Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

by Gianna Gabriela

  Gigi’s already pale skin seemed to lose more color. “Wife?” she whispered.

  “That’s right,” Chelsea purred, stepping forward and dragging her hand down Max’s chest and stomach. He tensed from the contact, his muscles bunching and twitching in irritation.

  “Oh,” Gigi said quietly. “I guess I’ll just get what I need and get ready at my apartment.”

  “Gigi, wait,” he called.

  “Now, where’s that cock I’ve been missing?” Chelsea asked. With one of her long nails, she unhooked Max’s towel and let it drop to the floor. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and pulled roughly. He looked down, thankful that his dick had no intention of rising to the occasion.

  With a tight jaw, he picked up the towel and stepped away, making his way down the hall. He nudged open Gigi’s bedroom door with his bare foot. “Gigi?” He found her angrily stuffing clothes and books into her suitcase. He stepped fully into the room. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  She looked up, perhaps noticing him for the first time. Her eyes had tears in them, but beneath them was anger. It shone more brightly than her tears, and he was damn sure it would last longer than them too. “You told me your wife was dead.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “She is to me.”

  “Calling yourself a widower and actually being one are two different things,” she spat. “You’re still married.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said, wanting to wrap his arms around her and stop her from packing up her things. “She left me.”

  “How am I supposed to believe you after you lied about something so huge?” Her demand was made with a wave of her arm to indicate the other room and the shit-storm that had arrived on his doorstep.

  “I know it looks bad, but you have to believe me, Gigi. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for—”

  “Your wife and mistress to meet?” she volleyed back. She snorted, derision coating the sound. “No, I don’t suppose you did. Are you even from LA, or was that a lie too?”

  Max wanted to lash out at her, but he held his tongue. She had every right to be angry. “I am from LA.”

  “And the whole leaving in a few months thing? Was that when you had to get back to your supermodel wife?” She slammed her suitcase shut, jerking the zip halfway around before it got stuck. She began swearing under her breath, trying to get the thing shut.

  “Here, let me help you.”

  “No!” she yelled, glaring at him. “I can do this myself.” She struggled for another few minutes before she gave up completely. Tugging on the handle, the bag dropped to the floor, books and clothes spilling out the side. Gigi ignored them, dragging the bag behind her on the way to the front door. Chelsea was sitting on the couch, looking self-righteous.

  “Trouble in paradise, Max?” she asked smugly.

  He shot her a keep-the-fuck-out-of-this look and continued after Gigi. She was out the door and almost at the elevator. “Gigi, just wait.”

  She spun around, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Wait for what? More lies? More heartache?” The fight drained out of her, and her gaze fixed on something over his shoulder. In a whisper, she said, “I quit.”

  The elevator car arrived, swallowing Gigi up and making her disappear before his eyes. When he turned back, Chelsea was lounging against the doorjamb in her designer outfit and Louboutin heels.

  He felt his shoulders slump. “How did you find me?” He knew Sam hadn’t blabbed. He hoped that his mother hadn’t.

  “Evangeline,” she said. “Yes, your boss was surprised to hear that I didn’t know where my husband was.”

  He couldn’t be upset that Evangeline had sent the bitch his way; she was ignorant of the situation. “What did you tell her?”

  Chelsea stared at her false nails, pulling a face. “I broke a nail,” she pouted, holding her hand out for him to see. He arched a brow at her and crossed his arms. How had he ever been attracted to this woman? She was so vacuously clichéd. “I told her I’d been away on an extended vacation and had come home early to surprise you only to find my apartment packed up, and my husband missing.”

  Brushing past her, he walked back into his apartment and looked around. He saw Gigi everywhere in there. Goddamn Chelsea.

  “Who was the girl, Max? She was a little young for you, don’t you think?”

  “Erin’s nanny,” he replied, not biting at her other dig. He turned to her. “You remember Erin, don’t you? She’s your daughter; you know, the one you walked out on?”

