36. Vanessa
CHAPTER 36
VANESSA
I’m supposed to be working on my final term paper for one of my many public relations courses—for this paper we were each given a scenario and have to lay out in explicit detail how we would handle this particular mishap—but it’s kind of impossible to type with Teddy’s head in my lap, despite my computer propped on a pillow.
Forgetting my paper for the moment, I brush my fingers through his soft brown hair.
“It was a disaster. We didn’t even make it to the game. Mascen’s pissed, Coach is pissed, and fuck it, I’m pissed too. We only have a few games left this year and then it’s over. Onto … onto whatever it is that’s next.”
“Have you thought more about what you want to do?” I pick up the plastic bag from the bed, plucking a snickerdoodle cookie from it. Apparently once Teddy got back to campus after the disastrous attempt to get to the game, he started stress baking.
He’s quiet, unusual for him. I continue to run my fingers through his hair and his eyes grow heavy. Just when I’m certain he’s fallen asleep he says, “I have some idea, but it’s going to sound crazy.”
“Teddy,” I stifle a laugh, “you’re already the craziest person I know, so it would take a lot to surprise me.”
He wiggles on my bed, adjusting his head in my lap. He looks up at me, green eyes bright with excitement, and his jaw stubbled with several days’ worth of scruff. “I think I want to move to New York City and buy a food truck but focus on pastries and sweets. Mostly cookies, obviously. Just like you suggested. The more I think about it the more I like the idea.”
“I think that sounds amazing.” I beam down at him, brushing his hair off his forehead which I then kiss. “I’m brilliant, after all, so why wouldn’t you listen to me?”
Reaching up, he grabs a piece of my hair twirling it around his finger. “I know you’ve mentioned doing PR in the city before, and I thought you might want to live with me.” He clears his throat. “You know … more economical.”
Shocked doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel. Yes, what Teddy and I have has morphed into more, but we haven’t even said I love you yet, and he’s talking about moving in after graduation? The idea should scare me more than it does, but I can see it working.
“Maybe,” I hedge, not wanting to commit to anything since I don’t even have any job prospects lined up.
His warm hand cups my cheek, gently tugging my chin down to look at him. “Let me make something clear to you. I don’t want this to end after we walk across the stage.”
“Why? Why me?”
“I’m not following.”
I sigh and he sits up, turning to face me. “I mean, you could’ve had any girl you wanted at any point in time. What changed? Why am I different?”
“You’re different because you’re you.” I start to tell him that’s not a good enough answer for me, but he goes on. “You see me for me. You’ve never looked at me with dollar signs in your eyes. You haven’t used me to climb the social ladder. If anything, I used you, in the beginning at least. With you I can be my true self. I look at you, and I see everything I didn’t know I wanted. A future that actually means something.”
“Teddy.” My throat closes up with emotion, and I hate myself for showing that vulnerability. But I know he won’t judge me for it.
He sets my laptop with the pillow on the floor, his eyes intense and full of promise. He climbs over me, and I lie back.
His mouth descends on mine, the taste of cookie on his lips from one he ate earlier. He kisses me slowly, but deeply. I feel it all the way down to my toes.
He takes his time, undressing me slowly like I’m sort of precious present. And then he hovers above me naked himself but doesn’t push inside me.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs before capturing a nipple between his teeth with a tender love bite. He licks and sucks his way to my other breast, giving it the same attention.
When he finally sinks inside me, we both exhale a long moan.
He makes love to me slowly, showing me with every movement, every kiss, that what’s between us is real. Even if neither of us has said the words, the love is undeniable.
We wake up sometime later to the incessant buzzing of Teddy’s phone.
Brr. Brr. Brr . It seems to rumble through the whole room.
“Ugh, make it stop,” I groan, peeking at the clock. “Shit it’s not even nine, and we fell asleep like that?”
“Good sex will do that to you,” Teddy says, his voice deep and rumbly as he leans over me and grabs his phone from the pocket of his jeans.
“Don’t you mean boring sex?” I don’t know why I’m trying to get a rise out of him.
He smirks at me, eyes glancing over the dozen or so love bites all over my chest and shoulders. “If it was bad you would’ve gotten up and left.”
“This is my room.”
