Chapter Forty-Six
Huxley
The question slaps me. I smelled like what?
My instinct kicks in, saying that isn’t the important part. “I didn’t cheat on you.”
“What would you think if I came home from work smelling like another man?” Grace’s voice shakes with pent-up anger and frustration.
I’d lose it. Demand to know why she has another man’s scent all over her. Suspect that even if she hadn’t slept with him, she probably did something she shouldn’t have. But nothing happened with Madison. I worked, then came home. End of story. “I didn’t sleep with Madison,” I say firmly, a hint of plea in my tone, needing her to believe me. “The only woman in my life since that night at the Aylster has been you.”
Grace makes a neutral sound in her throat. “On the day when you had to rush back to the office because she interrupted our time at Sebastian Jewelry, she got a call from someone. She said to the caller that she understood expecting a child he never wanted could make things difficult and that she would take care of everything.”
Does Grace think I called Madison to say shit about her and our baby? I’m both sad and pissed off that I haven’t done enough to earn her trust and she jumped to the worst conclusion possible. “I didn’t call her after I left Sebastian Jewelry.”
“Maybe so. But she called the person ‘H.’ Like Huxley.”
“It could’ve been Harold or Henry.” I toss out two of the clients we’ve worked with, but my explanation sounds feeble, even to my own ears.
“Then she offered to send me a bottle of her perfume. Her favorite, she said. And yours, too.”
Just what the hell has Madison been doing behind my back? She doesn’t even wear perfume! “I don’t give a shit about women’s perfume, unless it’s on you.”
Grace continues as though she hasn’t heard me. “I told her it wasn’t necessary, since the scent rubs on me when you take me to bed. You should’ve seen her face.”
Under any other circumstances, I might laugh at her comeback. But I’ve been set up by the one person I never thought would betray me.
Fucking Madison.
How dare she backstab me? She’s undermined all my efforts to show Grace we could have a future together. When I spoke to her about Grace’s disapproval, she immediately apologized, acting innocent and claiming miscommunication. I believed her. I thought perhaps Grace and Madison didn’t get along due to some incompatibility in their personalities. Grace is rational and gentle, with an ability to laugh no matter how absurd and difficult her circumstances are. Meanwhile, Madison is driven, somewhat impatient and loathes imperfection or delays.
But this isn’t mere miscommunication or personality conflict. The examples Grace brings up are too specific. People who lie or exaggerate opt for generalities.
Abruptly I realize it was Madison who always responded to my talk regarding Grace’s concern with sweeping statements. My stomach sinks. Shit . How could I have not noticed sooner?
“But then you know what she said?” Grace continues. “She told me you and she could be sharing the scent the same way.”
Grace’s words are like gasoline over an already-raging fire. “That bitch. Grace, I swear—”
She raises a hand to stop me. “Maybe she couldn’t stand being goaded. She also added you never wanted me and you’ll never like me. You’ll take my baby from me and leave me with nothing just because you can. ‘Nobody crosses him and gets away with it. And you entrapping him into a marriage he never wanted? You’ve crossed the Rubicon,’ is what she said. Precisely, exactly what she said.”
I’m going to murder her. “Grace, I would never do such a thing—”
“I wasn’t sure what to believe—”
“I told you I’ll be a good father to our baby. What kind of monster deprives it of its mother? Not even mine did that!”
Grace’s blue eyes darken with old pain and anger. “I don’t know. Maybe the kind who told me not to bother him when I texted him about the OB-GYN to hear the baby’s heartbeat because he was too busy with more important things?”
“What?” I stiffen at the unfairness of her statement. “I’ve never done that. You never texted me about an appointment. I had to hear about it from that fucking Adam!” Despite my intentions, my voice rises. Even back then when I was upset with her, I wouldn’t have been so callous about the baby. Whether it was conceived in love or not, whether it was planned or not, it deserves the best I can provide.
“I can’t believe you forgot what you said.”
“ I didn’t say it . I would never say that. Grace—”
She pulls out her phone and scrolls around then gives it to me. “Read it.”
I do, and can’t believe my eyes. My phone had to have been hacked, I think, but except for the appointment response, all the other texts are ones I sent. “I don’t know what happened,” I say hoarsely. “But it wasn’t me. I promise.”
Perhaps the desperation in my plea sounds genuine to my wife. Her expression softens a bit. “You told me Madison is a good assistant and under a lot of pressure and stress. Then why is she expending so much energy on putting a wedge between us?”