  Chelsea’s haughty expression faltered, her regret peeping through. The bitch does have a heart, after all, Max thought.

  “How is she?” she asked.

  “Still alive, no thanks to you,” he snarled. He wanted to go to Erin’s room and pick her up—hold her close to him—but he didn’t want Chelsea to see her. She had given up the right to have anything to do with their daughter the second she’d decided she was going to leave.

  “Can I see her?”

  Hell-fucking-no. “Is that why you came here, why you tracked me down?”

  “I made a mistake, Max.” She was wearing her repentance like a couture gown now, but Max could see through it all. She wanted something from him. The question now was, what was it?

  “It’s too late for that, Chelsea. You made your decision. You can damn well live with it.”

  She walked towards him, her eyes fixed and hungry. She ran a hand over his bare shoulder, pulling him down so she could whisper in his ear. “I can live with the decision, but I know you can’t live without me, Max. We’re so good together; we always have been.” Her tongue darted out and ran around the shell of his ear, her lips wrapping around the lobe.

  Max gently pushed her off him and walked a few paces away. “We were good together, Chelsea—past tense.”

  Her expression flickered to annoyance. “We’re married. We have a child together.”

  “You’re right. We are married, but that can be changed. And if you take me to court to get custody of Erin, I can guarantee I’ll fight you. You would never get a judge to rule in your favor anyway. You left your then four-month-old daughter alone in the middle of the night.” Fuck, he needed to get dressed. Having this conversation in nothing but a towel didn’t really scream serious. Stalking off in the direction of his bedroom, he attempted to get dressed quickly, but his spine stiffened when he heard her move to the doorway.

  “There’s no rush to get dressed so soon, Max. It’s been a long time. I thought we could get reacquainted.”

  “Get out of my bedroom,” he snarled, not bothering to turn around. He couldn’t stand the sight of her. There was only one woman he was interested in now, and she had just run out on him. But he was determined to get her back. Chelsea reached around him, palming his cock through the towel. “What are you doing?” he bit out.

  “Making you feel good, baby.” She pressed her breasts into his back, rubbing them against him.

  “I’m not interested,” he replied. Pulling her hand away, he added, “And neither is my dick.”

  Her expression turned arctic. “You’re fucking that girl, aren’t you?” Her demand made his fingers twitch.

  “Even if I were, I don’t see how that’s any of your business. You left us, remember?”

  “And I already said that I made a mistake. I want to come back to you and Erin. I want us to be a family again.”

  Max knew he should have at least tried with Chelsea, but couldn’t think about it now. He was too angry. Dropping his towel, he stepped into a fresh pair of jeans and pulled a tee over his head. He didn’t give a fuck that Chelsea was there watching him. Brushing past her, he went to collect Erin and strapped her into her stroller. Speaking over his shoulder, he said to Chelsea, “I want you gone by the time I get back.”

  24

  Gigi kept her head down as she walked back to her and Jen’s apartment. The suitcase in tow felt heavier than it should, but she put that down to her humiliation hitching a ride with it. Ho
w could she have been so stupid? He was married? She knew she shouldn’t have gotten involved with Max, but he really was too much of a temptation for her to resist. She felt as if every person she passed knew what had just happened to her, and were judging her.

  She felt the first of her tears as she yanked her suitcase up the few steps in front of her apartment and opened up the door. The ride in the elevator was smooth and uninterrupted, the car slowing to a stop on her level. She was undecided whether she wanted Jen to be home or not. If she was, they could talk and Jen would no doubt try to cheer her up. If not, then Gigi could lick her wounds in peace.

  Opening up the door to her apartment, she looked around. The place was in the same disarray it normally was, but it was silent. She quickly walked to her room and shut the door. Propping the suitcase up against the wall, she sank onto her bed, her eyes fixing on the bright yellow ceiling.

  “I thought I heard you come in.”

  Gigi looked up to find Jen standing in the doorway.