He shows me his phone screen, that it’s his father calling and tells me to be quiet before he answers. “Dad, to what do I owe this pleasure?” His dad’s voice rumbles across the line, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. “Why would I need to go?” Teddy asks him, his lips turning down at the corners with distaste. “Mhmm, yeah. I’m not sure she can go.” He eyes me. “Required? Why?” He nods his head some, face wrinkled with displeasure. “Whatever.” He winces at something his dad says. “We’ll both be there.” A heavy sigh. “I said we’d be there. Yup. Goodnight.”
He ends the call and tosses his phone to the floor, burying his head into the crook of my neck. He lets out a groan that cuts off when he kisses my neck, and I giggle.
“What was that about?” I massage my fingers into the back of his neck.
Rolling to the side of me, he props his head up on his hand. “Just Daddy Dearest requesting both of our presence at this event in Nashville this Friday. No clue why he waited so long to say something. It sounded like he knew about it for a while. It’s black tie.”
“Black tie?”
“Formal wear.”
I bite my lip, trying to catalogue the clothes Teddy bought for me before. “I think I have a dress that’ll work.”
“If not, I’ll get you something, and don’t fight me on it. You shouldn’t have to pay for a gown just because my dad decides we need to be some place.”
“I don’t know how you’ve dealt with this lifestyle for so long.”
“It’s all I’ve known.” I detect a hint of sadness in his tone. “I know other lifestyles exist, but this is my reality.” He tilts his chin down, staring at me intently. “I want a different future for myself, for any kids I might have.”
Cupping his jaw, I pull him down into a kiss. “You’re nothing like I expected.”
He glides his big thumb over my bottom lip. “You’re not either.” Clearing his throat, he lies back down in the bed and tucks me against his chest. “Let’s go back to sleep.”
I don’t argue with that.
I smell like a mixture of grease and cheese. It’s not a good combination. Especially not when I have to be ready in two hours to head to Nashville with Teddy for the event. It’s to be held at some rich person’s estate.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” Danika’s voice is laced with concern as she watches me rush past her and into my bedroom. I have to shower the smell of The Burger Palace off me stat and then it’s hair, makeup, getting dressed—it all feels like too much.
While I double check that my dress is wrinkle free and grab my stuff for a shower, I quickly fill her in on what’s going on since I act like I’m trying to get to a fire.
“I could do your hair,” she suggests casually. “Makeup too. I don’t mind.”
My shocked eyes meet hers. “Are you serious?”
Do I sound as stupidly relieved as I feel?
She shrugs. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. It’s no biggie.”
“Trust me, it is. I owe you so much for this.”
I give her a quick hug, surprising us both, and then I’m locking myself in the bathroom.
Washing my hair and scrubbing my body until there’s no trace of restaurant smell left, I then make sure to shave every inch so I’m smooth to the touch. Rich people don’t like hair unless it’s on their heads.
Drying my body with a towel, I slip on my undergarments and pull a robe on. I don’t think there’s any point in putting on actual clothes until I have to slip into my dress.
I’ve barely set foot out of the bathroom when Danika tugs me into her room. She points for me to sit in her desk chair, and she gets to work.
I realize as she blows out my hair before rolling it with these big round curlers that she leaves in my hair that I’ve never actually been in her space before. Sure, I’ve seen it in the casual way one glimpses things passing by, but I’ve never been close enough to truly inspect things.
Her walls are plastered with posters of bands, artists, and others that seem to be of places she’s traveled to. On the ceiling she’s hung a tapestry of the moon and stars that drapes down a bit, giving a cozy effect. And like my room, she has loads of twinkle lights but where mine are white hers are a purple color giving the space a more vampy feel.
“This is cool,” I comment as she secures a roller with a bobby pin. “Your room, I mean.”
“Thanks.” I see her smile in the reflection of the round mirror she set on her desk. “It’s the first time I could really decorate to my liking. My mom has a very contemporary style, so I was never allowed to have my room the way I wanted growing up.”
I can’t help but frown. My parents aren’t perfect, but at least I was allowed to have my room the way I wanted. “That’s sucky.”
“I got over it.”
She finishes putting in the last roller and before she starts my makeup, she asks to see my dress.
“Oh my God, it’s stunning.” Her jaw drops at the silky cowl neck dress with thin straps in the most beautiful olive-green color I’ve ever seen.
