Chapter Eighteen
Grace
Monday is nobody’s favorite day, but this particular one starts out a mess with the venue for our next fundraiser event telling us there may be a problem because of an upcoming workers’ strike. I sent messages asking if they can help finding another venue for the charity art auction, but the contact hasn’t responded. That poor woman’s inbox is probably exploding with email from irate customers.
My phone has also been buzzing since the dinner with nonstop calls and texts from Karie and Viv. I blocked Viv’s number a year ago, so she started using her mom’s phone to bug me. I wish I could block Karie too, but occasionally she contacts me about Mom’s hospital bills.
“What’s wrong with that thing?” Tolyan says with a dark scowl at my vibrating phone. “Is it broken?”
“No. Just a lot of calls from people I’d rather avoid.”
“It’s annoying.”
“Sorry.” Our desks are close, and he’s probably fed up after over a week of this.
When it buzzes again, he snatches it up. “Call this number again, I’ll bury you, face first.”
“Who the fuck is this—!” Viv’s screech is so loud, I can hear it clearly from my desk.
“An assistant.”
A pause. She probably didn’t expect that. “Put my sister on the line! I know that bitch is there.”
Tolyan stares lazily into the middle distance. “Of course. Who may I say is calling?”
“Vivienne Webber! Do you know who my daddy—”
“Tofu brain.” He hangs up. “Why do you put up with this?” he asks me.
You have no idea . But he seems genuinely curious as he waits for a response. Probably nobody dares to raise their voice to him. Not unless they’re full of liquid courage.
Since I can’t tell him the truth, I paste on a smile. “Family. Can’t kill them, can’t live without them.”
“Family is like a dog that hasn’t been housebroken. Train them until they behave.” He turns back to his laptop. For the hundredth time, I wonder what it is that he does all day. He says he organizes files, but nothing stored on the cloud requires that kind of full-time attention.
My phone shakes again. An impatient sigh wells, and I reach for it, about to turn it off. The text preview on the screen stops me.
–Adam: Hey! You free for lunch?
We haven’t talked in a while, not since I messaged him that I was fine after the SportsBrews fiasco. I’ve been busy, and so has he. Huxley & Webber keeps its associates busy, determined to get its money’s worth and more.
I smile a little as I type my response.
–Me: Yeah, sure. Around noon?
–Adam: Should be fine. Meet you at Tomate? I can make a reservation.
It’s a popular Italian restaurant, specializing in pizza and pasta, about four blocks from the Pryce Family Foundation. He and I went there all the time until he started to get busy at work and Mom became sick.
–Me: Sure. See you there.
As soon as I send that, a new text pops up.
–Huxley: Can we do lunch today?
I bite my lip at the five short words. I wish I could hear his voice to gauge if he’s still upset. But regardless, I’m a little bit torn. If I hadn’t just said yes to Adam, I’d agree to meet Huxley. He’s had some time to cool off, and we need to discuss our next step.
Besides, I’m dying of curiosity and anxiety over what he’s been stewing about and what he plans to say. I know this won’t be a friendly social outing.
–Me: Sorry. I already have a date.
–Huxley: A date?
Why does it feel like he disapproves? He and I don’t have the kind of relationship where he gets to act possessive.
–Me: A LUNCH date. Just made it before you texted me. How about tomorrow at one?
–Huxley: Fine.
–Me: Okay. I’ll go to your office.
–Huxley: No need. My assistant will send details.
Viv calls again, and I turn my phone off. Nothing’s that urgent, and work calls are routed to the black phone on my desk anyway. Plus, she used up a year’s worth of my patience when she slept with Peter.
At noon, I’m at Tomate. The place is already packed, but Adam managed to score a booth. Probably flashed his killer smile—people can’t say no to that boyish grin.
He’s in a khaki-colored suit a shade darker than his hair. Probably not going to the courthouse. He prefers a black suit for that. Claims it makes him look older and more serious. The gentle slope of his jaw and shining light-green eyes knock ten years off his true age. Most think he’s “barely a kid” and too unseasoned. But if you start talking to him, it doesn’t take long to realize he’s brilliant.
