by Tiana Cole
“I did not bribe Nick, mama,” Bastian interjected, putting my mind at ease. “We have equal share in the firm, and Jessica's promotion was a joint decision. She deserved it.”
The rest of dinner was painfully awkward, and I couldn't wait for it to be over. Agatha insisted that she help me clean the table, and that Bastian should go rest for work the following day. He did as told, heading into the living room to watch TV while we straightened up.
“Bastian told me you've taken the day off from work tomorrow to keep me company,” Agatha said as she stood beside me washing the dishes and handing them to me to dry and put away.
“Yes, that's right. We can do whatever you like. When was the last time you've been to New York?” I asked, trying to remain as cordial as possible.
“Many years ago,” she sighed. “I don't favor the city, especially in the winter. I much prefer the climate in Greece. Usually Bastian comes to visit me,” she replied, and I wondered why she put emphasis on that.
“Well, maybe next time we can visit you instead of you coming all the way here,” I offered nicely and flashed her a warm smile.
“Why would you have to come?” she snorted without humor. “It's not like you have a real marriage with my son,” she scoffed. I felt a pang of hurt at her words, even if her tone was calm and almost conversational. I chose not to attempt conversation again, and finished cleaning quietly before wishing her a curt goodnight.
“Hey…how did it go?” Bastian asked after following me upstairs to our room.
“I'm pretty sure she hates me because we're not in a 'real' marriage,” I replied, exhaling deeply in exasperation. “I don't see tomorrow going well.”
Bastian rounded the bed to hold me tightly. I didn't know exactly when it had started, but I'd somehow come to feel safe in his strong arms. He could make everything better with his warm embrace, and I adored him for that.
“Don't you worry, pretty girl,” he murmured soothingly. “I don't think she'll be staying long. A day or two at the most. She just wanted to sniff you out, so to speak.”
“You were totally right about her. I'm sorry I didn't believe you.”
“Yes, well, I can be right about some things, too,” he chuckled, and I couldn't help but giggle. We went to bed early since Bastian had to appear in court at 7:30 am the next day. Exhausted from her long journey, Bastian's mother also headed to bed early and I was relieved I didn't have to spend any more time with her that night. The next day would be a different story, however, and I definitely wasn't looking forward to it. At this point, I knew the chances of us bonding were slim to none.
Morning arrived quickly, and I woke up cold as Bastian had already left. I was now faced with a day likely filled with verbal torture from his mother, and I groaned as I rolled out of bed. There was no pep to my stride as I showered and dressed for the long day ahead. I made my way downstairs with the intent of having coffee, then remembered I was pregnant and that caffeine was off limits. I settled for orange juice and half a bagel, promising to start my nutrition plan after Bastian's mother left. There was no way I could start the program and actually stick with it under the stress of her visit.
“Good morning, Jessica,” Agatha's voice came from behind me as I sat at the breakfast bar. I turned my head and smiled at her politely.
“Good morning. Would you like me to make you some breakfast?” I offered. “Or we could go out to a good diner I know of?”
“Of course you would suggest we go out to eat,” she replied with one short, derisive laugh. “What are you going to do when you have a child? Feed him McDonald's every day?” she rudely asked.
I was shocked that someone could be so mean at only nine o'clock in the morning, but bit my tongue and held my smile.
“Of course not, but you're visiting and I figured you might like to go out. If not, we have bacon, eggs, toast, bagels, fruit, sausage…” I continued rattling off a few breakfast items I knew we had in the house while she looked at me in annoyance.
“I will take toast, lightly buttered, with eggs, however you make them, and some fruit, please,” she said, then sat primly at the breakfast bar.
“Great, I'll get right on that,” I mumbled, and rose from my seat to fix her breakfast. I was finishing her eggs when she finally broke the tense silence that had fallen over the kitchen.
“One thing I do like about this city is the many museums it has. I would like to visit the Met today.”
I'd just finished fixing her plate and turned to set it in front of her with some utensils.