“Thanks. I didn’t even pick it out for myself, but it’s exactly what I’ve chosen.”
Either Teddy did one hell of a job describing my personal style to whatever stylist pulled the wardrobe he got me, or else she was intuitive enough to guess.
“What shoes are you wearing with it?” I show her the strappy gold heels. “I have a look in mind, it’s a little daring, but I think it would be perfect. Do you trust me?”
I hesitate for only a second. “Yeah, I do.”
I’m ushered back to the chair in her room once more where she gets to work. I feel like a blank canvas as she works intently, adding things like foundation and contour and what I worry is a bit too much blush but she insists is just right. I try not to talk while she works, not wanting to distract her from whatever vision she has.
Finished with my makeup she turns the mirror away. “Hey!” I protest, trying to grab it.
“Nope, not yet. You need to see the final product all together. Let me finish your hair and get your dress on and then you can look.”
“Fine.” I pout, hoping I didn’t ruin the lipstick she applied.
Removing my hair from the rollers she brushes out my hair, teasing it in areas. I’ve never felt so glamourous in all my life and I haven’t even seen myself yet.
Danika puts down her brushes and steps away from me, clapping her hands. The girl looks absolutely giddy which isn’t a word I ever thought I’d use to describe her.
“Dress time,” she declares, spinning the desk chair around and urging me out of it.
Glancing at my phone I see that I have twenty minutes to spare. She’s finished in the nick of time. There’s a text from Teddy saying he’s on his way. No shock there. The boy is shockingly early for everything.
It’s an effort not to sneak a peek at myself in the mirror in my bedroom, but I manage to hold strong. The dress slips over my body, the silky material gliding over me like water. The dress feels expensive, and I’m glad it came without the tag because I would probably choke if I knew how much it cost. Certainly, more than my tips from The Burger Palace could handle.
“Hurry up!” Danika encourages from outside the door. “I want to see!”
“Almost!” I call back. “Putting the heels on.”
Sitting down, I slip my feet into the shoes and make sure the straps are in place. I was worried my thick calves might look like they’re suffocating, but it’s a perfect fit.
Opening the door, Danika waits right outside of it with her hands clasped beneath her chin. Her jaw drops as her eyes take me in from head to foot. “Girl, if I was a le-dolla-bean I’d be all over you right now.”
“Le-dolla-bean?” I repeat, confusion written on my face.
“It’s a Tiktok thing.” She twirls her finger through the air. “Now turn. Show me the full picture.” I spin and she claps giddily. “So hot, girl. Teddy is going to lose his ever-loving-mind when he sees you, and if he doesn’t, I’ll slap him upside his head.”
“Can I see myself now?”
“Oh! Right!” She drags me into her bedroom. “Close your eyes.” I do as she requests while she positions me in front of her full-length mirror. “Okay, open.”
I don’t have to be told twice. My eyes pop open and I gasp. “That’s me?” I blurt, marveling at how the gorgeous creature’s lips move in the mirror to match my question. “Holy shit.”
My eyes are done in varying shades of green with a hint of black, smoking out the edges. My lips are candy apple red and my face glows from whatever magic she worked. Something glimmers on my cheeks and collarbone, and she was right about the blush. It’s settled into the skin giving me a sun-kissed look and not the clown one I was worried about.
“I told you,” she says proudly.
“You did.” I touch my hair, the brown nearly black color of it looking shiny and glossy from the blowout, falling in perfectly voluptuous waves down to my breasts.
The dress is the cherry on top—hugging every curve and extenuating my best assets, aka my boobs. I turn to the side, and then the back, peeking over my shoulder.
Is my body perfect by media standards? No.
But who gives a fuck?
It’s perfect for me . I’m beautiful—in body and soul.
We’re all just skin sacks anyway. Each and every one of us. Why should we listen to what some invisible person spits out in an article? How I feel about myself shouldn’t be determined by what someone else thinks of me anyway. I’m not saying I haven’t had moments of insecurity, but I don’t do it nearly as often now that I’ve realized how others perceive me is on them and has no bearing on me or my life.
I can still be overweight and beautiful at the same time. Beauty is not synonymous with the word skinny.
“Thank you.” The words come out sounding a little choked up.
