Chapter Forty-Four
Grace
Pulling Huxley’s head out of his butt is much easier said than done. I was going to tell him about the garnets when he asked me about the emeralds, but his brothers and their wives were around. It would’ve been too much drama to get into it in front of them, especially since they probably have no clue about my conflict with Madison. I prefer to keep that private between me and Huxley. After all, I only want him to realize Madison’s not as innocent as she pretends, not embarrass him in front of his family.
He hasn’t brought up the emeralds again, and he acts like nothing’s wrong. I feel foolish as I stand in the ballroom with his hand at my elbow. How do I casually bring them up? After we’re home, maybe?
I can ask him to help with the necklace clasp and segue into it, mentioning Adam gave me the garnets. Huxley definitely won’t react well. Then I will—as calmly as possible—compare the way he feels to the way I’ve felt every time he’s come home with a whiff of Madison’s nauseating perfume over the last few days.
I asked him to shower each night, and he’s done so without a word. But how could he not know he smells like his assistant when she must be rubbing herself all over him or something to leave her scent on him?
The only reason I haven’t exploded already is that I trust that Huxley isn’t cheating. He not only declared I was his, but he was adamant that he was mine , too. And showed it to me in the rawest way possible.
Besides, if he were screwing Madison, he wouldn’t be dumb enough to come home without taking a shower first to erase her scent or any makeup she might’ve left on his skin. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t grate on my nerves. He’s a smart man. How can he not realize what she’s doing? Not even my verbal smackdown at Sebastian Jewelry has put a stop to her behavior. If it had, he wouldn’t have come home smelling like her perfume in her transparent attempt to sow discord.
I don’t want to come across as a nagging or whiny wife by continuing to bring up my issue with Madison when Huxley seems determined to keep his head stuck in the sand. But damn it, I am his wife—with certain rights and expectations.
After I give him the taste of what I’ve been feeling the last few days, I’ll make my case that he should get rid of Madison—or at least not work with her so closely if she’s too good to just dismiss outright. I deserve that much consideration from my husband.
Huxley goes to get me something to drink. Fortunately, I’ve made sure to have some nonalcoholic beverages at the auction.
There is a huge blue and green abstract painting to my left titled Somewhere Between Dusk and Dawn . In between the two colors is a sliver of fiery golden orange, and I love the contrast and the brush strokes that give the upper part a fluffy feel and the bottom part a rough, grassy appearance. The artist—Lynn—is the younger sister of the guitarist from the popular band Axelrod, and for some reason I thought her work would be grungy or something. I follow the wall, looking at some of her other paintings.
“You were looking at Somewhere Between Dusk and Dawn for a while. Want me to buy it for you?”
I turn around in surprise. “Adam!”
“Hey, GG. Long time no see.”
I stare at him, take in the still-friendly eyes and bright smile that are without a hint of awkwardness or resentment. Happy relief tugs at my heart. What happened on the wedding night must’ve been just a drunk aberration. It’s like the disagreement we had never happened, and he’s still my good friend. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too,” he says softly. His downcast eyes make him look shy and boyish at the same time. “So I guess I’m forgiven?”
I give him a quick hug. “I was upset. But I didn’t mean we shouldn’t be friends anymore. I’m sorry if you thought that.”
He sighs, patting my back, then lets go slowly.
“So…” I notice the well-fitted tuxedo on him. “Are you here with someone?” He’s from a middle-class family, and he doesn’t have the money to throw around at an auction like this. If he were a donor or somebody who might be invited to participate, his name would’ve been on the list I triple-checked over the last several days.
“Nope. Here on my own.” He reaches out and holds my hand, the motion deliberate and gentle, as though he’s afraid of frightening me. “I’m not poor anymore,” he blurts out. The tips of his ears turn red.
“What?”
“GG, I finally won!”
“Won what?” But as soon as the question is out of my mouth, I know.
“The lottery! Five hundred million dollars.”
I stop for a second, trying to process and figure out if he’s joking. But his expression remains sober. My jaw drops. “Are you serious ? Oh my God ! That’s amazing! I’ve never met somebody who’s won the lottery before. Congratulations!” I hug him, thrilled at his good fortune. He’s one of the nicest people in the world, and he deserves this kind of karmic reward.
“Thank you.”
“Wow.” I cover my mouth with my hands. I always thought Adam buying lottery tickets was amusing and interesting—that someone as rational as he is would spend money on something so unlikely—but he beat the odds to be one out of hundreds of millions. “Xander must be over the moon,” I say.
Adam frowns. “Xander?”
“Oh. Aren’t you guys still dating?” Then I realize I haven’t seen Xander in almost a year.
Adam looks at me like I just told him a Martian spaceship just landed in the middle of Los Angeles. “ Dating ? He’s not my boyfriend.”
