by Terry Towers
Another thing struck me. He seemed to be very good with her. That was certainly a surprise. Who’d have thought it? Certainly not me.
“Mommy, I have to go pee.”
It took me a moment to realize I was being spoken to. I’d been virtually ignored since we’d sat down. “What’s that sweetie?”
“I got to pee,” she said a second time, her large brown eyes staring up at me.
“Okay. Then we can go.”
“There’s a private washroom through that door,” Devon said, pointing to a closed door that I’d noticed when I entered, but hadn’t paid much attention to.
“Of course, there is,” I said under my breath.
Bitter much, a voice in the back of my head chimed in. Okay, perhaps the voice was right.
Getting up, I led Isabella over to the door and opened it. Sure enough, there was a single bathroom. “In there. Make sure to wash your hands before coming out.”
“Okay, mommy.” She disappeared inside, closing the door behind her.
“Alright. Give it to me. What’s your problem?” I spun around to see Devon leaning against the countertop which was holding the food, his arms crossed over his chest.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what is going on with you? You look a little pissed.”
“No.” I laughed, waving a hand at him, making my way back to my chair and sitting down. “No problem. Nothing at all.”
“You’re lying.” He stated sitting down in the chair next to me.
“Oh and you think you know me so well that you can tell that easily, huh? A little full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“It’s only been four days, but I’d like to think that I’m getting to know you. At the very least, I know when you’re annoyed with me over something. God only knows you’re annoyed with me enough.”
I looked over at him and sighed. Keeping my voice low as to not have Isabella inadvertently overhear, I said, “I’m concerned about the ramifications of you spending too much time with Isabella.”
“I don’t follow.” He looked genuinely perplexed. “She seems to be having a good time.”
“That’s the problem.”
He laughed. “Alright. Let me get this straight, I’m not allowed to buy her a thing or two or take her out a few times? She’s a child. Am I expected to ignore her?”
Glancing at the door, I ensured Isabella wasn’t about to emerge. “I don’t want her getting attached to you or the house or this life. This is a limited time thing. It can be confusing to a child her age.”
“Again, am I supposed to ignore her? Is that what you want?”
~*~ TT ~*~
Devon
I genuinely wasn’t sure what she expected from me. I’d be the first to admit that I had no clue about kids. Having and raising kids never really entered my scope of being. I was always way too busy. If there was hardly any time for me, then there certainly wouldn’t be time for a child or wife. I’d been coming home early because Abigail was staying with me, but normally I wouldn’t be walking into the house until late in the evening.
She had some valid points though, I’d give her that. The last thing I wanted was for that adorable little girl to be hurt in the crossfire of the game Abigail and I were playing. But she couldn’t be tucked away in a corner somewhere until the month was up.
After giving the situation some thought, I finally responded. “If you want my opinion on this - ” she opened her mouth to cut in, but I put my hand up stopping her. “I think, if you haven’t already, you need to sit down with Isabella and explain to her the situation. I’m your boss and friend and you two are staying with me for the month. Nothing more or less. She seems like a smart little girl.”
“She’s young. Impressionable.”
“But she’s also smart. If you explain to her that this isn’t forever, then I’m sure she’ll get it. It’s like having a generous uncle. And you will be walking away from this with a half a million - ”
“A full million,” she corrected.
I leaned a little closer to her, countering, “That remains to be seen.”
A confident grin spread across her lips. “I can guarantee.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
She ran a hand through her dark locks. “I’m nowhere close to falling in love with you.”
Clucking my tongue off the roof of my mouth, I was about to hit her with a remark that would skirt the line of inappropriate when I heard the sound of the toilet being flushed, followed by the running of water. Shifting back to my assigned seat, all I said in return was, “We’ll see.”
“Mommy! I washed my hands,” Isabella announced with gusto as she emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing the cutest little NY Knicks jersey over her pink dress. The jersey Abigail didn’t bitch about me buying her. She really was a charming little girl.
“Great, honey. Good remembering.”
Isabella showed her mother her wet hands, then proceeded to wipe them in her pretty dress. I forced myself not to chuckle watching the scowl form on her mother’s face and the look of confusion on Isabella’s.
“You don’t wipe your hands on your clothing, Isabella,” her mother chided.
“Why?” Isabella asked, climbing back onto the chair she’d selected between us.
“That’s what towels and paper towel are for.”
“But my hands were clean, Mommy,” she pouted, looking at the floor and swinging her feet.
Placing a hand over my mouth, I hid the chuckle I couldn’t contain any longer. As much as I wanted to win, I didn’t grow up being a loser, it occurred to me that if I lost the bet it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Would I stop my pursuit to let her win? Not on your life. But I’d be okay if I lost. A million dollars wasn’t the end of the world for me, but it would be a life changer for both of the ladies sitting next to me.