“Don’t you dare cry and ruin your makeup,” she warns me sternly, quickly passing me a tissue in case any treacherous tears leak out. “And you’re welcome.” Her smile reflects back at me in the mirror. The knock on the door signals Teddy’s arrival. “You ready?”
If I was spending the evening with only Teddy I’d reply with an enthusiastic yes, but that’s not the case.
“I have to be.”
She squeezes my shoulders. “I’ll get the door.”
I appreciate her giving me a moment to catch my breath before I have to face my … well, boyfriend .
The low murmur of Teddy’s voice is followed by Danika saying, “She’ll be out in a second.”
Inhaling a deep breath and choosing to focus on the enjoyable part of this evening— Teddy —I square my shoulders, chin held high, and step out of Danika’s room to meet him.
He smiles as soon as he sees me, that smile quickly turning to a look of lust and wonder. His eyes rake my body like a lover’s caress, eyes shining with the promise of what’s to come when he takes my dress off. My nipples harden in response, and I pray to God it’s not noticeable in my dress. From the smirk that grows on his devilish mouth I’d say luck isn’t on my side.
Bowing at the waist, he takes my hand and places a kiss on my knuckles. In a dramatic British accent, he says, “My lady, you are breathtakingly beautiful.”
I can’t stifle the giggle that escapes me. Playing along, with an even more horrid fake accent I reply with, “Why thank you, kind sir.”
Danika fake gags. “Ew, you guys are sickeningly sweet. It’s making my teeth ache. Now get out of here.” She shoos us closer to the door. “Romeo brought you flowers.” She points to a bouquet of pink peonies.
“You brought me flowers?” I beam at him.
I swear he goes red at the ears. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Mhmm,” I hum, wrapping a hand around his wrist and kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”
“We really do have to go.”
“Right. Bye, Danika!” I call over my shoulder.
I loop my arm through Teddy’s, taking careful but sure steps so I don’t trip in my heels. A few girls hanging out in the open area of the floor openly gawk as we walk by. For once, I don’t feel embarrassed. If I saw a girl leaving the dorm looking like me, I’d stop and stare too.
We’re the only ones in the elevator and Teddy immediately pushes me into the wall, a low growl rumbling in his throat when he sweeps his nose against my neck. “This sounds so fucking cliché, but you look ravishing.”
I laugh at his cheesy line, the sound cut off when he kisses me. The feel of his mouth on mine is a welcome pressure, but I know I have to stop him. I push gently at his chest.
“Don’t mess up my makeup.”
He buries his head in my neck. “How do you expect me to keep my hands off you when you’re so fucking hot?”
“I don’t know but you’re going to have to try.”
The elevator opens, and he leads me outside to a waiting black Escalade idling in front with a driver.
“You’re not driving?”
“Dad sent a car.”
“Interesting.”
We slip into the back, the doors barely closing before the driver is pulling away.
Teddy reaches down, messing with something I can’t see. He sits up holding two shot size bottles of whiskey. “Bottoms up?” I take one of the bottles from him, clinking it against his. I don’t normally drink this, but the liquid courage is necessary on a night like this. We down the shots, both wincing from the alcohol. “Burns so good.”
Sort of like heartbreak . I don’t know what gives me the thought, but I hope it’s not an omen for what’s to come.
The driver takes us to an elegant estate just past the limits of Nashville. The home is large and stately, an absolute beauty. It rivals the size of the McCallister Manor. Is it crazy to admit that I never knew such vast wealth existed in the world? I mean, obviously I know there are rich people but not this level of it.
Teddy waits for the driver to open his door, which is weird as hell—but I know it’s what’s proper. He slides smoothly out of the vehicle, straightening his tux before extending a hand back inside the vehicle for me. I slip my hand into his rough palm, allowing his fingers to close over the top of my hand.
Heart-pounding, my high-heeled feet make contact with the driveway made of some exotic material I’ve never seen before. It looks as if there are tiny seashells in it.
Gathering my breath, I smile at my date. His eyes flash with amusement.
“Nervous?”
“What gave me away?”
“You keep looking at your feet for starters,” he chuckles, squeezing my hand affectionately.
A blush blooms on my cheeks. “Sorry,” I mumble, looking around and taking in the amount of people lingering outside, ones dressed like us, as well as staff directing where we go.