  “What’s wrong?” her roommate asked, her expression turning serious.

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  She stepped into the room. “Bullshit. You’ve been crying.”

  Gigi swiped a hand under her eyes. “I’m fine.”

  “Again, that’s bullshit.” Jen nudged her to move over, lying down next to her on the bed.

  “Did my asshole of a boss do something to upset you?”

  “He’s not an asshole.”

  “That’s because you don’t work for him.”

  “Actually, I do… I mean, I did. I quit.”

  Jen sat up, jostling Gigi. “Really? Why? It seemed like a pretty sweet deal to me. Did he at least pay you for the days you did work?”

  She shook her head, making Jen’s frown deepen. “That douchebag. Don’t worry, Borello. I’ll make him pay up.” The idea of making Max’s life more difficult obviously appealed to Jen because she was now smiling widely.

  “Jen, please don’t.”

  “Why not? He can’t expect you to work and not pay you.”

  Gigi sighed. “Can you let me deal with this? Please?”

  Jen’s eyes narrowed. “There’s something more to this, isn’t there? Why’d you quit? Did he make a pass at you or something?”

  “Or something,” Gigi replied under her breath.

  For a few seconds, Jen was silent before she said, “He got into your panties, didn’t he?”

  Gigi looked into Jen’s blue eyes and felt the weight of her secret like it was planted directly on to her shoulders.

  “Holy fuck,” Jen breathed, looking impressed. “You have to tell me everything.”

  And Gigi did. Starting from the beginning, she told her about their first meeting, their subsequent breakfast and her moving in.

  “Just get to the good bits,” Jen urged. “Get to the part where you got to see his cock.”

  “You can be so crude sometimes. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Ha! You love it when I talk dirty to you,” Jen shot back.

  “It all started with a kiss,” Gigi said. Jen made the appropriate noises to that information. “He’d apologized to me afterwards, telling me it shouldn’t have happened, but then later on, he went down on me while I was pinned to the hallway wall.”

  “Hot,” Jen commented. “But I didn’t think you did casual anything, Borello.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t, but there’s something about Max that made me want to try. I didn’t think it was anything special for him—you know just a one-time thing—so I agreed to go on a date with Alex when he asked me.”

  “Wait!” Jen said, sitting up and crossing her legs, facing Gigi. “You went out on a date with Alex?”

  Gigi nodded. “Yeah, and I also suggested we go on another one after that since Max had called me to come home early…. What? What’s that look for?” she asked, eying Jen suspiciously.

  “Nothing, I’m just impressed. Two guys at once…I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  Gigi rolled her eyes. “Anyway, when I got home—”

  “He told you it was all a mistake and fucked you stupid?” Jen said, hopeful.

  “Not exactly. We started up again, but he had to go to work. He woke me up when he got home and we made love.”

  “It wasn’t just fucking?”

  Gigi shook her head. “We slept in the same bed. I assumed it was only sex, but he wanted me to stay with him.”

  “Is he any good?”

  Gigi could tell it was a question she had wanted to ask for a long time. “I’m not going to answer that,” she replied acidly.

  Her roommate put her hands up in the universal sign for surrender. “Okay, okay. So what happened? Why did you quit if things were going so great?”

  Gigi’s chest expanded with a deep breath. “His wife showed up.”

  It looked as if Jen’s jaw had suddenly unhinged. “Wife? Max is married? Did you know?”

  “Yes, yes, and no. He’d told me his wife had died. He never spoke about her beyond that, and I just thought he was still grieving, or he just didn’t want to share that stuff with me.”

  “What did Max say to you? Did he explain?”

  “I didn’t let him. I was too upset. I just packed my suitcase and left.”

  A buzzing came from the intercom out in the living room. Gigi looked at Jen. “If that’s him, I don’t want to see him.”

  Jen frowned for a moment then scooted off the bed. “If that’s what you want, Borello,” she said softly, disappearing out the door. Gigi draped her forearm over her face to block out the glaringly cheerful sunshine streaming through the window above her bed. Although wallowing all day was what she wanted to do, she couldn’t. She had to get to class.

