by Lexy Timms
And as I stood underneath the awning of the shop, I figured a phone call to Maria after days of radio silence was necessary.
“Well, it’s nice to know you’re not dead.”
“It’s good to hear from you, too. You know this phone works both ways,” I said.
“Not when you leave me here to run an entire vineyard and field a bunch of NFL-crazy wine dealers,” Maria said.
“Things going that well?”
“Let’s say I could use a few of your stories. How are things out in Stillsville? Getting Anton’s house taken care of?”
“It’s coming along. I have another showing later on today since the first one fell through.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“And not a story I want to talk about right now. In the meantime, I want you to send out two more cases of wine to Anton’s address. Overnight, if you can.”
“Are you throwing some sort of selling celebration?” she asked. “Or is this for someone else?”
“Mind your own business and ship the wine out.”
“So tense. Maybe I’ll ship you out the bad stuff just to stick it to you.”
“Do you enjoy your job?” I asked.
“I do when it’s not running around behind you and cleaning up your messes. I’ll ship the wine out to you. You’re lucky that it was just bottled.”
“And you’re lucky I’ve known you for so long,” I said with a grin.
“I’ll get it in the mail and overnight it within the hour. But you owe me a story.”
“I owe you several for what you’ve done for me. I’ll keep in touch.”
“No, you won’t. Not if she’s involved. But let me know how the showing goes, even if you don’t want to fill me in on all the fun details of your adventure.”
“I hear you grinning.”
“Good. Because it’s out and shining,” she said. “I’ll shoot you a message when I’ve sent it out.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up the phone and walked into the florist to concoct the perfect bouquet. But just as I went to place my order, a few teenage girls came into the shop. Chattering and giggling away, off in their own little worlds with their heads in the clouds. They went up to the counter and ordered corsages for their senior prom, but once they caught sight of me their conversation ceased.
Until one of them pointed and began to giggle.
“It’s nice to know I can still entertain,” I said.
“Are you that rich guy from out of town?” one of the girls asked.
“The one that used to be a jerk in high school?” another asked.
I shrugged, though I silently begged the florist to speed up her work.
“There were a lot of guys who were jerks in high school. But not all of them are rich,” I said with a grin.
“So you’re the guy who’s doing the waitress,” the girl asked.
“To my knowledge, she isn’t a waitress anymore,” I said.
“But she’s the girl, right? The one that’s hooking up with her ex, too?”
I frowned at the question as my eyes batted between the three girls. I looked over to the florist, but the woman was peering back at me from my flowers with a sad look in her eyes. Apparently, it was a rumor she was privy to as well.
Was that what the town was talking about? Michelle screwing around with Andy behind my back?
“Let me ask you something, since you seem to want to indulge in adult topics,” I said. “Where did you pick up a rumor like that?”
“Oh, it’s not a rumor,” one of the girls said. “It never is.”
“Trust me. You think you know everything as a sixteen—”
“Seventeen,” the three girls said in unison.
“Even better. Because I thought I knew everything at seventeen as well. Trust me, you don’t. The woman you’re talking about? She’s a great person. And this rumor you’ve heard about her? Probably started by a woman who’s jealous that she’s not with me and this lovely woman is instead. So the next time you want to believe a rumor, ask yourself one question.”
I took a step towards the girls while the florist rang me up.
“What does the other person stand to benefit from telling it?” I asked.
I paid for the flowers and walked out, but the rumor still weighed on me. Damn it. Those damn voices were back. If the entire town was talking about that, then that was probably why Michelle was fired from her job. And common sense told me it was a rumor that was probably started by Cecily herself. Or Andy. Or someone else that stood to gain some sort of sick pleasure from making mine or Michelle’s life miserable.
But I had seen them come out of the bathroom together. And Andy had called Michelle his girl. And Cecily had told me Michelle was screwing around behind my back. I knew what this town was capable of. The lies that permeated through their mouths for the sake of entertainment. But was it possible an entire town of people, including the high schoolers, had something wrong? High school girls were annoying as hell, but they were detectives. Hell, the CIA could hire them to track down people and they’d have their name, telephone number, last prior address, and current whereabouts within the hour.
Was it possible girls whose entire lives revolved around finding the catty truth had something like this wrong?
I got back to the house and carried the flowers and the wine into the kitchen, and I expected to find Michelle there. But the more I walked through the house, the more I found it empty.
“Michelle?” I asked. “You here?”
I pulled out the two bottles of wine and set them on the table next to the flowers before I called out her name again. Only this time, I was met with a sound.
But it wasn’t the sound I expected.
“Michelle?” I asked, as I walked down the hallway. “You okay in there?”
I knocked on the bathroom door and heard what sounded like someone getting sick. I furrowed my brow and leaned against the wall, listening as the faucet turned on. Water ran while the toilet flushed, and soon Michelle emerged looking pale and sick to her stomach.
