39. Chloe
thirty-nine
“Justin?” I repeat stupidly.
She shows most of her tan, round shoulders under the thin straps of her summer dress. She’s thin and fit enough that her clavicles do that little dip, but none of her other bones show, except, as I’ve already noticed, for her fantastic cheekbones. Her arms are toned and tanned, a bunch of silver bracelets on both her wrists make pretty little noises that I always associate with beautiful women.
“Hello? Are you gonna let me in?” she says.
Everything in her is leggy and long and toned. Just her belly is super round, and just at the front. It pokes out beautifully, if a bit aggressively, and I take note that she shows none of the other signs of her state. Her skin in flawless, her calves and ankles thin, her boobs generous but not spilling out of her dress. Yes, god is unfair.
“And you are?”
She eyes me, top to bottom, clearly not impressed. “I’m Gisele. His baby mama.”
The words hit me like an ice bath. “S-sorry, come again?”
She chuckles, a deep, bitter sound. “You’re funny. I had all the coming I could get a few months ago. Now I need to talk to the daddy.” She pushes by me and strolls into the pub.
My hands shake as I try to lock the door, and no air seems to fill my lungs.
She turns around several times in the empty pub, taking in, I suppose, the chairs on the tables, the lights turned off. “You guys closed?” she says, her back to me.
The entire room is spinning, while an unforgiving vise tightens around my skull. She’s having Justin’s child? That’s what she’s saying, right?
My mouth feels like sandpaper, my knees like jelly. “Um. Why don’t you sit down.” I turn over a chair from the closest table, then the other ones so she’s not sitting staring at chair legs. “Can I get you a glass of water? Juice?”
“Water’s good. Juice is full of sugar.”
Good. Movement. Something to do. Need to get Justin.
I get behind the bar and come back with her water, trying to steady my hands. “Was Justin expecting you?”
Another bitter chuckle. “No, honey, I’m expecting his child, and he’s been ghosting me.”
I clear my throat nervously. “I mean, he didn’t know you were coming today, did he?”
“You gonna be funny like that all day?”
“W-what?”
“Just get him, will ya? Please? He needs to face his responsibilities.”
I fight closing my eyes. Taking a moment to myself. “Sure, sure. I’ll go tell him you’re here,” I say, pointing to the ceiling. “Gisele, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m Chloe.” She doesn’t say anything, so I extend my hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
She looks at my extended hand like she’s unfamiliar with the custom, and finally gives me a limp shake, saying “Uh, honey. No. You’re not pleased to meet me. You’re pissed.”
Well, she got that right, but really?
“I’m not—” I start lying.
Her eyes soften. “He cheat on you a lot?”
My heart bangs hard in my ribcage. “What—what are you talking about?”
She points at her belly, then says, “How long you been together?”
I blink and start stupidly counting in my head. Then I stop. I’m not doing this. I’m not stooping this low. We haven’t been together long, Justin slept with her before me, and shit happens. I’ll be the bigger person. “Not that long,” I say.
“He’ll cheat. My bet is, he already did. More’n once. Men like him who need different pussy every week, they never get stuck on one woman. Never.”
I swallow, not knowing what to say, just trying to process.
“You work here?” she asks.
I stupidly point to the side wall. “I run the restaurant next door.” Words fall out of my mouth without my brain having a say, it seems.
She nods. “That’s how come you’re in his bed. ’Stead of some random hookup place.” She leans back in her chair and extends her legs. “Never told me he had a woman at home.” She huffs. “Men.”
“I don’t think…” I start, feeling the need to defend Justin.
“Honey, don’t beat yourself up. Us women need to stick together, yeah?”
“Stick together about what?” Justin’s voice comes from the back. In a few long strides he’s by my side, wet, messy hair, faded jeans, pulling his tight T-shirt over his pecs. He curls his arm around my waist and pulls me to him, drops a feather kiss on my temple. “Everything all right, Clo?” He hasn’t looked at the blonde yet.
Correction.
He hasn’t looked at the mother of his child yet. I tense under his touch although I don’t want to. Everything is about to change between us.
Everything already has.
Gisele stands. “Hey,” she purrs, a hand on his forearm, the one that’s not roped around me.
Justin frowns. Then his eyebrows shoot apart. “Jezebel? What are you doing here? How’d you find me?” His fingers dig into my waist, pulling me closer to him.