  Standing up, she looked at herself in the mirror, wiping away the tears and finger-combing her hair. At least she didn’t look like she’d been crying. She quickly got changed and collected the books she needed for class. Stepping from her room, she found Jen standing at the intercom.

  “I told you already that she doesn’t want to see you.” She looked at Gigi as she spoke.

  “And I said I won’t be long. I just need to explain the situation to her.” Max sounded angry, but under that anger was desperation. “Please.”

  Jen raised her eyebrows in question. Clutching at the strap across her body, Gigi shook her head. She wasn’t ready to see Max yet; the wounds were still raw.

  “Sorry, asshole,” Jen muttered, releasing the button. She shrugged. “I doubt he’ll leave.”

  Gigi suspected as much too. “I guess I’ll have to take the rear exit then.”

  “Good thinking. I’ll try get rid of him in the meantime.”

  “Thanks, Jen. I’ll see you this afternoon?”

  “I’ll be here. I might even have a bottle of vodka with your name on it to help drown your sorrows,” she added with a mischievous grin.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Gigi said, making sure her keys were in her pocket and reaching for the door. “I’ll see you.”

  Gigi stayed in the library until it closed at eight. She had no intentions of going back to her apartment if there was a slight chance Max was still hanging around. From the texts and voicemails she’d listened to, he still was. He kept telling her to call him when she got the message. She deleted them all and turned off her phone.

  Earlier, she’d texted Jen to let her know she was staying back later than usual. Jen had replied that the vodka was in the fridge and her schedule was clear. The walk home had been a nervous one. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, her eyes scanning for Max. Although she knew he couldn’t possibly have stayed outside her apartment all day, it didn’t stop her from thinking that he just might have.

  Approaching her building, Gigi breathed a sigh of relief; Max wasn’t there. She pulled open the flap of her messenger bag and searched around for her keys. Unlocking the front door, she stepped inside and made her way up the stairs to the second floor. Before she could even get the key in the
door, Jen pulled the thing open. In her free hand was the bottle of vodka she’d promised. It looked expensive.

  With a devilish grin, Jen said, “I swiped this from work.”

  “Jen,” she groaned.

  “Hey, if Max is going to screw you over—sorry, wrong choice of words—then I’m going to return the favor.”

  “You’ll get fired if he finds out.”

  Her roommate laughed. “He won’t find out. I asked Jeremy to take one off the inventory for me.”

  Taking the opportunity to change the subject and take her own mind off Max, Gigi raised an eyebrow at Jen and smiled. “Jeremy, huh? What’s going on there?”

  Jen’s expression turned dreamy. “Nothing…yet. But give me time, Borello.” Giving Gigi a little shove in the direction of the couch, Jen added, “Now, go and get comfortable and prepare yourself to get drunk.”

  Gigi slumped onto the couch, letting the cushions swamp her body until she was being cocooned by them. All day her heart had been aching. She doubted she took in anything that her professors had told her, her mind too preoccupied with Max. How could he have lied to her like that? That fact hurt more than the betrayal.

  “Here. Drink this. You’re wearing the same expression you had on this morning.”

  She took the glass from Jen, the cubes of ice knocking together as she brought it to her lips. She cringed after she swallowed, the liquor burning her throat. She let her eyes roam around the room, but they stopped when they reached a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses.

  “Where did they come from,” she demanded, pointing at the flowers like they were carrying the Ebola virus.

  Jen peered over her shoulder. “Oh. Them. They arrived about an hour after you left.”

  Gigi could see a card sticking from the top. “They’re from Max.”

  Jen shrugged. “I didn’t read the card, but that’s what I assumed.”

  Putting her glass down, Gigi got up and plucked the card from the clear plastic arm. Sliding her finger under the edge of the flap, she opened up the envelope and pulled out the card.