drinks myself. We can always talk afterward.
There was a long pause. I couldn't help but wonder if the minx was starting to get territorial over BB being out with someone else. I might have created a monster.
Five minutes later, BB’s phone dinged with a text.
Meg: You mean, like a date?
This was quickly turning into a slippery slope. I had a choice to make. Either turn BB into an asshole or keep him nice until I could come clean to Meg.
My fingers hovered over the screen, a bead of cold sweat running down my back. What was I supposed to say?
Before I could spiral into full panic mode, Fate stepped in.
Meg: You know what? It’s none of my business. Have a great time. We’ll talk later.
BB: But no J?germeister for you.
Meg: Moscow Mules all the way.
BB: Do you know what time you’ll be going?
Meg: Around eight, then I’ll have a couple of drinks and head back home.
BB: Have fun, Meg.
Meg: You too, Quasi, you too.
My first call was to the manager at Silver Spoon. By seven tonight, I wanted real ginger beer at the bar. I didn’t care if they had to fly it in from the moon.
My second call was to one of my lawyers, who was the closest thing to a friend I had. There was something we needed to talk about that fed straight into my grand plan.
My third and last call was to Emily. As my mother, she had the right to know what was going on and what was about to happen.