“That sounds great,” I nodded. “We can go after you've finished. What would you like to drink?” I asked. She pointed to my half-empty glass of orange juice without speaking as she inspected her plate. I rolled my eyes, not caring if she saw or not, and slid it across the counter to her.
“No, not yours,” she barked, looking at my glass as if it were diseased. “My own.”
“Okay, s-s-sorry,” I stammered. I grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and poured her a glass, hoping she wouldn't notice my trembling hands. I quickly cleaned my dishes while debating whether or not I should stay to make conversation with her. Reflecting on how that had been working out so far, I chose to excuse myself from the kitchen and rushed upstairs to call my brother who answered after only one ring. Thankfully, I managed to catch him before he had left for work.
“Hey, sis! Was just on my way out the door. What's up?” he answered hurriedly.
“How do you do it? How do you get along with Tasha's parents?” I sighed.
“I'm guessing Bastian's mom is in town?” Jay asked with humor in his voice.
“It's not funny. She's…vicious. I have never met a human being quite like her before,” I grumbled.
“Well, if you think about it, it makes sense,” Jay laughed. “Bastian was a 'kraken,' as you put it, before you set him straight. That shitty attitude had to come from someone.”
“You're right,” I groaned. “I should have seen this coming. I just…she's just…she's on an entirely different level! It's so frustrating.”
“I can imagine. Look, just nod your head and ignore most of it. It's not like she's staying forever, right? Really, it doesn't matter if she likes you or not. Bastian loves you, and that's all that matters. Just deal with her for him,” Jay replied, trying to put everything into perspective for me. What he didn't know, however, was that Bastian's love for me was a big question mark. I didn't know how he felt about me, but I couldn't tell my brother that.
Jay couldn't be late for his meeting with a client so our call was rather short. I returned to the kitchen and found Agatha still at the breakfast bar, picking at her plate of food that was still mostly full.
“I think I'm done. We can leave now,” she said flatly. Then, very deliberately, she rose from her seat and scraped the entire breakfast I'd made her into the trash.
“Um…alright. Let me just get my purse,” I smiled nicely, despite wanting to strangle the woman. I darted upstairs to grab my bag, pausing to take a few deep breaths before heading back down. We drove to the Met in silence, saying nothing to each other until we'd reached the museum.
“Do you appreciate art, Jessica?” Agatha asked when we’d stopped at one exhibit.
“I do. I actually come here every time they have something new. I studied art history as a hobby when I was in high school,” I answered, and Agatha looked at me with surprise.
“That is interesting,” she remarked, then promptly went back to ignoring me. We spent three excruciatingly awkward hours at the Met, and afterwards I enticed her into trying a nearby restaurant that was famous for its soups and breads. I was ravenous since I hadn't eaten much that morning, and I knew Agatha had to be hungry as well since she'd callously shunned the breakfast I'd prepared her.
“So tell me, Jessica. I've been curious about something…” Agatha began after our waiter took our orders.
“Yes?” I asked cautiously.
“About you,” she gestured at me with
a regal wave of her hand. “I mean, honestly, what kind of person agrees to marry somebody for money?” she scoffed. I was at a loss for words, my mouth agape as she continued on. “I understand my son's just as guilty as you are, but why would you take his money, and why would you accept a promotion I'm sure you weren't ready for?”
“Well,” I started to reply, then paused to nervously take a sip from the glass of water our waiter had poured. I needed a second to process her questions and formulate a viable answer. I was already on edge around the woman, her sudden interrogation having shocked me more than it had angered me, and my hand shook as I set my glass back down. After all, they were valid questions to ask, and if I were in her shoes I knew I'd want some answers as well. “Both Nick and Bastian felt I was skilled enough for the promotion. I love what I do, and I'm good at it,” I finally replied as calmly as I could.