“I like it when you’re flustered.”
“What exactly is all of this for?” Probably something I should’ve asked before, but I figured in these situations, the less I know beforehand, the better. It means I can’t overly stress.
“The Boudin’s,” he nods significantly at the house, “are benefactors for many charities. Tonight they’re raising money for a new pediatric cancer wing at the hospital.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
We’re directed to go into the house, where we’re then guided to an event space. I can’t imagine having so much money that I would need or even want a room like this in my house. But realistically this isn’t a house or a home. It’s meant for show.
The space is cold.
This isn’t a place where laughter echoes off the walls, or kids kick balls around, or you bond on Christmas morning. I could have all the money in the world and I would never want this .
I want warmth and kisses in the mornings and a home so full of love it’s practically bursting at the seams.
A server passes by us with a tray of champagne flutes. Teddy’s hand shoots out, grabbing glasses for each of us. I have to admit, I feel a little better having something to hold in my hand.
Teddy places his hand on my lower back, the heat of him searing me through the fabric of my dress.
“Our table is over here.” He tips his head to the left, guiding me along.
I recognize a few faces in the room, not because I know them personally but because I’ve seen them on magazines and in blockbuster movies.
I try not to openly gawk, not wanting to be that person.
Teddy stops at a table, already occupied by a few people including his parents.
“Teddy.” His mom beams, standing to kiss his cheeks. “And Vanessa.” She hugs me, which is a tad awkward with the champagne in one hand and her son refusing to let me go. Unfazed, she sits back down beside her husband who openly glares.
“You’re late.”
Teddy looks significantly around at the empty tables slowly filling in. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“I told you to be here thirty minutes ago.”
“Oh, Ed—” Mrs. McCallister tries to soothe her husband, but he’s not having it.
“When I tell you to be somewhere at a certain time, I expect you to be able to follow basic instruction, you insolent?—”
Someone clears their throat and Mr. McCallister glances up at the looming presence of a large man that has to be over six-foot-five and built like a tank. “Is everything all right here?”
Mr. McCallister flounders, muttering a string of incoherent sentences.
The unnamed man looks to Teddy and there’s a wordless exchange. “If there are any problems come find me.”
He moves off, checking on another table.
“Who’s that?” I whisper under my breath as we finally take our seats.
“The Boudin’s son.”
“He’s … intimidating but not in a mean way, if that makes sense.”
Teddy chuckles, brushing a lock of hair over my shoulder. “I call him the gentle giant.”
“You know him well.”
“We went to the same school. He was a couple grades ahead of me, but with small classes you know everyone.”
Any other questions I might have die on my tongue when someone speaks into the microphone at the front of the room, welcoming us for the evening and going over the list of events for the night, starting with dinner, and an auction, as well as other festivities.
The first course is brought out, and I do my best to remember my manners. Teddy helps me along as I still sometimes struggle to use the correct cutlery.
By the time dinner is finished I feel like a jittery mess. Luckily, a band starts playing and people clear from their tables, some to dance, others to mingle, some I’m sure are desperate for a potty break.
Teddy’s arm is on the back of my chair, his fingers lazily stroking against me.
“Dance with me?”
“What is it with you and getting me to dance?”
“I like having you in my arms.”
“How can I say no to that?”
He stands, taking my hand and tugging me up easily with him. His dad’s shrewd gaze follows us all the way to where the gathered crowd is dancing, the burn of his stare not disappearing until we’re lost in the crowd.
“Why do you like to dance so much?” Wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingers curl into his hair tugging lightly at the strands. He smirks, his jaw shadowed with stubble. I love the way he’s never perfectly shaven. Slightly unkempt, perfectly Teddy.
“Because dancing doesn’t need words. It’s all about the feel, rhythm. It’s like this secret language.”
“Unfortunately for you, I suck at it.”
“No one sucks at dancing. You just need the right partner.” He winces, watching someone over my shoulder. “Okay, maybe that guy is really bad at it.”
He spins me so I can see the man in question. A laugh bursts from me, because the guy is comically bad.
Teddy laughs with me, twirling me in another direction before we draw attention to ourselves or the unfortunate soul that makes me look like a professional dancer.