“Hey,” I say, giving him a hug. “Long time no see.”
He gives me a good squeeze back. “Too much work. I swear, we live to work.”
I laugh and take a seat opposite him. “Our bosses don’t pay us to sit in the office and do nothing. And even if they did, I wouldn’t want to. I’m making a meaningful impact in people’s lives.”
The foundation has built and operated schools in parts of the world where getting an education is generally a privilege reserved for the wealthy. It gives financial and logistical support to families with children receiving cancer treatment. Tens of thousands of battered women and children come to the shelters the foundation funds to be safe. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, hundreds of thousands of turkeys and presents are handed out, so poverty won’t be the reason a family is deprived of the holidays. The minute details of making all this become a reality aren’t always fun, but the sense of pride and seeing what I can to do to help others make it all worth it in the end.
I’m blessed to have a job that not only gives me money but makes me feel fulfilled.
“So am I by making sure my clients’ asses are fully covered,” Adam jokes. “Think how I’m freeing up the courts, saving tax dollars.”
“When your lucky numbers pan out, you’ll be able to retire and be the guy who hires lawyers to CYA,” I respond dreamily. He likes to buy exactly one lottery ticket every Sunday. Says he wants to test his luck, and it’s the only hobby he can indulge in, since he never has much time.
I’m certain what little downtime he has, he wants to spend with his boyfriend. I met him last year at a deli. That poor man was harassed by an ex who refused to accept that the relationship was over, and Adam told the abuser to stay away from his boyfriend, all possessive and protective.
When the waiter comes by, I ask for a cheese pizza and ginger ale—they’re about the only things I can stomach right now. Adam orders the meat special and a Coke and gives me a look. “What’s with the plain cheese pizza?”
“Just craving it today. Change is good.” And I need a good, smooth opening to tell him about the baby. Adam will be shocked, but I hope he’ll support me. I feel guilty that I’ve been too stunned and overwhelmed to fully appreciate the life in my womb since I saw those two lines on the pregnancy tests. This baby’s conception might’ve been accidental, but my love for it isn’t.
“By the way…” Adam clears his throat and seems to grind to a conversational halt.
“What?”
“Okay, so, uh… Is it true you’re getting married?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Andreas mentioned it last week during a break. Said his granddaughter was engaged, and I thought he meant Viv, but then he said it was you.”
“Oh. Well…yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I didn’t say anything to Adam before because it felt weird to lie to my best friend after I agreed to a fake engagement with Huxley. Then since the dinner, I’ve been processing it. To be honest, I thought Huxley would’ve found a way to call it off by now. He said he didn’t want to disappoint Emma, but he doesn’t strike me as the type to go along with something that isn’t part of his plan.
Not only that, he doesn’t believe the baby is his. I’ll never forget that expression of skepticism on his face. At least once the paternity test is done, he won’t be able to hold that against me or the baby. Still, my heart is heavy because paternity alone won’t be enough to make him care for the child. Just look at Nelson.
I sigh. The entire arrangement between me and Huxley has turned into a complete mess. I should’ve given it more thought before agreeing to it. Not only did we create a baby who might be hated by its father, but I’m going to have to lie to Adam. He might feel awkward, since my situation involves all his bosses in some way or other.
Feeling like a shitty friend, I place my left hand on the table so he can see it. “I—”
Adam lets out a shaky breath. “So it’s really true?”
I nod, glancing away from him. “It sort of happened that way.”
“I didn’t even know you were dating anybody after Peter.” His voice cracks with mild rebuke. He’s probably worried that I’m on a rebound I’ll regret.
“I wasn’t. Not really. I mean… I met Huxley a while back. Like two years ago,” I say, glad and relieved I can finally offer some honest answers. “He was the guy who drove me to the ER when Mom collapsed. Then I ran into him again at SportsBrew, the night I realized Peter was cheating on me with Viv, and we just hit it off. The rest is history.” A helpless shrug. Please let this be enough of an explanation…!
Our pizzas and drinks arrive. I nibble on a slice, hoping the inquisition is over. I’d rather talk about something more exciting, like the latest legal brief he’s been working on.