She jumped when she saw me there. Almost like she didn’t even hear me calling for her.
“Hey. You okay?” I asked, as I pushed off the wall.
Her eyes filled with that worried stare, but then another look crossed her face. A look that sent my own stomach rolling as it blanketed her features.
Guilt.
Why did Michelle look guilty?
“What’s wrong?” I asked, as I rolled my shoulders back. “Why were you just throwing up?”
She sighed before she walked back into the bathroom, then emerged with a plastic bag full of tests. She handed it out to me and I rose my hand, taking it as my eyes fell to the glaring word that ripped me back to so many terrible memories.
No.
Not her.
“I’m pregnant, Gray,” she said with a whisper.
Not Michelle, too.
Chapter 28
Michelle
I watched Gray shake his head as I said those words. His eyes widened as he dropped the bag, like it was on fire or something. Panic rolled through my veins as his wide eyes met mine, then ever so slowly they narrowed. Pierced me with distrust. I took a step away from him, no longer recognizing the man standing in front of me.
I felt the urge to run for my room as he grew taller with his stance.
“What happened?” Gray asked quietly.
“I uh—well, in the butcher shop the other day, I got sick,” I said. “Like, really sick. And Dr. Luke was in there. You know, the town doctor? And he asked me when I was due. I had no idea what he was talking about, but he insisted I was pregnant. I told him it wasn’t possible, I was on regular birth control. The pill, you know?”
“I do. That’s what you told me,” he said calmly.
“But I couldn’t shake what he said, so I ran to the pharmacy and got those tests. I went to the gas station and got your oil, then took the tests. And they were all positive,
Gray. All four of them. I mean, what are the chances they’re all wrong? That’s possible, right?”
I looked back up into his eyes, but saw only a stoic wall staring back at me.
“Gray?” I asked.
“How far along are you?” he asked plainly.
“Well, according to two of those tests, I’m not more than seven or eight weeks. Dr. Luke said I couldn’t be any more than two months in.”
“Did your lack of a period not tip you off to this?”
The tone of his voice made me feel as if I’d been slapped. As if I was some dumb child he was chastising.
“No, it didn’t,” I said flatly. “I’ve never been regular. It’s why I went on birth control in the first place. To regulate my periods.”
He stared at me for a long moment before kicking the pregnancy tests towards me. He turned on his heels, shaking his head. Like he couldn’t believe me. Or didn’t. He walked away from me as the tests sat at my feet, staring up at me with the reality of my life.
“Do you not believe me?” I asked.
I followed him into the kitchen and found a breathtaking bouquet of flowers sitting on the kitchen table. But Gray refused to answer my question. I didn’t like this silence. I didn’t like how he was walking away from me. I stopped when I saw the two bottles of wine as more guilt pooled in my gut.
I couldn’t even indulge in the surprise he’d gotten for me.
“Please tell me what you’re thinking,” I said, as I stood at the kitchen archway.
I watched him pause, his back to me, as his eyes glanced over at the flowers. His stare danced around them, taking in their beauty before breathing in their scent deeply. Then, in a sudden movement, his arm pushed out and shoved the vase of flowers off the table. They fell to the ground and shattered, splaying glass and stems and petals and water all over the place. I jumped, my hands coming to my mouth as he whipped around on his feet.
His eyes were on fire with an anger that made him unrecognizable.
“Was this your plan the entire time?” he asked.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“Was your plan to fuck the billionaire and get pregnant?”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“I’ve never seen you take a damn pill, Michelle. So tell me, were you really on birth control? Or was it all a lie to trap me?”
“I take my pill whenever I get up in the morning.”
“So you don’t take it regularly. You know, like you’re instructed to do.”
“I take it every morning,” I said, enunciating every syllable.
“Look me in my eyes and tell me this wasn’t your plan,” he said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I exclaimed.
“Tell me that you didn’t try to get pregnant with me as soon as you figured out I had money, Michelle!”
“How could you even think that of me?”
“This isn’t the first time it’s happened to me. In fact, this isn’t even the first pregnancy scare I’ve been through with a woman. But if you’re telling me what I think you are—the fact that you’re actually carrying my child—it would be the first time the rumor was true!”
He lunged at me and I stumbled back, my ass hitting the edge of the back of the couch.
“I didn’t try to trap you,” I said, with a whisper. “I love you, Gray.”
His body stopped and his face contorted before a breathless chuckle fell from his lips. And that breathless chuckle turned into ironic laughter. And that laughter turned into a seething sound that bled through his teeth as his eyes locked with mine.
“There’s no way that child is mine. For all I know, it’s Andy’s, and you’re pawning it off on me for a better future.”
“What?” I asked flatly.
“You know the kind of shithead he is. The kind of deadbeat life you’d lead with carrying his child. But you’ve been screwing around with me, so telling me it’s mine at least gives you a shot at a decent life.”
“How could you say that? I just told you I loved you!”