“But… Remember when his ex got really weird and aggressive? You got in his face and told him to get lost because Xander was with you now.”
“Well, Xander’s gay, yeah. But I was just helping him out. His ex is a little crazy, and Xan was worried. But he and I are just good friends.” When I continue to stare, he adds, “GG, I’m not gay.”
I just blink. And my mind starts to whisper, Huxley was right, Huxley was right, Huxley was right .
A frown still on his face, Adam continues, “You only married that man because of your mother’s medical bills. Well, now I can take care of you and your mother, all that,” he says earnestly. “Everything I have will be yours.”
My heart jumps to my throat at the bright fervor in his gaze. He can’t possibly be saying what I think he’s saying—
He reaches out and takes my hand. “Divorce Huxley Lasker and marry me. I’ve always loved you, GG. You’re the only one for me.”
His proposal and declaration hit me like wrecking balls, one after another. They must’ve dislodged a gear in my head, because nothing’s turning.
“You never cared for him, did you?” Adam asks earnestly. He tightens his grip on my hand, as though to squeeze out an answer. “You shouldn’t be with a guy you can’t stand. I’ll be good to you and raise your baby like it was mine.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead, my face overheats, and I realize tears are gathering in my eyes. They’re composed of something between sorrow, regret, pain and affection. I love Adam, but it isn’t romantic love. Marrying him would be like marrying a brother. Adam is a great guy and deserves a woman who can love him and wants to make him as happy as he makes her. “I—”
“Five hundred million is a lot of money, even after taxes.” He says it faster, with more force, as though afraid of rejection and its implication on our friendship. “You’ll never lack for anything. I swear. I’ll buy you another necklace, much better than the one you’re wearing.”
“Adam.” My voice cracks as I struggle to find the right words. I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t know what to do or say. Helplessness overwhelms me, and I wish I could stop time and take a moment to think and pull myself together. “I’m so touched—”
“Five hundred million after taxes would be less than two hundred, not enough to attract a trophy wife as pretty as Grace,” cuts in Huxley’s frigid voice.
Shit . I blink away the tears and turn to him. But he isn’t looking at me. His entire focus is on Adam, his feet shoulder width apart and jaw tight. Every line in his body vibrates with barely leashed violence. Once he’s finished with Adam, he’ll deal with me.
I wanted Huxley to feel the kind of anger Madison aroused in me. But not like this. The focus needs to be about our relationship—not a proposal from a third party that pushes Huxley beyond reason.
“Maybe in your shallow world.” Adam tilts his chin, not to be cowed. “But GG values more than money in a man, and let’s face it—that’s all that you can offer.”
Huxley’s mouth twists into an ugly line. “You’ve come sniffing around my wife one too many times. I can only tolerate your insolence for so long. Do you think winning the lottery makes you somebody?” He scoffs. “You’ll always be a loser with no balls. You know deep down that you have nothing to offer Grace, which is why you bought lotto tickets . For fuck’s sake, how pathetic do you have to be?”
He suddenly grabs my necklace with both hands, pulls hard until the silver chain snaps and throws it on the floor. I gasp in shock. The red stones scatter like dull pennies.
“My wife doesn’t wear jewelry from another man. The best you can hope to offer is a cheap necklace—or another like it. No amount of money is going to change that.”
Adam turns white, then suddenly blood rushes to his face right before he lunges at Huxley, swinging his fists. Huxley shifts to evade the attack, then knees him in the belly. Gasping, Adam clutches his stomach and collapses.
“Stop it! Both of you!” I cry out, stepping closer to the two men. They aren’t just creating a scene—they’re ruining the charity auction.
Instead of quitting, Adam lunges up, swinging blindly.
“Careful!” Huxley shouts, pulling me back just in time.
Adam’s fist arcs right past my belly. My heart leaps to my throat. A billion beats a minute thunder in my head. I wrap my hands around myself protectively, fear gushing through me. My knees shake, then give out as what could’ve happened if Huxley had been even a second too slow flashes through my mind. He pulls me tight, holding me and putting his body between me and Adam to shield the baby.
“Are you all right?” Concern and fury vibrate through his taut voice.
I nod, still too jittery to speak.
“Oh my God…” Adam says unsteadily, his face turning ghostly white. “I’m so sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, get the fuck out of our lives,” Huxley grinds out.
Adam’s eyes flick to me. Maybe he’s looking for my forgiveness or reassurance. But I’m too shaken to figure out which, and I’m not okay with the way he threw the first punch at Huxley, even if my husband did taunt him. Adam is a lawyer. Surely he could’ve figured out some way to respond without resorting to violence.
When I say nothing, something in his gaze dies a little. Then he walks away, cutting through the rising murmurs around us.
Huxley holds me tighter. Then he says, “We need to talk.”