“It’s Gisele,” she answers with pursed lips. “And if you’d answer your phone, I wouldn’t have to interrupt…” Her hand waves between the two of us. “…whatever’s going on here.”
He snatches me even tighter to him, and I crane my neck back to take in his face as recognition hits him first, then as his eyes travel down to her belly. “What do you want?”
“Introduce you to your baby.”
I feel nauseated, my hold on him faltering as I see his gaze on her. He’s absorbed in the observation of Gisele, of her belly. He’s in shock, but there’s something more that I can’t put my finger on. Something that scares me more than I can handle.
I need to go.
“Yeah, it’s yours. You can touch it.” Gisele moves closer to him, one hand on her belly, the other extended to take his.
He recoils and steps back. “How’d you know it’s mine?”
She exhales softly, something pretty and sweet going through her eyes. Something just for Justin. “I’d been months with no man before you.” She giggles. “I mean, you remember. You even asked me how I was so… you know. In the bedroom.”
He says nothing. Doesn’t deny it.
She slides a glance my way. “You said you’d never had anyone like me.”
My heart pangs, my hands dampen.
He still doesn’t deny it.
“We had a great time, didn’t we,” she adds.
Still nothing from Justin.
My vision is blurring. “I’m gonna let you talk this out.”
Justin pulls me tighter against him. “Nothin’ to talk about without you.”
“I have that meeting with Scott. I should go get ready.”
“That right?” Justin asks.
Not really. I woke up to an email that said he’d be in the office all day, to just swing by whenever. “He emailed me last night,” I whisper. “I saw it just now.”
He does the thing where his mouth finds my head and kisses it softly. His heart is beating hard against my side.
“Where’re you staying?” he asks Gisele.
She blinks. “Um. I just got here.”
“So?” His tone is icy.
“So what,” she snaps back.
He takes a deep breath. “Here’s how it’s gonna go. We have shit to do,” his arm around me signifying he’s talking about me and him. “You go check yourself into a motel or B and B or wherever the hell you want. We’ll talk later.”
“I don’t need to check myself into no fancy place. All’s I need is my kid to have a father who cares.”
I feel Justin wince. “If I’m the father, I’ll care.”
“Oh, you’re the father. No doubt about that,” she says, looking him straight in the eye.
My head spins harder. I’m in dire need of a shower. Coffee. Something to clear my head. And normalcy. “So, can we just talk now? Get everything settled,” she adds.
“Noon. Come through the backdoor.” Justin lets go of me to go unlock the front door for Gisele.
She narrows his eyes on his back, and sadness clouds her gaze briefly before determination settles back in.
She click-clacks her way out.
Justin shuts the door on her, closes the space between us, and takes me in his arms. “I’m sorry.”
“’Bout what? It’s not your fault.”
He grunts.
“Not really,” I insist. “Stuff happens.”
He clenches his arms tighter around me. “I need to get a paternity test, stat. I’m not talking ’bout anything else ’til that’s settled.” He rocks me gently, then grunts before peeling himself off me. “Fuck. What am I going to do? This is so unfair to you.”
“Honey, we’ll figure it out,” I say with way more certainty than I feel. “This isn’t about me.” Or my feelings. It’s about Justin. About helping him navigate these first few days, then the next few weeks. Get things sorted out by the time the baby is born.
After that… oh god, but what am I going to do? You’re going to be strong, Chloe.
“You should go,” he says, tilting my fake inner peace off balance. Sensing my confusion, he narrows his gaze on me. “To see Scott.”
I’m jolted back to what I said earlier. “Oh. Yeah. It’s okay, he… he said to swing by today. Anytime. I can go later. When you meet with her.”
He lifts my chin so he can look me straight in my eyes. “I just got some fucked up news. I need you. Please?” He does look a little lost.
“Baby. Of course.”
“I’ll need you with me, Clover.” Desperation and uncertainty seep through his strangled words.
“Baby.” I run a hand on his cheek. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”
He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know about that.”
“You just need time to get used to the idea.” And I do too. Truthfully, I don’t know if I have it in me to get used to the idea. But I’m not going to tell him that.
“I can’t be a father, Clo.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll mess up.”
“All parents mess up.”
“What if I hurt it clipping its nails?”
I hold my chuckle. “It’s not a puppy, Justin. Clipping nails will be the least of your worries.”
That wasn’t the right thing to say. He looks panicked. “The least?”
