Chapter 14
Gracyn
F inally! Something to take my mind off him.
We’d like to welcome you to Bismarck Elementary .
I dance around the living room, rereading the last line of my official offer letter I received in my email. They contacted me this morning; however, the reality only hits me right now.
Who’s an adult with a big girl job now? Me!
Excitement bubbles inside me as I imagine my Pinterest-perfect classroom. Bean bags in the reading corner, each wall devoted to a different subject, vibrant bursts of color everywhere. Eek! I can’t wait to start!
After texting Charli, I pulled up Brooks’s number. My giddiness overshadows any rational thought. Because why would I text Brooks? But I do, because he is my husband.
Me: I’m officially a teacher now!
Brooks: Congrats. Can’t believe I’m married to a teacher. Never would’ve thought.
Me: Sorry to disappoint.
He doesn’t reply, but he’s not disappointed. Not after learning his mom is a teacher.
* * *
“Moooom!” I yell, walking through the front door.
“I’m in the kitchen.”
I drop my purse on the entry table and grab the letter. She looks up from her puzzle and sees me waving the letter in the air.
“What’s that?”
I read it out loud, and it still feels like I’m reading it for the first time.
“I’m so proud of you,” she says, standing and rounding the table to pull me in for a hug. “That is so exciting! Your first real job.”
I ignore her remark rather than engage in an argument about whether bartending is a legitimate job because I’m too excited. I could argue that I made more money working fewer nights a week than I will working full time as a teacher. But for her, it’s all about stability and planning for the future, as she would often remind me that bartending doesn’t offer either of those. Instead, I pull out my phone and open my Pinterest page.
“Look, I have an entire board dedicated to how I want to design my room. We need to go shopping.”
“First, I have something for you.” She walks over to her purse and pulls out an envelope. She hands it to me. “Open it. It’s your graduation present.” I’m confused because my graduation is Friday and the party is this weekend. “I’d prefer not to give this to you at your party with everyone watching.”
I slide open the envelope and pull out a check. “Mom!” I exclaim, holding a check for twenty-five thousand dollars. “I don’t?—”
She shushes me. “You were always so stubborn and independent about paying your own way through college,” she says, her eyes fixed on mine. “But we wanted to support you all along. Instead, we saved some money to give to you for a graduation present.”
I wrap my arms around her. Tears of gratitude well up in my eyes as I hug her, with a deep sense of appreciation for everything she’s done for me. “Thank you,” I murmur.
She pulls back and wipes a tear off my cheek, smiling. “I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.”
I wave off my emotions and point to my phone that is still in her hand. “Okay, enough mushy stuff. Look what your money is going to help me buy.” As she’s scrolling through my pins, a text flashes on top. When I see it’s from Brooks, I snatch it back.
Brooks: I could never be disappointed in you.
How does he always find the perfect words to make my heart flutter?
It was probably better if he had ignored it.
When my mom clears her throat, my cheeks heat as I lift my gaze. Her smile reaches her eyes as she swirls her finger in a small circle in front of my face. “Well, this is new. I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”
I turn away from her, trying to hide the giddiness by shifting my attention to a dirty spot on the counter. I scratch at it, anything to avoid her eyes.
“Is there something you forgot to tell me about your trip?”
I texted her Monday morning that I had gotten back, but between taking my last certification exam and catching up on sleep, I haven’t talked with her. I shake my head, unwilling to meet her gaze. “We’re still getting an annulment.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, skeptical.
“We are,” I insist, looking up. “We’re just … I guess you can say friends.”
She raises a brow. “I’ve never gotten that happy over one text from a friend.”
“It’s just a text.”
“You like him.” I can’t hide anything from her. She can read me like an open book. “What happened on your trip?”
I sigh as I push up on a barstool. “It was amazing. He was amazing. Everything about him is perfect. He’s attentive. Very attentive. Funny. And sexy as hell.”
My mom nods in agreement because she’s not blind or dead.