Adam doesn’t touch his food. A sign that he’s upset. His mood starts to affect mine, and my appetite wanes. I put the pizza down.
“That was, like, weeks ago.” Hurt, anxiety and anger twist over his normally friendly face.
“Yeah. About…two months?” I venture a guess, then sigh. “I’m sorry, Adam. I should’ve said something.” What kind of crappy friend am I to keep him in the dark for weeks? Even if he’s been busy and I’ve been overwhelmed with everything going on, I should’ve at least texted him.
“This is way too fast. Are you sure about marrying this guy?”
“It was love at first sight.” Kind of ridiculous to claim that now, when Huxley is furious enough to maybe strangle me the next time we see each other.
“Bullshit. You aren’t like that.”
“Like what?” I laugh softly. “Worthy of love at first sight?”
“No, of course you’re worthy . You are. But you’re too rational, and you have responsibilities you take very seriously. He might’ve fallen for you at first sight, but vice versa? No way. You’d never fall for a guy you barely know, or trust him.”
“Well… I guess I trust him,” I say with a forced smile.
Adam’s eyes grow intense. “Does he love you and cherish you the way you deserve?”
I should lie and say yes, but the sincere worry in his eyes makes it stick in my throat. So I take a sip of ginger ale, trying to buy myself time.
Of course, Adam isn’t fooled. “See? You know deep inside he won’t be good to you.”
There’s no need to reach deep inside. Huxley told me how he felt.
“Are you trapped because of the baby?”
I blink. “How did you know? About the baby, I mean.” Is there anything he doesn’t know?
“Andreas mentioned he was going to be a great-grandfather soon.” Adam runs his fingers through his sandy hair. “But I still can’t imagine why you’d shackle yourself to a man you have no feelings for. You should be with someone who makes you happy.” He stares at nothing for a moment as he shakes his head slightly, then his jaw firms. “If it’s about your father giving you a hard time about the pregnancy, I’ll do it.”
Huh? “Do what?”
“Marry you. We’ve known each other for so long. If you need someone to raise the baby with, I’ll do it. I promise I’ll make you happy for the rest of our lives. I’ll be the most devoted father and husband ever.”
“Um…” I stop. What am I supposed to say to this? If he didn’t look so earnest, I might laugh, thinking he was just kidding. “Nobody’s going to believe we’re getting married. Not for real. Besides, I need a rich husband.”
His face falls. “Is it because—”
“Adam.” I can’t let him continue saying things he doesn’t mean, making promises he can’t keep, out of concern for me. Once he has time to really think things through, he’ll regret this moment, and I don’t want our friendship to be ruined just for a gesture that will ultimately turn out to be meaningless. Just knowing that somebody puts me first is amazing, but marrying me would require him to deny his true self and happiness. I care about him too much to let him do that to himself.
I paste on a bright smile. “Thank you for the offer, and I couldn’t love you more for caring so deeply about me. But you know how things have been for me and how much I need money. And now, I got my wish.” Nelson and Karie will definitely use my marriage as an excuse to quit paying for Mom’s care, claiming I have a husband to share the burden. My head already hurts at the fight that’ll happen when they realize Huxley won’t be paying. However, Adam doesn’t need to know that level of sordid detail. He’d try to help, but he doesn’t make enough, not when he has an exorbitant student loan. “On top of that, he’s young and handsome. The perfect trifecta.” I keep my voice light to reassure him.
He reaches for my hand. “But—”
Suddenly there is movement next to the table and a fork strikes down like a hawk diving for prey. Adam and I snatch our hands away. My heart jumps to my throat, pulses painfully. The three prongs, vibrating from the force, dig into the wooden table where Adam’s hand was just an instant earlier.
“Jesus, what the fuck ?” Adam says.
“Whoever you are, you don’t touch my fiancée,” comes Huxley’s steely voice.
Fury blazes in the icy depths of his eyes. He looks even more enraged than he did at the dinner. My mouth dries.
A large, warm hand wraps around my shoulder, and the subtle smoky and spicy scent envelops me as Huxley presses a firm kiss on my cheek, his eyes on Adam. “Hello, my love.”