by Rye Hart
So far, I wasn't impressed. Like, not at all.
“I'm ready,” I said, opening the door and waiting for Adam to follow me out.
He took one last look around Raya's place before exiting the apartment. I locked the door behind us and followed him down onto the street.
“Your chariot awaits,” Adam said, opening the car door for me.
I glared at him, wanting to tell him I had two hands capable of opening doors myself, but I let it go. He probably thought he was being chivalrous, but his attitude was nothing but condescending. He made me sick. After tonight though, I might never have to see him again and his asshole, sexist attitude wouldn't matter.
But, if Malcolm still wanted this baby, this would be his uncle. No need to piss him off. He was practically family and all. Ugh.
“An Acura, huh?” I didn't mean to say it out loud, it just happened to pop out.
“What was that?” Adam asked, sliding into the driver's seat beside me, and buckling up.
“Oh, nothing,” I said. “I'm just surprised you don't drive a more pretentious car like a BMW or something.”
Adam laughed and started the car.
“I mean, not that Acuras are bad cars,” I said. “hell, it's still better than anything I could afford.”
Way to not piss off the brother, Casey, I thought to myself. I really should learn to keep my mouth shut.
“I guess Malcolm never told you,” Adam said.
His voice was softer than I'd expected, and I saw a flash of something in his eyes that resembled sadness. I had no idea, but I saw it, and then it was gone, like it had never been, as Adam got himself back under control again.
“Told me what?” I asked.
Adam sighed as he glanced over at me, a contemplative look on his face. He seemed to be studying me, trying to decide if he could confide in me. Finally, he gave himself a little nod, apparently deciding that he could.
“While Malcolm was lucky enough to grow up a Crane, I didn't discover who my father was until a few years ago,” he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. “Oh, he'd been sending money all these years, but it wasn't much. My mom practically had to beg for every penny she could get from the old man. I may work for him now, but I'll never be Malcolm. I work a shitty customer service job, while he's training to be CEO. I make decent enough money though, so I can't complain, I just wish... ”
He trailed off and that sad, or regretful flash in his eyes returned. He fell silent and look out beyond the windshield, the look on his face saying he was somewhere else. Another time or another life, perhaps. The only thing I knew was that he wasn't there in the car with me at that moment.
“You wish what?”
“Nothing,” he snapped, breaking himself out of his reverie. “Forget I said anything.”
I didn't care enough about Adam to push the issue. If he didn't want to talk to me about it, that was his choice. That was fine. I stared off out the window, lost in my own thoughts and problems. I didn't have much in the way of room to take his on too.
Part of me though, wanted to feel bad for Adam. Even if I didn't like him. Yet, he still had it easier than I ever did simply because his father was a Crane. Shitty customer service job or not, he still had money, and at the end of the day, he had a warm house he could go home to. He no longer had to worry about where his next meal was coming from.
Adam drove us into Beverly Hills. It shouldn’t have surprised me in the least that someone like Malcolm and his family would live there – and yet, on some levels, it did. Maybe, because I'd forgotten exactly how wealthy he was. When we were together, it was easy to think of him as just a person, and not a billionaire. He was usually just so down to earth and easy going. He didn't seem like the usual uptight rich assholes I had to deal with when I worked at Obelisk.
The car stopped outside a wrought iron gate, and Adam entered a passcode into the security keypad beside the driveway. The gates opened, and he guided the car down a long driveway that led to a stunningly gorgeous mansion. It was enormous and looked like something one of the Real Housewives would live in. “Ready to meet the infamous Crane family?” Adam said, his voice as dry as sandpaper.
He sounded about as excited as I did to finally meet Malcolm's family. Maybe under different circumstances I'd be excited, but Malcolm wasn't expecting me, and I wasn't sure how well this would go over with him. After all, he'd never mentioned introducing me to his family before.
There was probably a reason for that, I thought to myself
I knew I wasn't the sort of girl he usually dated. Iwas from the wrong side of the tracks, as the old saying went. He'd be dating down to be with somebody like me. Dating well below his station, or some snooty shit like that.
But what were they going to think and say when they found out he was going to have a child with somebody so beneath his station?
“Do we have our story straight?” I asked Adam, peering over at him as we sat in the car, staring at the ridiculously large mansion before us.
“You're my date for the night,” he said. “Simple enough. They're used to me bringing random girls over. Don't expect Cynthia to be pleasant though. She hates my guts. It's not personal.”
“Cynthia is –?”
“Malcolm's mother, sorry.”
“Oh,” I said.
My pulse was going crazy and I felt a headache coming on. I briefly considered telling Adam that I'd made a mistake with all of this and would just take a cab home. I knew that if I stepped through those doors, Malcolm might be furious with me. He might decide it was too much drama for him to deal with and send me packing.
But dammit, I was pregnant with his child and he couldn't simply ignore me. That's not who I was, and that's not who I was going to let him be. This was an issue we needed to deal with head on. Since he wasn't returning my calls, I decided that the best option was to bring the issue to him.
“Alright,” Adam said, taking a deep breath of his own. “Let's do this.”