“Yes, I'm sure. But you see, I can't help but wonder about your character. My son offers a large sum of money, you accept, and then…you get pregnant,” she went on with a look of skepticism. “The nature of your arrangement, and now the added element of a child, perplexes me. Are you trying to trap him into something? You already have enough money to last several lifetimes.”
“I'm not trying to trap him into anything,” I shot back as I leaned forward in my chair, my face turning serious. “The baby happened by chance,” I told her fiercely while keeping my voice low.
“Sure,” she chuckled sarcastically. “You take a bribe and agree to marry a billionaire. The arrangement was to stay married for two years, but you conveniently get pregnant. I can only see two explanations for this. The first is that you actually do love my son, you let your emotions blind you, and got pregnant to keep him. The second is that you are a greedy, money hungry woman who plans on using the child for a constant cash flow.”
My chest grew hot and tight at her words. She spoke so conversationally, as if what she was saying wasn't highly offensive, and that only angered me more.
“That's not it at all!” I hissed. “The baby happened by accident! But, yeah, of course I developed real feelings for Bastian. It was impossible not to given our situation,” I explained, fighting the urge to throw the rest of my water in her face. The woman had gotten under my skin, and I wasn't sure if my pregnant hormones were amplifying my annoyance.
“Of course you have feelings for him,” she laughed condescendingly. “You need to realize that he doesn't feel the same for you. He's simply going through the motions to ensure his citizenship. In two years, maybe even less, he's going to divorce you…child or no child,” she sneered, her words sending a painful jolt through my body.
“He didn't tell you that…” I muttered, unsure of my own words. Perhaps that was exactly what Bastian had told her, and I was setting myself up to be made a fool.
“Of course he did. And when that time comes, you can expect to be cut off. It goes without saying that the child will be under Bastian's custody,” Agatha grinned cruelly.
“He…he said he would take the baby?” I replied, completely aghast by this revelation. I couldn't believe he would tell her these things, but her words cast a shadow of doubt over the entire situation. I was clearly shaken, and Agatha saw it like a shark sensing blood in the water.
“Yes, and you would do better to just accept the facts,” she said sagely as our soup arrived. I stared at my bowl for a moment, my racing mind reaching the darkest conclusions. I thought Bastian had genuine feelings for me, and was even beginning to think he may love me, but now I questioned everything. He'd allowed his venomous mother to come visit, had told her about our arrangement without consulting me first, and had barely defended me to her. The reality of things were settling in like the sting of a slap, and I couldn't stand to be in the woman's presence any longer.
“I hope you know how to call for a cab,” I snapped before abruptly storming out of the restaurant. Bastian's driver had chauffeured him to work in a town car that morning, and I'd been left to guide Agatha around the city in his Mercedes. I climbed into the driver's seat and my hands gripped the wheel angrily as I sped off. I was so upset I hadn't even realized where I was going until I'd reached the Hamptons. When I pulled up to Bastian's beach house, Tasha answered the door in surprise.
“Jess, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” she asked with a look of concern as she ushered me inside.
“I'm sorry I didn't call. I was just…upset,” I answered with a sigh. JJ came running through the foyer and I opened my arms to catch him.
“Tati Jessie!” he screamed in glee, then planted a sloppy kiss on both of my cheeks.
“I hope you still know some French,” Tasha laughed. “He's refused to speak English today.”
“You look sad,” JJ said in French.
“Don't worry about your aunt. I'm fine,” I assured him, also speaking in French, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He giggled at me and wrapped his arms around my neck tightly as I scooped him up.
“Wow, you speak it well, Jess,” Tasha complimented as we made our way into the family room. JJ had his toys spread out on the floor, and I set him down so I could take a seat on the couch next to Tasha. “So what's up?” she asked, then added as she gestured to JJ, “He was right, you know. It's obvious something's bothering you.”
I exhaled loudly, unsure where to begin. I couldn't tell her the entire story since that would require telling the truth. In that moment, I hated that I had to lie to my family while Bastian was allowed to be completely forthcoming with his mother.
“Bastian's mom hates me,” I exhaled loudly, “and I'm pretty sure I feel the same way about her.”