I don’t know how long we linger on the dance floor, but a sheen of sweat sticks to my skin when Teddy finally drags me to the drink bar getting us both much-needed water.
After hydrating there’s more dancing, until everyone’s called to take our seats for the auction.
In the chaos of everyone trying to find their seats again, Teddy sneaks us out of the room.
I’m aware I’m a smiley happy mess as I gaze up at him, but I don’t care. I never realized how good it would feel to not care and just exist.
“Where are we going?” I giggle. I’m not even tipsy, only drunk on the intoxicating feeling of falling, hard and fast, for the man at my side.
“There’s a garden,” he murmurs, tugging me along down the massively wide hall. He clearly knows where he’s going. His head dips, looking back at me where I hurry to keep up with his long strides in my pointy heels. His eyes are heated, glowing with a promise that sends a shiver racing down my spine. “And I need you.”
There’s no mistaking the need in which he’s referring to.
He locates the door he’s searching for, and we enter another large empty room, furniture covered with sheets. He keeps going, and then we’re bursting outside into the crisp night air. Crickets sing their nightly song, lightning bugs glowing intermittently as we pass by. He drags me through a literal maze of a garden, green growing high above our heads. Disk lights are implanted in the ground, guiding our way.
“This looks like something that belongs in Italy,” I murmur, more to myself than him. He doesn’t answer, determined to bring me deeper into the garden to ensure we’re alone.
I don’t normally think flowers have a strong scent but enveloped in so many, it’s heavenly .
There’s a bench ahead, and Teddy walks faster with renewed energy.
“Have you ever had sex in a garden?”
His question shouldn’t catch me off guard since that’s clearly been what this whole mission is about, but it does anyway. “No. Never in a public space.”
He groans in a way that I know my answer pleases him.
We reach the bench and he shucks off his tux jacket while I get rid of my shoes. “Fuck, I need to be inside you,” he growls, fumbling with his belt. I swear it looks like his hands are shaking. Belt undone, he shoves his hand in his pocket and rips open a condom foil. “Pull your dress up,” he commands, undoing his pants enough to pull his cock free and sheath himself with the condom.
I do as he asks, pulling my dress up to my thighs. He sits on the bench and grabs my hips, yanking me onto his lap. I squeal with the sudden movement, my hands landing on his shoulders for support.
His fingers skim up my inner thighs and he hisses between his teeth when he finds me bare and wet.
“You mean to tell me you haven’t been wearing panties?”
I shrug casually but my words come out breathless, betraying me. “You can’t risk panty lines in a dress like this and I loathe thongs.”
He groans, dropping his head into my chest. “You’re never wearing underwear again.”
And with that statement, he grips my bare hips and pulls me down on him.
My head falls back. “Oh my God,” I exhale at the intrusion. I feel so full.
I rock my hips against him, his fingers digging bitingly into my ass. Holding his cheeks in my hands, we’re forehead to forehead, eye to eye, breath to breath.
It’s incredibly intimate despite the location and our mostly dressed state. I’ve never felt more exposed. Like Teddy can see every bit of me. The good, the bad, the ugly— all of it . And he doesn’t look afraid. His eyes seem to say give it to me, give me every part of you
With that thought, I fall apart, shaking around him.
My muscles clench around his cock and this sets him off. He pounds into me harder, groaning through his own release.
It all happens so fast, but it’s the most powerful sex of my life.
I know that no matter what happens between us, I’ve been irrevocably changed by this moment and given a piece of myself to Teddy that I’ll never get back.
When our eyes connect, I know he feels it too, and a tiny piece of him settles in the space where I gave him a part of me.
We put ourselves back together, shooting heated looks and coy smiles as we right our clothes. Back in order, we clasp hands and reluctantly head back to the madness.
We’re outside the main room, the auction still in full swing, when I announce, “I need to go pee.”
“Oh, right.” He rubs his fingers over his forehead like he should’ve known. “Restrooms are right there.” He points me to the door. “I have to go back to the table.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I’m done.”
Slipping into the bathroom, I expect to find a normal one like in any home. Of course, this isn’t the case. Marble extends from the floors to the counters, and then up the walls. It’s laid out like a public restroom with separate stalls, and there’s even a room off of it that’s a lounge.
