“I don’t want your money.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Everyone wants money.”
“I love your son.” The words burst from me before I can stop them. They’re true, but I can’t believe I’m admitting them to his father before I’ve said them to Teddy himself.
He blinks stoically at me. “Do I look like I care? Whatever farce this is ends, and it ends tonight, or I will ruin you, and my son won’t see a cent of his inheritance. He won’t look half as appealing when he’s destitute.”
“Ruin me?” This time I’m the one laughing.
“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, Ms. Hughes. I’m a powerful man. My reach extends to places you can’t even imagine. You want to work in PR? Think again. You’ll be lucky to get a job at the local McDonalds when I’m done with you.”
My chest seizes up with the realization that he won’t quit. I won’t be leaving this room until I agree to his terms. Tears build up behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won’t give this psycho the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“I don’t want your money.”
“What do you want then?”
“Can I get it in writing?”
His eyes flicker with hesitation. It takes a moment, but he says, “Yes, of course. I’ll get my lawyer on the line.” He sets his phone on the table between us when his lawyer comes on the speaker. “Now what is it you want?”
I layout my terms, we come to an agreement, and when I shake his hand it’s a done deal.
He’s oblivious of my heart, shattered at his feet.
37
Teddy
I know something is wrong the second I catch Vanessa approaching the table. Her eyes are distant, refusing to meet mine as I silently beg her to look at me. Behind her my father looms and my veins turn to ice.
Vanessa takes her seat beside me, my father beside my mother.
My eyes bounce from the two of them.
“What did he say to you?”
Startled doe eyes flicker up at me for all of a second before she’s looking at the tablecloth like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. “Who?”
“I’m not stupid.” I’m whispering so no one at our table can hear me. “It’s obvious he cornered you.”
“It’s nothing.”
At least she’s not denying it.
Beneath the table I search for her hand, finding it clammy and limp. “Whatever he said, it’s not important. He’s an angry rich bastard. Don’t let him get to you.”
“I’m fine.” She forces a smile, lips barely twitching, that never reaches her eyes. Reaching up, she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. When she lowers her hand, she squeezes my knee, but the gesture does nothing to reassure me that she’s okay.
At least the night is winding down and we can head home.
There’s a fresh glass of champagne in front of Vanessa. Her hand swipes out as soon as she sees it, fingers closing around the stem, and then the liquid is down her throat.
She looks at me with a tiny bit of shame when she notices I’ve witnessed this. “I love champagne.”
“No, you don’t.”
She likes bottomless margaritas a Harvey’s and that’s about it.
“You’re right, I don’t. But it’s all I’ve got.”
“We should go somewhere and talk.” I watch my father out of the corner of my eye, but he’s not looking our way. He’s engrossed in a conversation with one of his many business associates.
“I’m fine, really. You worry too much.”
Incredulous, I scoff under my breath. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been told I worry too much. Usually, I’m scolded for not worrying enough.”
“Hmm.” Her quiet hum feels like a spear to my heart, I can sense her slipping away from me, little by little. Everything was fine in the garden, so something happened in the time between when she went to the restroom and returned. Now that I think about it, she was gone longer than I anticipated, but I didn’t think about it in the moment since I was caught up in conversation with people.
Clearly, I should’ve given it more thought. But I can’t go back in time and change it now.
The auction finally winds down and after a goodbye to my parents, Vanessa and I leave for the car.
With every passing minute I can feel her putting walls back up around herself to protect against me. I grow infuriated after how far we’ve come, that she’d do this. I finally got her to open up to me, to see that my feelings are real. I can’t go back to pretending.
She lets out a startled squeal when I pull her into a hallway for privacy, boxing her against a wall with my arms.
“You were fine in the garden, so tell me, what the fuck happened?”
She won’t look at me and I fucking hate that. Grabbing her chin, I force her to. My fingers are tight enough on her that she can’t look away, but I’m not hurting her. I would never hurt her. But even though I hold her head up, it doesn’t mean she has to look at me. Her eyes go to the ornate ceiling above us and stay there. But there’s no masking the tears in her eyes.
“I can’t do this anymore.” The words are heavy, laced with tears.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to play this game anymore, I know I owe you because of my loans, but I want out. I’ll find some other way to repay you, but I can’t do this.”
I’m fucking flabbergasted at the words coming out of her mouth. I’m hearing them, sure, but they make no sense.
“There hasn’t been a fucking deal between us since before Greece and you know it. Besides, I wanted you before that. Stop acting like all of this is make believe.”
“But isn’t it?” Now she looks at me, fire in her tear-soaked eyes. “Where can we go from here? What will we ever really be? This isn’t my life.”
“It’s not mine either!” I roar, thankful for the privacy of the hall so no one can see me lose my shit. “You know this shit isn’t me.” I lower my voice back to a normal volume. “And what are you talking about where can we go from here? We just talked about New York City. I told you what I wanted.”
“Yeah, what you wanted.” She shoves a finger into my chest. “But what about what I want?”
“I suggested that because you said that’s where you wanted to go!” I’m baffled, completely and utterly baffled, at where all of this is coming from. “You have to know I would follow you anywhere. I … I love you.”
She winces like I’ve physically slapped her, and now tears spill free from her eyes.
“I never asked for you to follow me. I never asked for any of this.”
It feels like she’s shoved her hand into my chest, between my ribcage, and grabbed my heart where it’s held between her fist.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, I want this to end … before either of us gets hurt more.”
I clench my jaw, staring at her. Long seconds tick by and neither of us says anything. I keep waiting for her to say this is a joke, but she doesn’t.