He opened the car door for me, and this time, I wasn't even mad. I was too lost in thought and trying to keep myself from being freaked out to notice or really care all that much. My legs were weak, but he took hold of my arm and helped me walk up the stairs and onto a porch studded with ornate Greek columns. Lights shone from inside the house, the windows glowing a bright orange against the darkness and the evening moonlight.
I stared at the ornate wood door, the name ‘Crane’ carved into it with birds intricately carved alongside it. “I guess it's now or never, right?” I said. “Time to put up or shut up.”
“You'll be okay. You'll do just fine, Casey,” Adam said, opening up the door so we could head inside.
Yeah, just fine. If I could keep myself from throwing up all over the fancy, expensive oriental rug in the foyer, that would be a great start. Adam seemed as cool and confident as ever, any sign of his former self – the poor, neglected child whose father had forgotten about him – was gone. In his place was the arrogant and cocky little shit I took him to be from the moment we met.
The first person we ran into when we stepped into the foyer was an older Hispanic woman. She looked from Adam to me, and then she smiled brightly. Her smile was warm and genuine, and I got a good feeling about her. In some ways, she reminded me a lot of my own abuela.
“Casey, this is Alba,” she said.
“Un placer concrete, Alba,” I said.
The woman looked at Adam, then back at me, a look of mile surprise in her eyes, but the smile growing wider on her face.
“Gracias, mi nina.” Alba said, taking my hands in hers. “I like her already, Adam.”
Well, at least I had one ally in the house. By the looks of things, she was probably their housekeeper. How cliche could you get, really?
Adam laughed. “I have no idea what you've just said to one another, but okay.”
“I just told her it was nice to meet her, and she thanked me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Did you never take Spanish back in school?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed as he took my hand and led me through the foyer. We walked into a hallway that ended in a grand staircase. I heard voices upstairs, and when I heard one in particular, my heart started to thunder in my chest. I held my breath as we waited at the bottom of the stairs for him to make an appearance. As we stood there, I found myself gripping Adam's hand tighter than I'd intended. I also started contemplating the wisdom of turning around and getting the hell out of there, calling an Uber, and going the hell home.
What had I been thinking to come here? To crash their family dinner party like that?
Before I could turn and run, I heard footsteps coming down the staircase, and finally, I caught sight of Malcolm. He was walking alongside a woman I'd seen before. As I looked at her, I realized that I knew who she was. She was the girlfriend from the club. The one Malcolm said he was done with. The woman he said he'd never be with again. Ever.
The two were lost in their conversation, looking entirely cozy with one another, and Malcolm was staring intently at her. When she rounded the corner, I noticed she was holding her stomach, caressing it, and smiling warmly. She was wearing an empire waist dress that flowed out from her stomach, a style someone like her wouldn't wear unless –
“I made a mistake coming here,” I said. “I need to go. I need to get out of here.”
I'd meant to speak low enough that only Adam could hear me, but apparently, I spoke loud enough that it made Malcolm and his girlfriend to stop on the stairs and look down at me.
“Casey? What are –”
The blonde stepped forward. “This is Casey?” she sneered. “What is she doing here?”
Malcolm's blue eyes turned to steel and his jaw clenched as he walked the rest of the way down the stairs. He stood before me, his face a blank mask that bore no emotion whatsoever. He turned that look toward Adam, and when he did, something changed in his expression. His face went from someone trying to hide their emotions to a man who was very clearly angry beyond measure. The air around us was saturated with tension; charged with electricity and the anticipation of violence.
I backed up, moving toward the doorway, and away from the two men who were locked in an intense stare-down. Malcolm looked like he wanted to take Adam apart piece by piece. Adam though, looked back at his half-brother with an amused little smirk on his face.
Malcolm turned and locked eyes with me. Although the anger he'd been directing at Adam had mostly faded, there was still a trace of it left. His gaze bored into me and singed by skin with its heat and intensity.
“Danielle, Adam, could you give us a minute?” Malcolm finally said, his gaze never leaving me.
Danielle glared at Adam. “Yeah, Adam,” she asked. “What is she doing here?”
“She's my date for tonight,” he said, his voice cold as ice. “Why? Do you two know each other or something, Malcolm?”
“Casey, what's going on?” Malcolm's voice rose higher and carried a hard, brittle edge to it. “Why are you here with him?”
He stepped toward me again, and this time, I had to let go of Adam's hand to move. Without answering him, I tore my eyes away from his and quickly turned, hurrying toward the front door. More than anything, in that moment, I needed fresh air. The tension and pressure were so great, I felt like I couldn't breathe in there. I felt like I was being crushed beneath the weight of Malcolm's furious gaze.
I needed to escape. Standing there, watching Malcolm and the woman coming down the stairs, I realized what an idiot I'd been. What a naïve fool. Danielle was the woman he'd brought to the club – I'd know that resting bitch face anywhere.
Yet, there she was, in the Crane home, walking with Malcolm like they were still together. She was not only walking with him, looking every bit like the reconciled couple, she was also very clearly with child.
His child.
My breath came out in panicked bursts and I felt like I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I realized that we were both having his baby. Suddenly though, everything started to make sense. The reason he cut me off and wanted to stop trying to get me pregnant, was because Danielle was already pregnant. He'd hedged his bets and Danielle had come in ahead of me. She'd won.