All my brothers’ and cousins’ teasing that Madison has the hots for me pop into my head. As do memories of me confidently rebuffing them because I thought they were just giving me shit over nothing.
It’s true she’s been the best assistant I’ve ever had. She always knows what I want without my having to spell it out. The only real mistake she made was the paperwork snafu in London, which almost made me miss my wedding…
Or was it really a mistake?
“I didn’t get into the specifics of her argument with me at the jewelry store because I know you didn’t sleep with her, contrary to what she tried to make me believe. If you were sleeping with her, you would’ve been more careful.” Grace sighs wearily. “I’d prefer that she not work at your agency, but I also understand that you don’t want to lose a good employee who’s been with you for a long time. I can compromise and wouldn’t mind if she didn’t work so closely with you. But then you kept coming home smelling like her perfume, which started to piss me off more and more.”
Jesus. Then it hits me—why Grace asked me to shower the last several evenings. And why she asked me about what I was working on, specifically with Madison.
“I didn’t want to sound like a nagging, suspicious wife, especially when you said you’d speak to Madison about my concerns. My acting annoyingly paranoid is exactly what she would want, because that would cause cracks that might become more serious in our marriage. But I still couldn’t understand just what you were doing together during the day to come home smelling like that.” Pain fleets through her beautiful eyes. “Whether you’re sleeping with her or not isn’t important. I shouldn’t have to tolerate it. I’m your wife, Huxley.”
She looks at me, and I feel like a knife is digging into my gut. “No, you shouldn’t.” I take her hand and rest my forehead on the back of it. Gratitude, relief and fury whirl through me, one after the other. I swallow an odd lump in my throat at her generosity and forgiveness. “I’m sorry you had to bear that, and thank you for your faith in me.”
I kiss the soft skin on the back of her hand, then each of her knuckles. Then I raise my head and reach for my phone.
–Me: I need you at the auction immediately. Come to the Presidential Suite when you arrive. The concierge should give you a key.
Then I send an instruction to the IT team at the agency and ask the concierge to let my assistant up when she arrives. “Do you need anything?” I ask Grace. “Something to drink, maybe?”
She thinks for a moment. “I’m a little hungry. I haven’t really eaten anything since lunch. Maybe some pear cider and chocolate cake?”
I frown at her choice. “Shouldn’t you get something more nutritious if you haven’t had any real food since lunch?”
“If you insist that I pair my cake with celery sticks, I’m leaving you.”
Despite the tension in my gut, I chuckle. I realize no matter the circumstances or what kind of mood I’m in, Grace has the ability to make me laugh. I wouldn’t have slept with her that first time if she hadn’t been able to brighten my shitty evening with humor.
I ask for a slice of double chocolate lava cake and a couple bottles of the pear cider. When the order arrives, she takes a forkful of cake to her mouth and closes her eyes. “This is life. I almost feel human again.”
“After just one bite?”
“It’s the superpower of chocolate.”
Knocks. The door opens before I can answer, and Madison walks in, her strappy stilettos hitting the floor. Her unbound hair curls around her shoulders, her eye makeup smoky and lips cherry red. The dress she has on is cut low, but the skirt reaches two inches above her knees. Not exactly professional, but not something I can find fault with if she says she was out with friends.
She comes to a halt when she notices Grace. Then she looks at me, smiles and comes forward until she stands one and a half steps away from my side. “Good evening, Huxley. And you too, Grace. You both look very nice,” Madison says, all professional and proper.
I sniff, trying to get a whiff of her perfume, but all I can smell is soap and some generic fragrance from her cosmetics and lotion. Is my nose that insensitive? Just to be sure, I sniff again and cock my head. Grace takes another big bite of her cake, then raises her eyebrows at me and shrugs. I guess she’s not smelling it either.
Then it hits me. The perfume campaign we’ve been working on. The client sent us boxes of the new perfume to “help inspire us,” and many of the female staff used it, saying how lovely and floral it was. I personally don’t care for it that much—not my kind of fragrance—but I never said anything, since my nose became numb to it soon enough and I quit noticing.
Madison was one of the women in the office who fell in love with it, and she sprayed it around her desk more or less every day when I walked by. Was it so she could plant a seed of doubt into my wife’s heart? If Grace hadn’t had faith in me, she would’ve tormented herself thinking I was cheating on her. After all, it isn’t as though she has a better role model in life to believe otherwise.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Huxley?” Madison’s voice is smooth, but uncertainty flickers in her gaze.
