“I can’t eat all of it, but I could help you out. I don’t think I’ve ever had pumpkin bread or that apple dish you mentioned.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely serious.”
“What about caramel apples?”
“No.”
“Caramel corn?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even have it as a kid?”
“You don’t seem to be getting the fact that I live a rather unusual life.” I say it jokingly, but it’s true. “My childhood was atypical. There were no trips to the movies or the park or the shopping mall. I’ve worn suits for as long as I can remember, even as a young child. And I didn’t eat things like caramel apples or popcorn. When I was growing up, I had no idea what we ate for dinner every night. The chef would announce what we were having but it was nothing you’d recognize and definitely not something that would appeal to children. But my peers had similar lifestyles so none of us knew what we were missing.”
“Well, that settles it. I have to make you one of my pies. I’ve been in the mood to bake so this is great. Do you think I could come over next weekend? If you need to go to work, that’s fine. I can be here alone. I’ll be sure to make more than we can eat so you can share some with your parents. In fact, I’ll make them their own pie.”
The mention of my parents drags me back to reality. My other life. My real life. Not the fantasy life I’m currently living with the kind, smart, beautiful woman lying beside me.
“Don’t worry about my parents. They have their own chef and they’re very picky eaters.”
“Maybe I could bake something for George. I bet he’d like an apple pie.”
“Yes, I’m sure he would.” I lean over and kiss her. “Now let’s go find some breakfast. All this talk about baked goods has made me hungry.”
We go to the kitchen, only to find I have no ingredients. So I call up a local restaurant and have breakfast delivered. We get dressed while we wait for it to arrive.
I should be at work right now but I don’t want to go. I want to spend the day with Rachel.
“What are you doing today?” I ask her as we’re finishing breakfast.
“I have to study, but I was thinking I might take an hour or so to go on a drive and check out the leaves. They’re starting to turn color and I want to see them before they’re gone.”
“Why don’t we take a drive together? I’ve lived here my whole life. I know the best spots to go.”
“That’d be great. Could we go right now? That way I could get back this afternoon to study.”
“Let me just grab my keys.”
As I’m walking over to the table to get them, the phone rings. I stop to answer it. “This is Pearce.”
“Pearce, it’s your father.”
I turn away from Rachel. “What do you need?”
“I need to know why you weren’t at the office last night. You said you were going to work after the meeting, but I stopped by and you weren’t there.”
I can’t stand the way he keeps tabs on me, like I’m a child.
“What time did you come by?”
“Around eight.”
“I’d already left by then.”
“I asked the janitor where you were and he said you hadn’t been there all night.”
Great. Now he’s got the janitor spying on me?
“Actually, I wasn’t feeling well so I went home to rest.”
“Why didn’t you say that before?”
I lower my voice. “Because you always say illness is a sign of weakness and I didn’t want a lecture about how I needed to be stronger.”
“You’ll be getting a lecture if you don’t get in the office. It’s already 10:30 and you’re not here.”
“It’s Sunday. Maybe I decided to take the day off.”
“You don’t get to decide that. I’m your boss. Get in the office.”
“I’ll just wait downstairs,” Rachel says as she walks toward the elevator.
I hold my hand up, telling her to wait.
“Who was that?” I hear my father say.
“No one.”
“So you’re not sick. I knew you were lying. I can always tell with you, Pearce. Who are you with?”
Rachel’s standing a few feet away, looking for something in her purse.
“I can’t talk right now. I need to go.”
“That woman shouldn’t be there. The associates are not allowed to spend the night. Tell me her name and I’ll take care of it.”
If I did have an associate here, my father would be more than happy to report her and make sure she’s punished. He likes punishing people, including me. It makes him feel powerful.
“It’s not one of them,” I say.
“You found someone else? Was it Rielle? I heard you were with her recently.”
What the hell? Is everyone spying on me? Or did Rielle go tell the entire world we had sex?
“Yes,” I lie. “That’s correct.”
I say it’s Rielle because my father would approve of someone like Rielle. He would not at all approve of Rachel.
“Well, get rid of her. We have work to do. I expect to see you in the office in a half hour.”
He hangs up and I set the phone down.
“Is something wrong?” Rachel asks.
“I need to go into the office. We’ll have to postpone our drive to another day.”
“Okay, that’s fine. Maybe I can talk Shelby into going for a drive.”
I take Rachel back to her apartment. It’s out of the way from the office, which means I’ll get there late and have to listen to my father scold me and probably punish me by piling on even more work.
Why do I let him continue to treat me this way? Because he knows how to get in my head. That’s why. He knows my weaknesses. He knows how to control me. And I can’t seem to stop it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
14
RACHEL
Pearce has been quiet the entire drive back to my apartment. Now we’re parked in front of my building, but the car’s still running and his seatbelt is still on.
“Do you want to come in for a minute?” I ask as I release my seatbelt and open my door.
“I can’t. I’m already late for work.”
Late for work? It’s Sunday. It’s not even a work day. How can he be late on a Sunday?