I reached the door and pulled on it, but a hand shot out from behind me and pushed it closed before I could step outside.
“Casey, please,” Malcolm said.
His voice was lower now, and it ran over my skin like velvet. I looked into his eyes and saw a mix of emotions. Fear. Anger. Betrayal. Compassion. You name it, it certainly looked like Malcolm was feeling it.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“What's there to talk about?” I asked. “I know my place. I know my role.”
Malcolm grabbed hold of my shoulders and turned me around, facing me back toward the bottom of the grand staircase. In the doorway though, Adam and Danielle were standing there watching us. Adam had a gigantic grin stretched across his smug face and I wanted to slap it right off of him.
As he stood there grinning at me, I realized that he'd planned this. He'd planned this all along. He knew what I'd see when we got there, he knew that Malcolm and Danielle were back together, and yet, he brought me anyway.
Danielle just stood there with her arms crossed in front of her, a deep, angry scowl on her otherwise perfect face. She was tall and blonde and beautiful – everything a man like Malcolm would want. She was a model, or at least that's what I'd heard at the club. Not that she was famous or anything, but she was everything I wasn't.
We existed at opposite ends of the spectrum, Danielle and me. She was a woman at Malcolm's station. I was beneath it. She was the kind of woman he would marry. I was the kind of woman he'd fuck when he wanted something a little different and wild.
Tears welled in my eyes and my heart was stuttering around in my chest like the town drunk. I bit my tongue hard, wincing at the sharp pain. I was not going to cry in front of these people. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
I caught the look of one other person who was further down the hall. It was Alba. I locked eyes with her and noticed the worried expression on her face. She joined us in the foyer, took one look at Malcolm and me, and smiled.
“Come,” she said softly. “Let's sit for dinner. The Cranes are waiting.”
Adam and Danielle turned to follow her, and I turned back toward the door, intent on leaving. Malcolm again held the door closed and prevented me from leaving. He turned me around and put his hands on the door behind me, trapping me between them. He'd cornered me, and his eyes bored straight into mine. I couldn't bear to look at him, my eyes were filling with tears, so I looked down at the floor instead.
“Now that we're alone...” he whispered.
Instead of finishing the sentence with words, he kissed me long and hard and full of the passion I'd come to expect from Malcolm Crane's kisses. I was so shocked by the move that I didn't react. I was stunned.
A moment later though, I got my wits back about me and balled my fists up. I drove them into his chest and tried to push him back, but it was no use. I was too small, he was too strong. He stopped kissing me though, and instead leaned into me, resting his forehead against mine.
“You're mad at me,” he said.
“No, I'm not,” I lied. “I'm fine.”
A smile tickled at his lips, and I could see that he wanted to grin and make a snarky comment. But, being the wise man he was, he seemed to know better than smile or crack a joke at a time like that. It was smart since it kept him from getting kicked in the nuts.
“You're not fine,” he said. “And listen, I can explain everything. I promise.”
“Oh. You can explain why you've been ignoring all my texts?” I said, heat creeping into my voice. “I told you, we need to talk, Malcolm. I wasn't fucking around.”
“You went through all this trouble with Adam just to talk to me?�
� he asked, looking completely taken aback by me going through all of this just to see him.
“Yes,” I said.
“Okay, then talk.”
There was an edge to his voice I hadn't heard before. He was angry at me, or maybe it was Adam. I couldn't tell.
“What about your family dinner?” I asked, a sneer in my voice.
He shrugged. “Fuck them. I don't like most of my family anyway,” he said. “You came all this way, you endured the hell that is spending time with Adam, so talk to me, Casey. What's so important that it couldn't wait?”
“I thought you were cutting things off with me,” I said. “Not that we were every anything more than – well, you know. But given the fact that you seemed like you were cutting me off, I wasn't sure if our agreement still stood or not.”
Malcolm sighed and closed his eyes. He relaxed into me, and I found it hard not to reach out and touch his face or run my fingers through his hair. He was so sickeningly sexy and being so near him made my body react. My heart raced, my stomach churned, and it felt like my every nerve ending was on fire.
He didn't have to necessarily do a damn thing. My body just reacted on its own whenever we were together – and judging by the bulge in his pants pressing against me, I guess the feeling was mutual.
“Casey, I –”
Alba’s voice came from behind him, interrupting our talk.
“Malcolm, your father is asking for you.” “Tell him I'll be right there,” Malcolm said through clenched teeth.
“He's going to come looking for you himself if you don't hurry.”
Malcolm sighed again, this time in frustration. He straightened himself up, and suddenly, the blank, emotionless mask he'd been wearing was back. Only his eyes held any hint of softness toward me now.
“Casey, I promise I'll explain everything later,” he said. “But, for now, would you care to join us for dinner?”
“Care to join you?” I asked. “I mean, after everything that had happened, you wouldn't mind? I'm not sure it'd go over too well, honestly.”
“Of course I wouldn't mind,” he said. “But until we talk, can we downplay our relationship, please? I usually don't tell these people any more than they need to know at any given time. Things are safer that way.”