“Everything. Except he lives in New York and has a kid.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “You want a lot of kids, so don’t give me that excuse.”
Four . But I guess to a woman who only had one, that’s a lot. And she’s right. Presley is adorable, and that’s the last reason I would stay away from Brooks.
I sigh. “I’m not ready to give my life up here for a man I barely know, and he sure the hell isn’t in a position to move. It is what it is. Two shooting stars crossing each other with a flash bang only to burn off into nothing. It was exciting while it lasted.”
* * *
“No. No. No!” Ray screams, slamming his hand down on his desk. I flinch at the sharp, demanding tone of his voice. No, what? He called me to his office while I was at Mom’s, and this is what I’m met with. “Gracyn Rae, you’re killing me. Slowly killing me.”
It must be serious. We’re pulling out the middle name. “What did I do?”
“Brooks Handley?” He draws in a harsh inhale and growls through a closed mouth. My brows shoot up. I mean, I knew he wouldn’t be pleased that I was irresponsible, but he’s downright angry with me. “Of all the men on this earth, you had to choose that guy?”
That’s a little extreme.
I chose him that night.
“We’re getting our marriage annulled,” I say, hoping it’ll calm him down.
He flies out of his chair, face turning beet red as he leans his body across his desk, putting all his weight on his arms. I’ve heard stories about how ruthless my father can be, how a single glance can send you to hell, but I’ve never witnessed it firsthand. My fight-or-flight instinct tells me to get the hell out of dodge, but I’m stunned frozen in my chair.
“Married?” A string of curse words in Italian follows.
Oh. Seems his network of spies missed that important part of that night. I can see the flames in his eyes growing as he glares at me.
“There’s no need to yell at me,” I snap. If there’s one thing he taught me, it’s dealing with your problems head-on. “I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman, and I know I screwed up. But really? You’re blowing this way out of proportion. It’s not like I got knocked up and I’m stuck with the guy forever.”
He stands tall, his towering six-foot figure dominating the room. The height gene clearly skipped me. His eyes darken as he places a hand over his heart, taking a few deep breaths. Despite the rage, his expression softens. “Daughter, don’t say that out loud. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
I blink, confused. His reaction is so off the wall that I can’t process what is happening. Slowly, he transforms into the man with rock-solid control that I’ve always known. He adjusts his tie as he returns to his seat behind his desk.
“Do you know him?” I ask with hesitation.
“Do you?” he fires back.
“I know he’s a good man. And a wonderful dad. The times we’ve been together, he’s been nothing but a gentleman.”
“Trojan horse,” he mumbles under his breath as he rolls his eyes.
I throw my hands up, exasperated. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re for sure getting an annulment, correct?”
Nice deflection.
“Yes. We have a court date set for next month. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Next month? Couldn’t good ol’ Bart get you in this month? He has to be worth something.” He never misses an opportunity to throw a dig in at my stepdad.
“I got myself into this mess, so I’m not asking favors from anyone,” I assert, hoping he can discern my undertone because he’s included in that.
A bead of sweat trails down his forehead, and he grabs a tissue to wipe it off.
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on Brooks. He’s all his daughter has, and I’ll never forgive you if something happens to him.”
Sarcastic laughter fills the rooms. “That’s not an option, for reasons you’ll never understand.”
“Why are you being so cryptic?”
The phone rings, and my mouth gapes open when he answers.
Hello! We’re in the middle of a conversation.
“Hold on,” he snaps into the phone and then looks at me as if reading my mind. “Just make sure the annulment happens.”
Dismissed.
Conversation over.
I stare at the backside of his chair as he continues talking on the phone. Love you, too . My father isn’t a lovey-dovey kind of guy, but he’s always been proud of me. As I walk out of his office, the weight of his disappointment settles on my shoulders. He wasn’t even this mad when I forced his guy to quit.
As I exit the hotel, I regret agreeing to meet Charli to help her shop for a gala dress for her dad’s charity event. I mumble a hello as I pass the bellman, who recognizes me with his overly enthusiastic greeting.