“Why was my money such a big deal to you in the first place?” he asked. “When we first went at it before we both left, you said you figured out how much I was worth. My net worth. You looked it up. And you were upset I hadn’t told you about it. Why?”
“Because you were lying to me, Gray. I knew nothing about you, and I wanted to know more.”
“So, it’s all a coincidence that your questions surrounded how much money I had. It’s all just a coincidence that you wanted to listen to me talk about my massive house so you could ogle me with those innocent doe eyes.”
“Gray, stop it,” I said as tears welled in my eyes.
“No. No, I won’t stop it. This has all been an act, hasn’t it? This was your way of trying to make a better life for yourself. This is your way of being a gold digger. Hiding it under this innocent act of yours while you batted those eyelashes at me and yanked me by my chain.”
“How could you think that about me? I just told you I loved you!”
“Nobody loves a billionaire, Michelle! Just his money. And you’re no different. I know what the town’s talking about. I know why your boss fired you. They’ve all figured out that you’re doing Andy behind my back, and I’ve been too damn blind to see it.”
“For the last time, I’m not screwing around with my ex!”
“Then why did a bunch of high school girls whose mission is to always seek out the scaly, nasty truth come in talking about it today? Hmm? Why did the damn florist of all people look at me with pity in her eyes and confirm what those girls were talking about? The entire town is talking about it, Michelle. Do you really mean to tell me an entire town is wrong about you?”
“You said it yourself, this town is poisonous, Gray.”
“And you want to get out of it.”
“If I can, yes. Especially now that I’m pregnant. I don’t want to raise a child here. Would you?”
“I’m not raising any child because I have no idea if the child is even mine, Michelle.”
“Whose else would it be? I haven’t been with Andy in over three months! I’m only two months along, at best, Gray,” I said.
“Oh, trust and believe I will be getting a DNA test on that child. If this is the game you really want to play, rest assured you will be dealing with my lawyer.”
“What!?” I exclaimed.
But Gray stormed out of the room without a second thought.
“Where the hell are you going?” I asked.
“I’m leaving,” he said, as he stormed into his room.
“So that’s your M.O. right? You just up and leave when things get too tough or when things don’t go your way? Well, believe it or not, Gray, I can’t run from what’s happening,” I said.
“Good. Because you should take a good hard look in the fucking mirror and try to sell yourself on your own damn story before you try to sell it to me.”
I watched him grab his things before he shoved past me and headed for the door.
“And before you even think about going anywhere,” he said, as he whipped around, “you stick around. I’m heading straight to my lawyer’s office, and he’ll need to know how to get in touch with you.”
“Grayson, you’re being insane!” I exclaimed.
But before I could reach for him to try and convince him to stay, he was out the door.
I crumbled to my knees as nausea rolled over my body. Tears crested the folds of my eyes as I reached for the small trash can at the side of the door. I stuck my face into it and heaved, listening as Gray’s convertible cranked up and peeled from the driveway. I heaved and I puked. My body shook and my forehead began to sweat. Tears streamed down my cheeks in silent batches as I reached for the door, pushing it closed so I could cry in peace.
What the hell just happened? Did Gray really think I was capable of all those things? Was that really what he thought of me?
I’d just told the man of my dream
s I loved him, and he accused me of being a petty gold digger.
I sat back against the wall and wiped at my mouth. I felt terrible. My head hurt. My stomach continued to roll with nothing in it. But if he thought for one second I was going to stick around Anton’s house and wait for him to serve me with papers, he was sorely mistaken. If he didn’t want to have anything to do with this child’s life, that was on him. I knew this child wasn’t Andy’s. I knew it was Gray’s. But his anger issues were his problem. The only thing I knew what that I’d have to work as hard as I could to piece a life together in the next seven months or so. Something I could be proud of so I could support the child growing inside me.
I settled my hand against my stomach and splayed my fingers out, blanketing the area of my body that encased the rest of my future.
“Don’t worry,” I said, with a whisper. “Somehow, we’ll be okay.”
Even though my world was crumbling around me in shambles, I had to learn how to be strong. Because the entire existence of this helpless child would depend on my ability to get my head out of the clouds, get my heart under control, and get my life in order.
So, that was exactly what I was going to do.
No matter what the hell Gray decided to do with himself.
THE END
Worth More Than Money Blurb
GOING BACK TO WHERE I grew up solved nothing. Coming back home brought no peace. And now—as I look over Anton’s last piece of property—I still have no peace.
My godfather’s death brought a woman into my life. But a stupid argument ripped her away. I can’t stop thinking about her. Wondering about her. Dreaming about her. All I know is I have to see her. I have to feel her body pressed against me again.
Secrets are diseases, and my life is full of them.
But she isn’t innocent either. And encounters in my hometown after a brawl in a bar make me wonder if my money is all she’s after. Will she forgive the things I said? Can she look past the rumors and see the man I am now? Or are my assumptions of her true?