Chapter Nineteen
Huxley
Women often love me for my money and my connections. So it shouldn’t be a shock to hear Grace say as much. I should appreciate that she’s being honest, albeit behind my back. After all, I promised myself to give her a chance, not absolve her for everything she’s done. Her behavior makes my path clear, and I can give her the same taste of public humiliation, helplessness and manipulation she’s heaped on me without any niggling doubts that I’m being unfair.
What I don’t appreciate is a guy sharing her table and attention. He eyes her like a stray dog desperate for a loving home. How dare he reach for her like he has the right to touch her? And how dare she let him?
I’m not a particularly religious man, but some divine entity must be looking out for me to make me crave pizza today. Otherwise, I would’ve never heard the true intentions from her own lips, and I wouldn’t have caught this…display.
I couldn’t love you more.
But you know how things have been for me and how much I need money.
Of course. How is she going to go back to budgeting and give up the joy of burning through twenty-five grand a month?
I’ve definitely been played. All because she looked at me with innocent eyes, and she and I had some amazing sex. When did I start letting my dick dictate my decisions? Disgust at myself flows through my veins like acid, followed by fury. She must’ve been laughing at me the entire time. She had to have been thrilled when she found out she was pregnant, so I couldn’t just dump her without looking like a callous asshole.
If only Emma hadn’t come to the dinner…
Even her presence there now feels like a part of a plot to put me in checkmate.
“You’re her fiancé?” Adam looks me up and down with a small sneer on his face. He’s trying to hide it, but resentment and jealousy seethe in his insolent gaze.
“Yes. Reach for her again, and you’ll lose your hand.”
“Huxley, he’s a friend,” Grace says.
Her attempt at clarification only fuels my temper. Just because they have some history doesn’t mean I have to put up with him panting after my woman. Or her declaring her love for him. “Really? Do friends look at friends like they want to fuck their brains out?”
Adam turns bright red, looking flustered and embarrassed. Guess he never had the guts to tell her how he felt. Loser.
“What are you? A medieval thug?” he demands.
I shoot him a soulless smile. “Just a man keeping a stray off his property.”
Grace gasps. “I’m not your property!” The guy gets redder.
“Grace, when a rich man acquires a pretty young wife, he’s buying an exclusive property, not to be shared with anybody else. If you don’t understand that, I can take other measures.”
“Like what? Calling it off?”
Frankly, I wish that were an option. But I’m not going to disappoint and upset Emma because of Grace’s machinations. Plus, if I must marry a Webber, Grace is the more tolerable evil. Vivienne would be worse—just as insufferable, stupid on top of it, unable to control herself even in public. Somebody like her would behave like a wild animal in private. “Like a spanking and a chastity belt.”
Grace’s jaw drops.
Adam jumps to his feet. “You asshole!” He pulls his arm back.
Anticipation and adrenaline pump through me. Go ahead. Throw the first punch.
Grace leaps between us. “ Stop it! What’s wrong with you? Both of you?”
“He can’t talk to you like that!” The volume of Adam’s voice attracts attention.
“But you can turn this conversation into a public spectacle,” I sneer.
He notices the eyes on us and compresses his lips. “Sorry,” he says to Grace.
“It’s okay, Adam.”
Her soft forgiveness stirs the dark beast of temper inside me. “ My fiancée and I are going to have a private conversation.”
“I don’t have much time,” she says. “My lunch break’s going to end soon.”
“It won’t take long if you’ll just do as I tell you without arguing.” I grind out the words. Defiance flickers in her face, and I put a finger on her mouth. “Or we can just do it here in front of everyone. Your choice.”
She pushes the finger away. “We can go now.”
“Good.” I throw a few bills on the table and give Adam a sidelong glance. “My fiancée doesn’t eat meals another man paid for.”
* * *
The 4D Agency is mostly empty—almost everyone is out for lunch. Madison’s at her desk, and she rises to her feet when I stalk toward my office. She notes my hand wrapped around Grace’s wrist, then turns her attention back to me.
“Huxley, do you need—”
“Hold my calls,” I say as I pull Grace inside my office and slam the door shut.
“What horrific bug crawled up your ass and died?” Grace demands, yanking her arm out of my grasp.
“Did you expect me to be kind and sweet when you tell another man you love him? And in public? ”
She stares at me. “He’s a friend ! Like, since forever! And he wanted to help.”
I snort. “Help himself to my fiancée, more like. No more men, Grace. I will not have you cheat on me, emotionally or physically. I want your everything. It isn’t such a high price to pay to marry into money.”
She clenches her hands, her eyes glittering. “Oh, okay. And does this little rule go both ways? I’d hate to be pitied because you can’t quit eye-fucking other women or get an STD because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”
“Obviously.” I don’t want to be another Ted Lasker. “I’m not a scheming hypocrite, unlike some people I could name.”
She glares at me like she’d love to wrap her hands around my neck and squeeze.
I continue, “You’ll behave like a proper fiancée, then a proper wife. And you’ll stay away from him. No talking or meeting.”
“Like I said already, he’s a friend. F-R-I-E-N-D. Friend.”
“Then get a new friend . A female one. That’s the least you can do for getting a rich husband .”
“Are you offering to buy me a friend?” she says sarcastically.
“I’ll ruin him first, then buy you a friend. One who doesn’t look like she’d love nothing more than bend you over the edge of a bed!”
Her face scrunches. “You’re disgusting. And for your information, Adam is gay .”
I bark out a laugh. “If he’s gay, I’m a Pomeranian.”