“So, um, do you want to do anything this week?” I ask him.
“I’m not sure. I’ll call you.” He looks straight ahead as he says it.
“Then I guess I’ll see you later. Bye.”
I wait for him to say it back, but he doesn’t. He’s not even looking at me, his eyes still straight ahead.
I shut the door and he speeds off.
A sick feeling hits my stomach as I watch him drive away. Why was he being so quiet and cold? We were having such a great time and then he just shut down. When he left just now, he was almost acting like he wanted nothing to do with me. Like he was done with me. He didn’t even walk me to the door or kiss me goodbye.
Maybe I made a mistake being with him last night. Maybe he was just using me for sex and now that we’ve done it, he never wants to see me again. Dammit! This is why I don’t have sex this early in a relationship. I never should’ve done that.
I go upstairs to my apartment. Shelby comes out in the hall as I’m unlocking my door.
“Hey, are you just getting home?” she asks.
Now I feel ashamed. I don’t want her knowing I spent the night with Pearce. I know some girls would think nothing of having sex after just a few dates, but to me, it’s a big deal and something I never thought I’d do. And now I regret it.
“It was too late to come back here last night so I just stayed over,” I say as I go inside my apartment.
Shelby follows me. “So you must really like him.”
“I do, but…I don’t know.” I hang my purse on the hook by the door.
“You don’t know what? Whether you still like him? Did somet
hing happen?”
We go over to the couch and sit down. “He was acting weird when he dropped me off. He didn’t talk to me at all on the drive here and he didn’t walk me to the door, which is fine but usually he does so. . . I don’t know. Maybe he was just in a hurry.”
“I know what’s going on here. You slept with him, didn’t you?”
I nod.
“And now that he got what he wanted you think he’s lost interest in you.”
I look down at my hands. “Yeah.”
“Rachel.” She touches my arm and I look up again. “Don’t feel bad about this. Just forget about him and move on. You don’t want to be with a guy like Pearce Kensington.”
“What do you mean? You don’t even know him.”
She straightens up and sits back a little. “No, but I know he’s hot and super rich, which means he can have a different girl every night.”
“I just thought—”
“You were different than the others?”
“Yeah.” I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees as I cover my face with my hands. “How could I be that stupid? I never move this fast with a guy. And I never thought I would. I feel like such an idiot.”
“Hey.” She nudges me. “It happens to all of us. There isn’t a girl out there who hasn’t fallen for the wrong guy.”
“But he didn’t seem like the wrong guy. He seemed like the right guy.” I sit up. “I guess I just got caught up in the fantasy of being with someone like him. He’s handsome, charming, polite, smart, successful. He’s like my dream man. But I guess he’s everyone else’s too.” I take a throw pillow from the couch and hug it to my chest, resting my chin on it.
“You’ll find someone else. Why don’t we go out this week? We’ll go to a club and dance and have drinks. If we happen to meet some guys, great. But if not, we’ll just have a girls’ night.”
“I don’t really feel like going out. And I’m not ready to find another guy.” I look at her. “Shelby, I really liked Pearce. There was something about him. Something that drew me to him in a way I’ve never felt before.”
“He’s super hot, super rich, and knows exactly what to say. That’s why you felt that way.”
“No. It was more than that. I mean, yes, he complimented me and bought me gifts, so I guess you could say that was just him trying to get me to sleep with him. But I didn’t feel like that’s what it was. I really felt like he was starting to care about me. And I care about him. I worry about him. I know he’s rich, but I don’t think he’s happy. There’s this sadness to him that he tries to hide but I know it’s there. I can tell it’s hard for him to let his guard down and open up to people but he was starting to do that with me. He was loosening up and smiling more. He was letting me see this other side of him that I don’t think he shows many people, not even himself. He’s always so serious and he never does anything fun. He’d never even been to the movies until last night. And he didn’t own a pair of jeans. I took him shopping and picked out two pairs, along with some casual shirts. He’ll probably never wear them again but at least he wore them last night.” I smile. “You should’ve seen him at—”
“Rachel, what the hell?” Shelby’s staring at me.
“What?”
“Are you in love with this guy?”
“No! Of course not. I just met him.”
“Oh my God.” She throws her hands up.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“The way you answered my question just now. Total denial.”
“Denial about what?”
“The fact that you’re in love with Pearce Kensington.”
“I am NOT in love with him. In lust with him, maybe. But not love.”
“It’s definitely love. You should’ve seen your face when you were talking about him. I’ve seen that look before. No wonder you feel like shit. How did this happen so fast?” She sighs. “I don’t know what Pearce did or said to make you all crazy about him but you’ve gotta stop this before it goes any farther. You need to stop calling him, stop seeing him. You need to end this.”
“First of all, I’m not in love. And second, I think it’s already ended.”
“Good. But knowing him, he’ll probably stop by some night and try to lure you back. You can’t fall for it, Rachel. If you do, you’ll end up right back where you’re at now. Feeling hurt and used, while Pearce moves on with someone else.”