Stop being a dick, Gray. It’s not that guy’s fault that your dad is incredibly annoying .
I exhale deeply, trying to shake off the bad vibes. It doesn’t work. I’m still annoyed he didn’t tell me how he knows Brooks. He makes it sound like I’m in danger, and if that’s the case, informing me would have been a wise idea. Instead, he dismissed me like I’m one of his employees.
I glance at the time on my phone. What am I going to do for an hour? I scan the familiar surroundings of the Strip. We’re meeting at the mall a couple of blocks away, so there’s no point in going home. The only place I’m drawn to is Starbucks.
The Starbucks.
The one that I’ll always remember as the reason I’m married.
A cold chai sounds perfect right now. As I stand in line, waiting, my mind spirals in all directions. Being in here makes me think of him, and then him and Ray. I should’ve pushed harder for more information. Now, I’m wondering if Brooks has a gambling problem. Or worse, he’d hired my dad to do something illegal.
A woman behind me pulls me from my ridiculous thoughts.
“You’re breaking up with me? I left my job, moved here, and now you’re leaving me?”
I blink, caught off guard. Is this some weird glimpse into my future? Is the universe telling me what would happen if I moved to New York for Brooks?
She cries into her phone, failing to keep it quiet. “ Don’t give me that bullshit line. It’s not you, it’s me. Just own up to being an asshole .”
Inside, I cheer her on. The last thing she needs is to think like she’s drawing attention, so I keep my focus on my shoes. Her sniffles are barely audible when she hangs up. She’s trying to keep it together, and it tugs at my heart.
“Ma’am, you ready?” the barista asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. My cheeks flush with embarrassment that I didn’t notice the person in front of me finished as I was too busy eavesdropping. I close the gap and place my order.
The distraught lady sets her coffee down beside mine at the condiment station as I grab a straw. I hesitate for a moment but then glance over and give a small smile. “It may not seem like it right now, but everything will work out,” I say, trying to offer some comfort, even if it’s a bit cliché.
For a split second, her lips twitch into a halfhearted smile, but then her face twists like she ate a lemon, breaking out into an ugly cry. “I don’t think it will,” she bawls.
This is what you get for opening your mouth.
Misery doesn’t always need company.
She shakes off the emotional outburst, takes a deep breath, and stirs her coffee, staring down at it. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out,” she says, lifting her head slightly. “Thank you for your kind words, though.” She grabs a napkin, dabbing it under her eyes, blinking back her tears, and then takes a sip of her drink. We scoot to the side to let a guy in, who reaches for a stir stick. “Word of advice, never move for a man,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “I would’ve followed him anywhere. And where did it get me? Alone in a new town. Thanks, Simon.” She lifts her drink in a mock toast.
Her words hit a nerve. It’s frustrating. The sacrifices women often make for love, for relationships. There is no way Brooks would entertain the thought of moving here. Not that I would ever ask him because he’s the one with a very successful career. And then there’s me, who can work anywhere. My biggest fear is ending up like this lady. Which is why I should stop with all the what-ifs.
I glance over at her, biting my lip as I debate whether to say something, but what the hell. “Hopefully, this doesn’t sound weird, but I don’t have any plans for the next hour. If you want to air it all out, I’m an excellent listener.”
“Oh god, I’d hate to do that to you. I’m sure you have much better things to do than listen to a stranger tell you all her problems.”
I shake my head, brushing off her apology with a light laugh. “I’m Gray.” I extend my hand, and she shakes it.
“Lindsey.”
“See, now we’re not strangers. Unless you have somewhere?—”
“Nope,” she snaps. “I’d love to sit and chat. Did that sound too desperate?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Not at all. Let’s have a seat back there.”
As we settle in, she dives into her story. She moved from Utah a few months ago, leaving behind a prestigious job at a large interior design firm, all for the sake of her boyfriend’s promise that they’d be engaged by the end of the year if she moved here. Considering he broke up with her over the phone minutes ago, we see how that went. Throughout our conversation, I keep quiet, letting her vent. After all, it’s her life and not mine.