~*~ TT ~*~
“When can we do it again, Devon?” Isabella asked me as we began exiting the Gardens. The beauty about having a box was that you could wait in comfort until most of the stadium was empty before leaving, thereby avoiding the crowds. The Knicks had won, which awarded them a spot in the playoffs. Needless to say, the crowd was over-the-top enthusiastic, and I didn’t want Abigail or Isabella getting lost in the fray.
“We might be able to.” I looked over at Abigail who was smiling but wasn’t giving me an indication either way.
She ran over to me and hugged my jeaned leg. “Oh please! It was so much fun. Please! Please! Please!”
“Isabella. That’s enough.” Her mother’s voice made the little girl quit her pleading immediately, although she kept those big eyes turned up to me.
“Your mom and I will discuss it later. How’s that?”
She nodded her head, releasing my leg and taking her mother’s outstretched hand. “Okay.”
“Don’t forget the bear.”
“My bear!” Isabella dropped her mother’s hand and ran over to the bear, hugging it around the neck and attempting to carry and drag it along. With all the excitement, it seemed everyone had forgotten about it.
After watching her struggle with it a minute, I stepped forward and assisted, settling the bear under my arm, and to my surprise, she took my hand from my free arm. I froze for a moment, not sure how to react to the sign of affection.
I didn’t dare look at Abigail; no doubt she’d be scowling.
Chapter 16
Two Weeks Later
Devon
Amy was avoiding me. I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her since the confrontation at Madison Square Gardens. It was unusual since she’d normally pop up to my office to visit every couple of days, under the guise of having some form or another signed that could easily have been walked up by one of her assistants. The past couple of weeks, it had been assistants coming to see me with legal forms to sign.
I was both happy and annoyed by this.
The conversation at Madison Square Gardens needed to be finished. I had to
know how she found out about the contract. But on the other hand, I was hoping by ignoring what she’d said, it would all blow over.
Perhaps she’d realized how insane what she’d done was? I could pray for small miracles, couldn’t I?
Tonight though, I’d decided to get to the bottom of things and was waiting for the source to appear: the lawyer who’d drawn up the contract, Walter McPearson. If Amy wouldn’t get the information from me, then he was the only other person.
Walter McPearson is here to see you now, Mr. Townstead, my secretary, Kelly, said over the phone speaker.
Pressing the TALK button on my phone, I replied, “Send him in.”
A moment later, the door was opened by my secretary – correction, assistant, I suppose I should be politically correct. She was a good assistant even though, I wasn’t going to lie, when I originally hired her a lot of the reason was because she looked good. Long scarlet hair, green eyes, and legs that seemed to go on forever. I’d had more than a few comments on my hot assistant from male business associates.
“Mr. Townstead. This is unexpected. What can I do for you?”
I motioned for him to take a seat as I reclined in my brown leather swivel chair, steepling my fingers below my chin. Once he was seated, I waited a moment. I wanted him to sweat a little bit. I paid my employees top dollar. But with that pay came certain expectations, such as discretion.
Once I felt he’d waited long enough for a response, his shifting with slight nervousness in his chair was as good enough an indicator for me as anything. “The reason I’ve called you here was because of the contract I had you write up between myself and Abigail Whitney.”
“Contract?” He attempted to appear as though he didn’t remember it. Bullshit. After the fuss he’d made over drawing it up, there was no way in hell he’d have forgotten so soon.
“The contract I had you draw up on the fly. You complained to me no end about how it was questionable ethically. Ring a bell yet?”
“Oh, of course.” He coughed into his hand but refused to meet my stare.
“Here’s the problem. It has come to my attention that other eyes have seen said contract. I have a copy of it here. The only copy.” I patted the papers on top of my desk. “Or at least that’s what I thought.”
“It is. Of course it is. You were very specific how you were to have the only copy.”
“And it’s been in my safe, locked away, since she’s signed it.”
“As it should be, sir.”
“Then I’m confused how another person could tell me about its existence. Would you know anything about that?” I eyed him carefully; every twitch, every shift in gaze, I watched and evaluated with scrutiny.
He opened his mouth. He was going to lie to me, I could see it in his eyes.
Holding up a finger, I stopped him before he could ruin his career with my company. Walter had been with me a long time - almost as long as Amy - and I was trying my best to give him the benefit of the doubt. “If you lie to me or try to cover anything up, your employment with this company will come to an end. So please tread lightly.”
Walter’s body became like stone, unmoving. And then all of a sudden, he deflated. “Fine. Yes. I do know who knows of the agreement and why they know.”
Gritting my teeth, I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on the desk and waited.
He adjusted his glasses, pushing them back up on the bridge of his nose. “When you asked me to draw up such a contract, I had no idea how to do that. You were asking me to draw up something that teetered on the edge of legality. I didn’t know where to start and asked someone else on the team to assist me. I know how close you are with Amy, and I didn’t think you’d be to upset if I sought out her assistance.”
“I asked you, specifically, to write it up for a reason.”