“Is it really that bad?” Tasha questioned with an apologetic look.
“Yes,” I nodded. “You could say that. I actually left her while we were having lunch. Speaking of which, do you mind if I grab something to eat? I'm starving.”
“Of course not!” Tasha replied as she motioned to the kitchen where we were able to continue our conversation while still keeping an eye on JJ. “You just up and left her?”
“Yeah. She was being a total bitch and I just couldn't deal with it anymore.”
“Sheesh, Jessica, you didn't even call her a cab at least?” she asked, looking slightly amused by the story.
“Nope,” I shook my head. “I told her to call her own, but I'm sure she just called Bastian. I don't know. I haven't heard from either of them.”
“So now you and Bastian are having problems again?”
“Eh,” I shrugged. “It's just…some of the things the woman said make sense, and I'm upset that Bastian was never up front with me about them,” I sighed as I began making myself a sandwich.
“Like what?” Tasha prodded.
“It's…personal,” I told her dismissively.
“Well, you know what I'm going to say, don't you?” she replied as she rounded the kitchen island to give me a hug, and when she pulled away she gave me a knowing look. “You have to talk to Bastian, Jessica. Running away every time something gets tough isn't the way a successful marriage works.”
“I know, but I'm just…I'm hurt,” I admitted while I made my loaded grilled cheese.
“I understand,” she sighed as I raided the pickle jar I'd spotted in the refrigerator door. “But you won't know for sure if whatever his mother said was true unless you communicate with him. You have to talk to him, no matter how hurt or upset you are.”
Her words resonated, her advice leaving me conflicted. I knew she was right, but a part of me feared what Bastian might say.
Chapter 16
Bastian
I bolted from the courthouse once the judge called recess. My mother had lost it, phoning me to say that Jessica had abandoned her in a lousy restaurant. Of course my irate mother wouldn't explain why Jessica had up and left her there, but I knew she'd probably pressed some buttons she shouldn't have. I couldn't help but feel like an idiot for thinking the two might bond if they spent a little time together.
I had m
y driver rush me to the address my mother had given me, and found her waiting on the sidewalk with her typical look of annoyance. She spotted the town car pulling alongside the curb, and I hopped out to help her inside before instructing my driver to take us back to the penthouse.
“What happened?” I demanded to know as the car darted in and out of traffic. I had a sick feeling that the woman had actually done it—that she'd managed to drive Jessica away like I had feared.
“We were having a conversation is all. I supposed she didn't like some of the things I had to say, so she got up and left,” she answered innocently. Seconds later her tone changed and she scoffed, “Hardly the type of woman you want raising your child, Bastian.”
She turned her head to gaze out of the window, refusing to meet my icy stare as I seethed with anger.
“What did you say to her?” I growled.
She turned her head slightly, though she still wouldn’t make eye contact with me. I studied her face intently as she debated her answer.
“I hardly think Jessica is the kind of woman you should marry. She won't be there for you or your child,” she finally returned coldly, and if ever there was a time I wanted to shake my mother, it was then.
“Mama, what did you tell Jessica?” I asked again, making sure to measure my tone. I knew the moment I lost my temper she'd shut down and I'd never get anything out of her.
“I told her that your arrangement is just that—an arrangement. The fact that there is a child involved means nothing.”
“How could you say that to her when I told you how I feel?!” I exploded, unable to stop myself from yelling. Her shoulders tensing slightly was her only noticeable reaction to my outburst.
“A marriage is supposed to be sacred, Bastian. When two people love each other, that's when they get married. They don't do it for money. This Jessica girl…she isn't good for you,” she explained calmly.
I raked my fingers through my hair in exasperation. When we finally arrived at my building, I hurried up to my penthouse not caring that I'd left my mother behind. In that moment, I completely understood why Jessica had also ditched her. Once again, I kicked myself for being naïve enough to think the two could actually get along when I could barely even tolerate the woman.