“You’re terminated, effective immediately,” I state flatly. I feel the weight of my wife’s surprised gaze on my face. “Collect your things on Monday. You’re locked out of the agency network, so don’t even think about grabbing anything there.”
“What?” Madison takes a stunned step back, then stiffens. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’ve warned you more than once, but you’ve overstepped your boundaries.”
She clenches her hands. “I didn’t do anything!” She is speaking to me, but her glittering eyes are on Grace, who calmly polishes off her chocolate cake. Madison doesn’t seem to realize her reaction has betrayed her guilt.
“Didn’t you? Spraying me with your ‘favorite perfume’ isn’t your latest bullshit?”
A sickly pallor replaces the color in Madison’s face. She understands I’m too calm to be trusted. “I overheard you talking to Bryce!”
I give her a look. “Just to be clear—are you admitting to eavesdropping on a conversation with my attorney held in my office, behind closed doors?”
She flinches, obviously realizing her error. “I just wanted to understand you better so I could do a good job. Come on. We’ve known each other for so long. Longer than her.”
“It’s only because we’ve been working together for so long that you were able to fool me, undermine my marriage and hurt my wife.” I despise her for abusing my trust.
“You aren’t going to give me a chance to explain?” It’s comical how aggrieved she sounds.
“I don’t give traitors a chance to take another swing at my wife.” The possibility of Madison coming after me doesn’t bother me, but the notion that she might attack my wife? All bets are off.
Madison takes a step toward me, her arms coming up. “Huxley—”
“Come any closer and I’ll have security throw you out.”
Her already-pale face turns even more bloodless. She sways a little. I hope she doesn’t faint. She might crack her head open on the oak table behind her, and housekeeping will be annoyed if they have to get a bloodstain out of the ivory carpet.
“Get out,” I snap.
She turns to Grace beseechingly, but my wife is too busy quenching her thirst with the bubbling cider. If she weren’t pregnant, she would be chugging down a flute of Dom.
Defeat finally enters Madison’s gaze as it dawns on her there will be no mercy from Grace, either. She stumbles out, the door closing with a click behind her.
“So. She never gets to make excuses?” Grace says. “Try to tell her side of the story, so you can verify who’s being honest and who’s overreacting or whatever?”
“Trust should be repaid with trust. You trusted that I didn’t betray you with Madison despite all the signs that could have pointed to that. Also, I figured out why I smelled like the perfume and didn’t notice.”
“I’m all ears.”
I tell her about the campaign the agency is working on. “She took advantage of the situation, and I cannot forgive that.”
“You aren’t going to sue her or anything, are you?” Grace looks slightly anxious. “I just don’t want her around us, not punished excessively.”
“If she leaves quietly, I won’t do anything.” I almost wish Madison would make a fuss, but she knows me well enough to realize my next step wouldn’t just leave her jobless, but professionally ruined. I hold Grace, smell the chocolate on her breath. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Any doubts? No matter how small, I’d like to know.”
“Well.” She clears her throat, resting her head on my shoulder. “The prenup said the baby belongs to you and you only.” Her hand drops to her slightly rounded belly.
“It’s the custody arrangement in case we get divorced,” I explain, wincing inwardly and wishing I hadn’t been such a dick back then. “When I had Bryce draft it, I was so angry, I put that in there to hurt you. But now…it’s a moot point.”
She smiles. “So we’re on the same page about staying together?”
“We are. But when your mother wakes up…” I pause and try to think of an elegant way to word it, so I don’t come across as though I’m urging her to abandon her mother or withhold what her mother deserves. “Am I still part of your future?”
Grace shifts, turning around to look at me. “Of course.”
“But Montana—”
She stops me with a quick kiss. “Okay, let me tell you about Montana. I’ve held on to that same vision for forever, even before Mom became sick. She loves nature, and I always felt like she might be happier away from here. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t included in my future. I never really considered revising my idea for my life because it just felt so…automatic, almost out of reflex. I want to—”
I put a finger over her mouth, not wanting her to say anything in the moment that she’ll regret later. “You shouldn’t come up with something on the spot just to soothe my anxiety without giving it the consideration and time you need. I can’t be happy without you, but I also can’t be happy if you aren’t happy. So you take your time. I can wait.”