She sighs, a mixture of sadness and frustration tangled in her words. “Know what’s worse? I love living here. But now, because of that jerk, I won’t be able to stay. I’ve yet to find a job, and there’s no way I can live here without any income. He told me I needed to move my stuff out by Sunday. How embarrassing it’ll be for me to move back home with my tail tucked between my legs.” Her voice cracks as tears form. “Everyone warned me.”
“I have an idea,” I say, reaching into the side pocket of my purse. My subconscious can’t help but draw comparisons, asking myself what if this was me in New York, alone? Would someone reach out and help me? I pull my phone out and hand it to her. “Give me your info. We have a family friend who owns four hotels around here with more in the works. I’m not certain if he’s hiring, but I can at least get you in touch with the person who does the interior design stuff. Put a good word in for you.”
She stares at my phone. “Why would you do that for me? You don’t even know me.”
I shrug, giving her a warm smile. “Because us women need to stick together. And I hope if I’m ever in the same spot as you, someone would be nice enough to help me.”
“Wow. That’s…” She pauses, her fingers hovering over the keys as she looks up at me, her face full of appreciation. “I doubt you’d ever be this stupid.”
She hasn’t met Brooks Handley.
I’d like to believe I wouldn’t if he asked.
But he hasn’t asked.
And if he did, I might be this stupid .
Later that night, as I’m curled up on the couch watching an episode of Chicago PD , my phone rings. If it wasn’t Charli, I wouldn’t have answered, but she is supposed to be on a date.
“Didn’t I just leave you an hour ago? And is your date that bad?” A blind date set up by her mom. She’s a better daughter than I am, agreeing to go on it.
She laughs into the phone. “He never showed up, so it’s going great.”
“Sounds like your mom picks losers, just like you.”
“You are not funny. Some of us don’t have the luxury of finding a gorgeous billionaire, snapping our fingers, and the next thing you know, we’re married.”
“You make it sound somewhat like a fairy tale. It’s not. It’s a pain in the ass.”
“From what I heard about your weekend, the only pain in your ass would’ve been from him.”
I gasp, my face heating. “Charli! We did not…” I stammer. “He didn’t…” She cracks up. I swear I’m not telling her anything ever again. “Moving on. What are you calling for?”
“Oh, yeah. There was a reason. Has Brooks said anything about Cooper?”
I was hoping to never hear his name again. “No. Why?”
There’s a brief pause. “In all my free time tonight, I figured I’d check out this Cooper asshole.” Why would she waste her time on that? “You’ll never believe this, someone found him in an alley, beaten to a pulp.”
“What?”
“They found him this morning.”
I jump up and grab my laptop. With master balancing skills, I hold the phone with my ear and type with one hand, balancing the laptop with the other as I make my way back to the couch.
“Do you think Brooks has something to do with it?”
“No!”
At least I hope not.
“Did Ray find out?”
He’s alive, so no. But he has three broken ribs, a shattered arm, a busted nose, and all his front teeth are gone. He said someone with a mask cornered him in the alley and came after him with a bat.
“Wow. Can’t say he didn’t deserve it, though,” I say, still in shock. There is zero sympathy when I think of what he’s probably done to other women. The ones who weren’t saved at the last minute. The ones who woke up the next morning, finding out that they had been raped. Yep, not going to lie, a part of me wants to high-five the guy who did this. “How would Ray have found out? I didn’t even tell my mom.”
“Well, he found out the fuck around and find out karma.”
“That he did. So, did the loser at least call you and tell you he wasn’t coming?” I click out, not wanting to focus on Cooper anymore, and go back to my news home page. A picture catches my eye at the top of the page. I pull in a sharp gasp, knowing I’ll regret clicking on it, but knowing I don’t have a choice. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh. My. God !”
“What? Is there an update? Did he die?”
“No. It’s me. I’m on the front page of Page Six .”