“Just pepperoni. It’s all they had.”
“Still sounds really good. I’m starving.”
I climb into bed, dropping my phone on the mattress and sit cross-legged facing it. Then I pick up my hand lotion off my nightstand. “Order a pizza and pick it up on your way home.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
I want to tell her to ask her husband to make something for her but I won’t reopen that can of worms. After rubbing in the lotion to my hands and forearms, I pull my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head and pick up my book, opening it to where I stuffed my bookmark.
“Stick with me, kid, I’ve got all the good ideas.”
“Especially when it comes to food. Not so much when it comes to when you’re drunk.”
I look at my phone and think for two seconds about how to respond. Rather than saying anything, I let actions speak louder than words. Just as I hear the beginning of an apology start to leak out of her rude mouth, I hit End on the phone, effectively silencing whatever she was about to say.
What is wrong with her?
My phone buzzes with a text.
Grace: I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Me: That’s the last time I hear you talk like that. Understand?
Me: It’s rude and I won’t tolerate it.
Grace: Understood. I’m sorry and I mean that. I’m so pissed about Samuel.
Me: I know you are. It’s okay to be mad. Hell, it’s okay to tell him to fuck off, or whatever you need to do. He’s in the wrong here. No matter what he tried to tell you, he is wrong.
Grace: Yeah. I agree. I don’t understand why he would do that, though?
Me: Because he’s an idiot?
Grace: Can I come over? I promise I won’t say anything else stupid. I just don’t want to go home and have to deal with him.
Me: Of course. You sure you can drive this far tonight?
Grace: I’m sure. I’m stopping for food and then I’ll be there. About an hour. Is that okay? I know you’re in bed now.
Me: You’re always welcome here, Grace. I’ll leave the front door unlocked. Just come on in and lock it behind you.
Grace: Small town living, huh?
Me: It’s the best. Drive safe. Love you.
Grace: I will. Love you right back. Thanks for letting me come over. See you soon.
True to her word, Grace shows up an hour later. She doesn’t hesitate to come into my room, find some clothes to change into in my closet, use my spare toothbrush and face wash, then climbs into bed with me.
“I’m sorry,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.
“I already told you it was forgiven. But I meant what I said, if you continue to talk down to me about this baby or Nik, you’ll find yourself out of this baby’s life, and possibly mine.”
“I like this side of you,” she says. “You’re standing up for yourself. Finally. Only took you thirty-three years.”
I don’t tell her the change is partly thanks to Nik. I’m not sure she would believe me anyway.
But I know it is, and that’s enough for me.
Nik’s changing me, and not because he didn’t like the way I was. Because I didn’t like the way I was. I’m finally discovering who I am, and that’s all thanks to Nik.
Chapter Fourteen
Nikolas
“Nik, I presume,” a woman says by way of greeting me when I get to Ashley’s house.
“You’d be correct. And you are?”
“Grace, Ashley’s sister,” she says, extending her hand.
“Ahh. The lawyer, right? Nice to meet you.” We shake hands and I hear Ashley call to me to come on in.
Grace moves aside, inviting me to sit on the couch while I wait for Ashley. She sits in the chair, a computer, coffee cup, and stack of files on the coffee table in front of her.
“I’m almost ready!” Ashley calls from somewhere in the house.
“No rush, we have plenty of time,” I call back.
Grace looks at me with narrowed eyes that she probably thinks will intimidate me, but she’s dead wrong. I raise an eyebrow in return and she smiles brightly. There’s no honesty behind her smile, though. It’s too… perfect. She’s trying too hard.
“Ashley tells me you want to get together sometime?”
I nod. “Yes. It would be good to get to know each other, right?”
She turns her head to the side and crosses her legs, sitting back in her seat. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why get to know us?”
I furrow my eyebrows. “You mean other than the fact that you’ll be my baby’s aunts and uncles? Or other than the fact that Ashley is important to me and you’re important to her?”
“Ashley is important to you? Why?”
I repeat myself from earlier, “Other than the fact that she’s the mother of my child?”
“Yes. Other than those things. That person you’re describing could be anyone.” She’s talking to me as if we’re in a courtroom and I’m on trial rather than in a living room.
“But the person isn’t anyone else. The person is Ashley. And whether Ashley fit that description or not, she’s growing more and more important to me. The only way you will believe that is by getting to know me. If you don’t care to get to know me, then you can’t judge the relationship your sister and I have. And if you don’t care to get to know me, trust me when I say that I’ll have an opinion about your relationship with my child.”
She uncrosses her legs and balls her fist on the arm of the chair. “Who do you think you are?” she demands. “You take advantage of my sister on a night that she’s heartbroken and distraught, pretend that you’re some white knight coming to save her? You pretend that you’re this perfect gentleman with such honorable intentions. I know the type of man you are, Nikolas. I’ve seen hundreds of men like you who pretend to be this upstanding citizen of your tiny town, with your minuscule business you think makes you some sort of man. And then you’ll get bored of her and leave Ashley high and dry. If that’s what your plan is, and I believe that to be true, then leave now. Don’t get her hopes up. And, by the way, I find myself a very good judge of character and I’m never wrong about people. Her family can help her figure this out.”
Figure this out. What the hell? My pulse spikes as does my anger. “Who do I think I am? Who the hell do you think you are? Making assumptions based on the fact that, what, I work with my hands for a living? You’ve obviously been checking up on me. And that’s fine because I have nothing to hide. I was married once. She and I were good friends, thought we had more than friendship between us. Turns out we were both wrong and the divorce was amicable. My parents died in a car crash eleven years ago. I have one sister. She and I are close. I own an electrical business. It started small, as all businesses do. It’s grown and is profitable. I don’t have to pretend to be anything because what you see is what you get. You are wrong in this case, and I’m not afraid to tell you so.” I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees and never take my eyes away from Grace. She might be trying to prove to me that she’s a threat, but she’s underestimating me. “As for the rest of your speech. Who says I’m not a gentleman? Who says my intentions aren’t honorable? Is it because I’m a man who doesn’t hold a degree other than from high school and the school of hard knocks? Or maybe I’m missing the bigger picture here. Maybe your attitude toward me right now has nothing to do with me specifically. It’s because I’m a man.” She raises her eyebrows in reply. It makes me think that maybe her husband hasn’t been so honorable. Or maybe it’s deeper than that. “And trust me when I tell you there was no taking advantage of anyone that night. We were both in a bad place emotionally and found each other. If you ask me, we got lucky because we did find each other. And maybe if you took the time to know me, you’d think the same. If someone with not-so-honorable intentions had been in my place that night, we don’t know what would have happened.”