“Why do you keep acting like you know him so well? You met him one time.”
“I don’t need to know him. I know his type. Guys like him are all the same. Spoiled, rich guys who will do anything to get what they want. They keep secrets. They lie. They never tell you about their past. You can’t trust them.”
“I don’t think Pearce lied to me. And I don’t feel like he’s been hiding anything from me. In fact, he’s told me a lot about himself.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Did he tell you he used to be married?”
“He was married?” There’s that sick feeling again, knotting up my stomach.
“See? He’s been hiding his past. Keeping secrets. Exactly what I said.”
“When was he married? And how do you know this?
“It was in the newspaper and on TV. It was a huge wedding. It was a few years ago, right after he graduated from Yale.”
“Who was the girl?”
“Some rich socialite. Kind of an ugly girl. Skinny with really pale skin. I don’t think she ever went in the sun.”
“Why would Pearce marry an unattractive girl when he could pick anyone?”
“Because she’s rich and comes from the right family. That’s how it works with guys like Pearce. They don’t marry for love. He probably never even had sex with her. The whole marriage was a sham. A lot of rich people have fake marriages.”
“That’s really sad.”
“I guess, but the guys probably like it. They can sleep around with whoever they want and their wives don’t care.”
“I don’t think Pearce would do that.”
She laughs. “God, Rachel, you’re so naive. I’m not trying to be mean, but sometimes I think you have no idea how the world works.”
I roll my eyes. “I understand that sometimes people marry for the wrong reasons. All people, not just rich people. But that doesn’t mean Pearce is like that. I think he’d rather be single than marry someone he didn’t love.”
“Rachel. Did you not hear what I just said? Pearce married that woman. So yeah, he IS like that. He married a girl he didn’t love because she was rich and had the right last name.”
I sigh. “Fine. But he obviously realized it was a mistake because he’s no longer married to her.”
“He only divorced her because it turned out she was a lesbian. At least that’s the rumor, according to the tabloids.”
“That shouldn’t have mattered if your theory is true. You just said he didn’t need to have sex with her to be married.”
“Whatever. I didn’t say I was an expert in this.” She stands up. “Let’s go do something. You don’t want to sit here alone and depressed all day.”
“I can’t go out. I need to work on a paper and get some reading done.”
“Okay, but come over and get me if you change your mind.”
I walk her to the door. “You never told me what happened the other day with your dad. It must’ve been bad if you missed work.”
“Actually, my mom had some appointments that day and she just needed me to go over there and stay with him. I’ll see you later.” She opens the door but then stops and turns back around. “Hey, I’m sorry about Pearce. I know you really liked him. But trust me, you’re better off without him.”
She leaves, closing the door behind her. I go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. I spot the roses Pearce gave me, sitting in the plastic pitcher next to the sink. The vase he bought me is still in the trunk of his car. He was in such a hurry to leave this morning, I forgot to get the vase. He’ll probably give it to some other girl.
<
br /> I pick up the flowers to toss them out, but then put them back. I might as well keep them. I don’t get flowers very often and I can’t afford to buy them myself.
What if Pearce wasn’t breaking up with me this morning? What if he was just in a bad mood? When he got that phone call before we left, he sounded angry with whoever had called him. And he didn’t seem happy about having to go to work. So maybe his behavior this morning had nothing to do with me.
If he was just using me for sex, why did he let me spend the night? Why did he invite me for breakfast? And suggest we take a drive together?
What Shelby said is true. A man like Pearce could have a different woman every night, and it’s possible I was just one of those women. But I don’t want to believe that. The Pearce I’ve gotten to know has been caring and thoughtful and a gentleman, and it didn’t feel like an act. It felt real.
To keep my mind off him, I clean my apartment, then work on my paper. Then I call my parents, which I do every Sunday. My mom wants me to call her every day, but it’s too much. Every time we talk she tells me how I should move back home. Then I feel guilty for moving away, which I shouldn’t. This is my life and I have to live it for me, not my parents. But my mom doesn’t get that. Ever since my sister died, my mom acts like I owe it to her to live next door and be with her as her only remaining daughter. And as much as I love her, I hate that she puts that burden on me.
Today on our call, I tell her about school and then she gives me the town gossip. We always start our calls this way. After that, she starts in with her motherly advice.
“Did you get a chance to look at some other apartments?” She just asked me this the other day. Even though I only call my parents on Sundays, my mom calls me several times a week to remind me of everything I’m doing wrong and what I should be doing instead. It drives me crazy.
“Mom, I told you I’m not moving. The rent here is cheap. It’s all I can afford.”
“You’d get a lot more for the money in Indiana.”
Here we go. Let the guilt trip begin.
“I don’t live in Indiana. I live here and I like my apartment.”
“It’s not a safe area. I saw on the news last week that some girl in Connecticut got attacked while walking to school. And that was in the nice part of Connecticut. You live in a dangerous neighborhood.”
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