Shaking my head at the ostentatiousness of it, I pass by a few other attendees who stare at me funny for my open gawking and lock myself in a stall. After peeing and cleaning myself up, I straighten my dress and wash my hands. My hair is mussed from our garden tryst. I do my best to bring order to the unruly sections, feeling the tiniest bit bad that I messed up Danika’s hard work—but not too bad, because it was entirely worth it.
Mascara is smeared beneath my right eye. Using a tissue from the counter I wipe it away.
Stepping out of the restroom, I bump into someone, immediately mumbling out an apology as the person’s hand wraps around my arm to keep me from falling in my heels.
“You and I are going to talk.”
My body goes cold at the sound of Mr. McCallister’s voice. All of my happy fuzzy feelings from before are erased beneath his shrewd gaze. He yanks me into a room down the hall. It appears to be some sort of meeting space, if the long table and chairs are any indication.
“Sit.”
I do as he says, a tad scared of the what the repercussions might be if I disobey.
He pulls out the chair across from me and sits, his hands clasped on top of the table.
“Why are we in here?” I ask, hating that my voice shakes with nerves, betraying my attempt to appear composed.
His eyes narrow on me until they’re nothing but tiny slits. “To talk.”
“About what?”
“About you staying away from my son.”
I sit up straighter, holding my chin in the air in refusal to cower. “That’s not going to be possible.”
“Oh, I think it is. You will break up with him, and you will do it in a way that doesn’t show my involvement.” My heart gallops a wild beat, sweat beginning to bead on my brow. This man is intimidating regardless, but knowing he beats his own son doesn’t leave me appreciating being shut in a room with him where no one knows we are. “I’ve been suspicious of your relations from the start.” His eyes peruse my body, not in a way like he’s checking me out— ew —but as if I’m gunk caked beneath his expensive shoes. “My son doesn’t chase after women like you. He prefers models, actresses, not some overweight back-talking bitch from some stupid town called White Claw .” He sneers the name. “And before you open that wretched mouth of yours, don’t you worry missy, I’ve done my digging—my lawyers have done the digging, and don’t think we didn’t uncover the fact that my son paid off your tuition. I’m far from dumb, young lady, it’s obvious to me that something fishy is going on here. What do you have on him?”
“E-Excuse me?” His accusation has me reeling. That wasn’t what I was expecting him to say, or where I thought this rant was going.
“Do I really need to repeat myself?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
He laughs in a way that lacks any humor at all. “My son is reckless without a care in the world or a semi-coherent thought in his head.” I open my mouth, ready to protest that none of that is true and he doesn’t know Teddy at all, but he plows ahead. “For him to pay your tuition, I’m assuming you’re blackmailing him for something you witnessed that could ruin his reputation, as if it isn’t already in shambles. I’m guessing all of this,” he waves a hand to encompass my fancy get-up, “is a part of it too. Get him to pretend to be your boyfriend and all kinds of opportunities open up for you.” Pursing his lips, he leans toward me but there’s still an ocean of distance between us thanks to the size of the table. “Name your price, whatever it is I’ll pay it. The only stipulation is you are never to speak to him again.”
“I don’t want your money.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Everyone wants money.”
“I love your son.” The words burst from me before I can stop them. They’re true, but I can’t believe I’m admitting them to his father before I’ve said them to Teddy himself.
He blinks stoically at me. “Do I look like I care? Whatever farce this is ends, and it ends tonight, or I will ruin you, and my son won’t see a cent of his inheritance. He won’t look half as appealing when he’s destitute.”
“Ruin me?” This time I’m the one laughing.
“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, Ms. Hughes. I’m a powerful man. My reach extends to places you can’t even imagine. You want to work in PR? Think again. You’ll be lucky to get a job at the local McDonalds when I’m done with you.”
My chest seizes up with the realization that he won’t quit. I won’t be leaving this room until I agree to his terms. Tears build up behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won’t give this psycho the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“I don’t want your money.”
“What do you want then?”
“Can I get it in writing?”
His eyes flicker with hesitation. It takes a moment, but he says, “Yes, of course. I’ll get my lawyer on the line.” He sets his phone on the table between us when his lawyer comes on the speaker. “Now what is it you want?”
I layout my terms, we come to an agreement, and when I shake his hand it’s a done deal.
He’s oblivious of my heart, shattered at his feet.