“Raising a child… it’s about talking. Setting an example. Giving life tips. You’ll be great at that.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Life tips? Me?”
The idea of Justin raising another woman’s child brings bile to my mouth. I can’t be that person. “You want to drive with me to see Johnson?” The bank headquarters are about a half hour away. That would give us alone time to talk things through.
He blinks, his features set. “Nah. I’m gonna do a little thinkin’.”
We go back up to his apartment, and I slip into the shower, needing time to myself. I turn the water temperature to nearly scalding but still I shake inside, and the flowery shampoo doesn’t do its normal job of making me feel awesome and gorgeous and ready to take on the day.
I am not ready for this day or for the days ahead of me.
Sure, Justin and I haven’t been dating for a long time, so it’s not like we’re a couple or anything. But we had a good thing going.
We loved each other.
What is going to happen to us now?
And as I dry off, water keeps falling from my eyes.
Once I’m dressed and my emotions are in check, I find Justin leaning against the rooftop railing, looking at The Green, or maybe farther out, to the distant hills. I wrap my arms around him, my front to his back. “I’m leaving.”
“I want my kids to grow up here. She’s not taking him anywhere.”
I give him a squeeze and pull myself together to be the voice of reason he needs right now. “Then maybe you should calm down and be nice to her this afternoon. Also, maybe your first child will be a girl.”
“I hope not.”
What?! What’s gotten into him? “Why not?”
He turns to face me and takes my face in his hands. “I want my daughters to look like you, Clover.” He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me, hard and desperate, his hands roaming up and down my back, leaving no space between our melded bodies.
My knees are weak from his words. What is he saying? We haven’t talked about the future yet, about what we want.
Maybe this conversation just started. Or maybe it never will happen, now that—“I should go,” I breathe.
He gently runs the pads of his thumbs over my eyes, and from the look of him, I can tell he knows I’ve been crying. “I’m sorry, Clo. Really sorry.”
“It’ll be okay.”
He pulls me into him again, his heart beating so hard it bangs through my own body.
“I’m sorry,” he says again as he releases me, holding my hands as I back away from him. “Good luck with Johnson. Whatever he offers you, ask for double.”
Big fat raindrops hit my windshield the minute I leave Emerald Creek, and the limited visibility forces me to slow down. Corded ropes of water hit my car when I pass a truck on the highway. The parallels to my present situation don’t escape me, and my vision blurs as I indulge in a little self-pity. Just like this beautiful summer is marred by a brutal and unannounced storm, my new relationship with Justin is taking a turn I can’t control.
I never saw it coming.
Am I strong enough to be the person Justin needs by his side? Can I watch him raise another woman’s child? Co-parent with her?
Do I have what it takes?
I’m already jealous of her.
Visions of Tucker with the blonde blend with my overactive imagination—Justin with Gisele. Me standing on the sidelines.
Maybe I should just step aside. Fade away. Exit Justin’s life.
Our relationship is just starting, right? It’s not like we’ve built anything together yet. It would hurt, of course it would, but long term, I wouldn’t have to witness, every single day, the happiness someone else’s child brings him.
That makes me a bad person, I know it does.
But I’ve been through the pain of seeing someone I thought I was building a life with, turn to another woman. Mom thought I should be understanding. She said that people are weak, but I didn’t have the strength to forgive that.
I simply could not.
I don’t share.
I know it’s not the same situation. But whichever way I try to look at it, I can’t help but draw parallels.
Sure, I want what’s best for Justin.
It doesn’t mean it’s good for me. Or that I should build my life around that.
I’m no hero.
I stay in the bank parking lot for a minute and gather myself. As always, focusing on work will be the answer. The CEO of the local community bank asked to see me after my resounding success with the Local’s Pass. A success he must have seen the monetary result of, or he wouldn’t have asked me to come in. It’s time for me to reap those rewards.
I’m not wondering what he’s going to offer me. I know what it is. A line of credit or something like that.
And it’s bittersweet that this is happening now that the restaurant is up for sale, but that’s to my credit. And I’m proud of it. I want this meeting, even if nothing tangible ends up coming from it because of its timing.
I take a deep cleansing breath, feeling better about myself.
“We’ll finance the purchase of the restaurant,” Scott tells me. We’re sitting in his office, on the top floor of a three-story building facing the mountains. There’s a serenity emanating from this place. The photos on the walls are of ribbon cuttings of local businesses. Jovial faces of hard-working people, not smug smiles of the powerful. They’re mixed in with children’s drawings.