“Yes, I understand that. However, the timetable was quite unreasonable, sir. You were very adamant it needed to be done immediately.”
“You asked Amy to draw it up with you?”
“Yes. Again, I wouldn’t have asked anyone else, I assure you. And I haven’t spoken a word of it to anyone. I’ve kept that part of the bargain. Like every other legal matter I deal with for Townstead Enterprises, it’s completely client and attorney. I swear that to you.”
The pieces all began to fall into place now. The out-of-the-blue declaration of affection from Amy. The odd way she’d been acting around me. Her showing up at Madison Square Gardens. It all made sense now.
Fuck me. Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose hoping to fend off an impending headache.
Opening my eyes, I looked back up at him. He looked fucking worried, and he should be. I was of the mind to fire his ass right then and there. But it wouldn’t do any good. What’s done was done and couldn’t be undone, so all I could do was move on and do some damage control – in other words, straighten things up with Amy.
“Were there copies made of the contract?”
“No, sir. No copies. You have the only one.”
“Are you certain of that? Did she have an opportunity to make a copy? Is that possible?”
“Anything is possible, but I doubt it. The work was done on my laptop and printed by myself from said laptop. The only one that has access to my personal files is me. She helped draw it up, but she only assisted.”
“I see.” Taking a deep breath in, I slowly released it. Looking down at my watch, I groaned inwardly. It was past six. Dinner would have been prepared and waiting for me, going cold. Or been eaten without me. Either way, Abby would be upset, or at the very least annoyed.
“Is there anything else, sir?”
Waving a hand at him, I sat back in my chair. “No. You can go.”
He nodded and stood. “I’m very sorry about all of this, Mr. Townstead. I hope this hasn’t caused a problem for you?”
I chuckled. “A little late for that.”
“Amy is a good, ethical lawyer. She’s as dedicated to you and this job as I am. The knowledge of the contract ends with us.”
“Yeah.” Nodding, I waved my hand towards the door. “Have a good night, Walter.”
Well, fuck. Now it all fell into place. At least it was contained with just the two of them. Now I just had to figure out how to handle the situation.
Abigail
The days had gone by faster than I expected, and we’d gotten ourselves into a routine. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d begun looking forward to seeing him at dinner. I wasn’t the greatest of cooks, but I tried, and he seemed to appreciate the effort; at least he never complained about the food. I took it to mean he thought the food was okay.
But there was a problem. Over the past few days, he’d begun to come home later and later. He’d missed dinnertime three days in a row, and as I finished checking on the roasted barbeque chicken I’d prepared, I feared that this would be another night he missed.
Pulling my mobile phone from my back pocket, I checked to see if there were any messages left. There hadn’t been. At least he’d had the courtesy to text me and tell me he wasn’t showing up in the past, I guess that counted for something.
“Are we eating soon, Mommy? I’m hungry,” Isabella announced coming into the kitchen.
“How was gymnastics class?” I asked ignoring the food question. She’d just arrived home. Devon’s driver was a dream, he would deliver her to the front foyer so as not to disturb me. I was seriously getting spoiled by this life. Even with a million dollars in my bank account at the end of the month, we wouldn’t be able to have a life like this again.
She shrugged. “Fine. I’m hungry.”
“How about you go upstairs and get cleaned up, including a shower, and when your done we’ll eat.”
“Is Devon home?”
“No honey, he’s not.”
Her smile faded, giving way to a frown. “Okay.”
“Maybe he’ll be home by the time you’re done,” I offered.
“Probably not. Doesn’t he like us anymore, Mommy?”
She shrugged.
“No. You made a statement. You must have a reason.”
“He doesn’t spend as much time with us anymore.”
My confusion deepened.
“He said we were going to see another game. We haven’t seen another game. He didn’t swim with me either. He promised through.”
I started thinking back. Was she right? The first week we’d been living here, he came home early almost every day. He had been doing everything within his power to win the bet. I’d gone to several events with him, much like the first event: new clothing, make-up and hair, meeting new important people and so on and so forth. He was charming, but was he really trying?
“Mommy? Are you okay?”
I peered back up at my daughter. “Of course, sweetie. I’m perfectly fine.”
He hadn’t been trying. He’d placed himself in the friendzone and that’s where he seemed to want to stay. Had he met someone else? Or maybe he just got bored of the game and was just waiting for the month to go by. If that’s the case, why didn’t he just call it quits now and get us out of his house? After the night at Madison Square Gardens, things had changed. But why?
“Everything is fine, honey.” I forced a smile for her benefit. It was a good thing he wasn’t trying. Totally a good thing. Right? That’s what I wanted. I wanted to come here, make it through, and leave with a new life. And I certainly didn’t want Isabella to be hurt in the process. So, it was good…
I don’t want him anyhow. He’s still a player. That hasn’t changed, I told myself. But did I really believe it? Even though we’d come to find a routine, I was still attracted to him. In fact, the more time we spent together in a normal everyday situation, the more attracted to him I became.