“I can’t believe you!” She throws her hands up. “Just because you can’t be friends with the opposite sex doesn’t mean I can’t. Not every man wants to sleep with me.”
“Then why do they look at you that way?”
“What way?” She looks genuinely confused. A damn good actress is what she is, I remind myself.
“Like they want to fuck you on the spot!” I seethe. I’m being jealous, and it’s difficult to deal with when I’ve never experienced this particular emotion before. I hate it that she comes in a package so pretty I can’t let my guard down without jeopardizing my sanity. Does she want me to acknowledge out loud how she affects me? Fuck that. Over my dead body.
Grace puts her hands on her hips. “You are so”—she hunts for a word—“de lu sional! Oh my God ! Why did I ever think—”
“I don’t care what you think, Grace. You’ll do as I say, or there will be consequences. As a matter of fact, I think it’s time you moved in with me.”
“Why? So you can keep an eye on me twenty-four seven?”
“Somebody needs to keep other men away.”
She inhales audibly. Her jaw tenses so hard, I can almost hear it creak. “Why don’t you go ahead and get me an ankle bracelet, too? It’ll go nicely with that chastity belt.”
“Great idea. Thanks for suggesting it. I’ll have Madison get on that right now.”
Her knuckles whiten. A vein throbs visibly in her neck, but the sight doesn’t give me much satisfaction. To be honest, I don’t know what would after that infuriating scene at the restaurant.
My eyes land on the prenup Bryce delivered. I throw it in her face. “If all your intentions are as pure as you claim, you won’t have any problem signing this.”
“What is it?”
“A prenup. To ensure you don’t get a penny from me.”
Disillusionment dims the light in her eyes, proving me right—she’s been after me for my money. But there’s no feeling of vindication—disillusionment of my own drips into my gut like poison. Perhaps I’ve secretly been hoping that Sebastian was right and she wasn’t just another mercenary bitch.
“Are you going to require me to pay rent? Utilities?” Her voice couldn’t be flatter.
“No. That would be ridiculous. Besides, you can’t afford it.” Annoying . It’s like she somehow knows that I thought about charging her before deciding it was beneath me.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she glares at me. I notice how pretty her breasts look—recall how responsive they were that night—and I want to strangle myself. Finally, she grabs a pen from my desk and scrawls her name on the contract. “There. Satisfied?”
Not even a little. I don’t know what will ever make me satisfied again. I hate her for disrupting my orderly and well-planned life. “Would’ve been more satisfied if I could have remained a bachelor—”
A commotion erupts from outside. Madison’s raised voice comes through the closed door, although the words are unintelligible. Suddenly the door crashes open.
“When I say hold my calls, it means no interruptions!” I turn, ready to eviscerate the intruder.
It’s Karie. Madison, breathing hard and with a few strands out of place from her normally impeccable updo, is holding her arm and trying to pull her back. Karie, meanwhile, tries to bat Madison’s hands away.
“Get your paws off me!” Karie says, struggling to escape. “Do you know how much this dress cost?”
“A poor man’s kidney?” Grace says under her breath.
I bite my lip to hide a sudden grin at the unexpected sass. It’s irritating that her unexpected sense of humor continues to amuse me. “It’s fine, Madison. Let her go.”
Madison does so and takes a couple of steps back to let me deal with the problem.
I put on one of my least welcoming faces. “What the hell is going on?”
“Mrs. Webber showed up without an appointment and insisted on seeing you.” Madison sounds calm, like she hasn’t had a minor scuffle.
“Why would I need an appointment?” Karie turns to me. “Tell your help that I’m your mother-in-law!”
Grace looks away, closing her eyes in embarrassment. My jaw grows tight. “You’re not. What do you want? You have ten seconds.”
Karie huffs. “I’ve been trying to reach you and Grace, but couldn’t.”
“I blocked you.” I wanted to do more, but the other measures I was contemplating are illegal. “Five seconds.”
Her smug smile falters, but she recovers. “I want to be in charge of the wedding, but Catalina says there are plenty of wedding planners in the city. It’s ludicrous! Tell her that you want me to do it. I’m entitled to the honor.”
The honor? This woman didn’t show an iota of kindness or warmth toward Grace at the dinner. Although she tried to hide it, she was angry, like somebody reached into her closet and absconded with her favorite Hermes handbag. Grandmother probably rejected her offer because Karie’s likely to botch the job, either through incompetence or out of sheer spite. If she’s anything like her biological daughter, she’s petty and nasty enough to do just that.
“I agree with my grandmother.” I let my gaze rake over the dress she seems to love so much. “I’m not letting a woman with the taste of a back-alley whore take charge of my wedding.”
The makeup can’t hide the flush creeping up her neck. “How dare you talk to me like that?”
“Easily. I open my mouth and form the words.”
Grace lets out a choked sound, then covers her mouth.
Karie’s chest is now heaving with rage. “I am the mother of the bride !”
“In what way? Grace didn’t pop out of your vagina. You didn’t raise her. And I can’t give you credit for being a good mother based on how Mick and Viv turned out.”
Her mouth opens and closes a few times. It happens when you get hit in the solar plexus with the truth.
“Then who’s going to plan the wedding? Her? ” She points a manicured finger at Grace.
“No, Grace is busy with her career,” I say.
“What career? Making coffee for her boss?”
“You wouldn’t understand, since the only thing you’ve done in your life is spend other people’s money.”
Karie is speechless. Her silence is truly golden.
I continue, “Thankfully, I have Madison, who always knows exactly what I want. Now that we’re clear on the matter—and your ten seconds have long since expired—get the fuck out of my office. Or I’ll have security toss you out on your bony ass.”