No trophies. No power wall.
His smile is genuine, his hands are massive. These are the hands of generations of laborers.
“That’s… that’s fantastic news. I’ll let the owners know right away. My aunt will be thrilled. She’s antsy to sell, to tell you the truth. That’ll help tremendously in finding a buyer. Thank you so—”
“We’re financing the sale to you.”
“Wh-what?” Adrenaline course through my veins.
“We’ll need a business plan, just to keep our lending department happy—our t’s crossed and our i’s dotted. We’ve already done our due diligence on you, Ms. Sullivan, and well, while your accomplishments in the corporate world are impressive and guarantees in and of themselves, we’re actually more eager to see what you have to offer in the Northeast Kingdom and surrounding counties. We need more young people like you. Entrepreneurial. With a vision. A true work ethic. A sense of community.”
They want me to buy the restaurant?“I don’t know what to say.”
“There are a couple of conditions.”
Ok, here we go.“Of course.” It can’t hurt to hear him out.
“We feel that it’s urgent that the restaurant is renovated, at least cosmetically, before foliage starts. There’s an opportunity to capitalize on the excitement of the Local’s Pass and new ownership, but this needs to happen fast.”
“I don’t think my aunt will be amenable to spending—”
“Here’s the structure we’re thinking about. Your aunt and you sign a preliminary sales agreement now, with the condition that you obtain financing. With this agreement in hand, we can move forward with your commercial loan, and you’ll have the authority to begin renovations. We’ll immediately approve a renovation loan, since we believe this will be essential to your success.”
“Wow, that’s… you really thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“It’s what we do.” He smiles and stands up. “Coffee?” he asks as he opens the door.
“Y-yeah, sure. Thank you.”
Ohmygod. They are financing me to buy the restaurant? Shit. I can’t believe it. It’s so much more than I expected.
Okay, Chloe. Think.
Whatever he offers you, ask for double.
“So! What do you say?” Scott asks me as he sets down a tray laden with coffee, sugar, creamer, and two cups. It doesn’t escape me that he didn’t ask someone to fetch it for him. Part of it was maybe him giving me time to think things through, but most of it was him just being a down-to-earth guy.
“I think I’d love to do business with you.”
Over the next hour, we hash out the big lines of their support. We talk pricing for the restaurant, look at recent comps, address interest rates, possible costs of renovations and upgrades.
And then I ask for a super generous line of credit.
He raises an eyebrow. Did I go too far?
“I like your negotiating skills, Chloe,” he says with a smile. “Send us the Preliminary Agreement, your business plan, and let’s get this deal done.”
On my way back, I call Justin to tell him the news, then Brendan, and finally Aunt Dawn.
She seems surprised at first, then happy, then concerned. “I hope your mother won’t hate me more than she does now.”
I hadn’t thought about that, and I couldn’t care less what Mom and Dad think. “Don’t worry about Mom. Besides, it’s my life, Aunt Dawn.”
“You’re right, honey.”
After I hang up, I call Justin back to ask him to put me in touch with a lawyer to draft the Preliminary Agreement.
Then I call Thalia and Lucas to ask them for an estimate on renovations.
And only then do I feel hopeful. I haven’t thought of Gisele in the past couple of hours. Life is never perfect. Maybe I can do this after all. I just need to focus on work.
That always builds me back up.
“Fuck, babe, I’m so proud of you.” Justin lifts me and swings me around in his pub—I went there straight from my appointment with Scott Johnson. “You’re going to be so fucking successful. I can’t wait. We should celebrate tonight.”
I try not to laugh, but his kisses down my neck make it impossible. “We already celebrated yesterday, and tonight we’re full. I really need to be at the restaurant. It’s our first night hosting Local Pass holders.” I brace for a rebuttal. If there’s anything I’ve learned from my Dad and from Tucker, it’s that professional success doesn’t make a woman attractive or desirable.
He nuzzles me. “We’ll celebrate, don’t you worry. I have some very specific things I want to try on you. Was keeping them for a special occasion.”
Okay, so maybe I got that wrong.
Still, Gisele’s words echo from that part in my brain where I keep the stuff that hurts. You said you’d never had anyone like me. And then it superimposes again with the image of the blonde with Tucker.
Forget how I feel about Justin’s impending fatherhood. Am I enough for him?