by Violet Blaze
I'm immediately suspicious.
We head outside and climb in the Hummer fronted limo, the door closing softly behind us, classical music trilling in the background. Walter wastes no time pouring champagne and passing out strawberries and chocolate.
“You look stunning tonight, Della,” he tells me, a self-assured smile taking over his mouth. When he tweaks his lips like that, he almost—almost—looks handsome, and I can see why I had a teensy crush on him for the first few weeks.
But after Rhoden?
Rhoden's smile is this cocksure smirk that wrecks his face into dangerously sexy angles, that pours lust with each word, and draws me like a moth to flame, a moth that can't wait to be burned.
“I was thinking dinner tonight at La Genevoise,” he says, naming the nicest restaurant in town. They have waiting lists that stretch for months, just to get a reservation for two, three Michelin stars, and a celebrity chef. But the Virgils? There's always a table waiting for one of the royal family.
“Sounds lovely,” I say, suddenly aware that this could be the last dinner like this that I ever have. After this, there's no more money, no designer clothes, no Range Rovers, no fancy parties.
I take a deep breath.
I am so ready to handle that.
Honestly, I think I'll take what money I have left in my bank account and go back to school for web design. I want to keep pursuing my blogging, and I want to be able to design a killer website. I should have enough to get my bachelor's and take care of the baby while I build my reader base up. I've decided the date with Rhoden Richards could go a long way to making that happen. I'm going to milk every second of that date, post photos, blog about it, live Tweet while it's happening. But I'm not going to tell the world who the father of my baby is. No way.
“Della,” Walter says, snapping me out of my reverie. He's still smiling, holding up a strawberry to my mouth. Things get really awkward when I don't lean forward and take it. After a minute, Walt drops the fruit back on the tray and wipes his hands on a moist towelette that he pulls from his pocket. Hmm. “Is everything alright?” he asks me, but all I can do is shrug and smile. I'm not ready to tell him yet, not in this car, trapped together like this.
I want to wait until we get to the restaurant, at least.
But then again, I'm not a very lucky girl.
“Della,” he repeats again as I keep smiling that faux smile of mine. “Your father and I had a long talk this morning.”
Oh. Shit.
“About?” I ask casually, resisting the urge to reach down and cup my belly.
“I understand you're having reservations about our engagement?” Walt continues to smile at me as the car glides through the glittering lights of the city, raindrops falling gently on the roof. The violin coos in my ear through the speaker by my head as I try to figure out how to respond to that.
“I … what exactly did my father say to you?” I ask as I reach up and check to see if my auburn curls are behaving in their fancy up do. I hardly ever put my hair up, but I felt like trying something new today. So far, so good.
Well, in the hair department anyway.
Can't much speak to the rest of the evening yet.
“Della, if there's something you're worried about, I'm sure we can work it out.”
“Walter—” I begin, but in typical Walter fashion, he interrupts me.
“I understand that I haven't been … as attentive as I should've. But I'm planning to rectify that.” Walter digs into a pocket on his slacks and pulls out a set of shiny silver keys. “These,” he says with a dashing smile, “are all yours.”
I reach out and take the keys, examining them in a numb fog before I glance up at him. Huh? Keys? Keys to what?
“I've bought us a new condo,” Walter says as my mouth drops open and I sit there in stunned silence. “We'll move in together next weekend. I've already spoken to my media contacts. Our happy news will go out to the public on Sunday.”
“I …” Wow. This whole thing is really snowballing downhill and fast. Did my dad not tell him I was pregnant with another man's child? “Walter, this,” I gesture at the champagne, the strawberries, the keys, just … everything, “is too much. I … appreciate it, I do.” I try to hand the keys back, but he doesn't extend his hand to take them. “But,” here I gather my courage and my breath, lifting my chin up and straightening my spine, “I can't accept any of it. I think there's a more deserving girl out there for you. I'm sorry, but I can't marry you.” I slide the ring off and then cup it in my hand with the keys.
Walter still makes no move to take the items, still smiling that debonair smile at me.
“Della, we'll work well together. Your family and mine are perfect fits for one another.” Your family and mine, not you and me. I sigh.
I didn't want to do this, but … I'd be shocked if my dad didn't tell him eventually anyway, especially after he hears how I turned Walter down tonight.
“Walter, I'm pregnant.” I look him in the eyes, fully accepting the shame of having cheated on him. That was my bad, and I made a mistake.
For the first time since we climbed into the car, his smile falters a little.
“Who's the father?” he asks, and that question is so loaded, I feel like I've just taken a shot to the chest. I think of Rhoden's buddy and decide that, just in case, I'll keep my mouth closed on the subject.
“Doesn't matter,” I whisper as I fold my hands in my lap and stare at my bare knees. “The point is, I can't marry you. I'm sorry it took me so many weeks to tell you.”
“If it's because of the baby, I don't care,” Walter says and I feel my head jerk up of its own accord. “I can have my doctor take care of it for you, or,” he continues as my eyes bulge out of my head, “you can put me on the birth certificate. How far along are you? We'll simply move the wedding up and claim it's my child.”
I gape at him, my skin breaking out in goose bumps.
“Walter … the real father deserves a chance to see his child. Even if he wants nothing to do with me,” I add under my breath. If Walter hears the emotion in my voice, he doesn't acknowledge it. Instead, he lifts up a second flute of champagne and takes a drink.
“How far along are you?” he asks me again, but suddenly, I don't want to tell him.
“I can't do this,” I say, scooting a few inches back on the seat. “Look, I'm so sorry for everything. This isn't how I intended things to happen.”
“How. Far. Along.” Walter leans forward and grabs my wrist in strong fingers, sending a spike of alarm through me. His blue eyes are as calm as a summer sky, but his mouth is tight, his smile sliding off his chin like it's melting. Suddenly, I feel like I'm choking on the scent of his cologne. Walter gives my wrist a rough shake that jars my elbow and scares the crap out of me. It's not a rough movement necessarily, but it's got the promise of violence.
Maybe Rhoden was right … I think, but I don't give into the fear.
“It doesn't matter, Walter. I can't marry you.”
The smile comes back to his face, but it isn't at all pleasant.
“Della, I've been searching for the right woman for years. You fit all the criteria: your family is rich, your stepmother comes from old money, but your father's a self-made man with a company that could be very, very useful to me. You grew up poor, but you've been trained in polite society.” His smile gets even wider and my heart starts to beat in my throat like a trapped bird. “You've got a clean background, and you're pretty enough, but not garish, the perfect woman to rise through the ranks of politics with.” I try to pull my wrist away, but Walter won't let me. “Besides, a big girl like you, that's the perfect way to gain me points with my shareholders, the board, and the public. Much better than strapping a stick thin model to my arm. And a baby? We can work that to our advantage.”
Walter jerks me closer as I sit there, frozen in shock, and try to make sense of the situation.
What the hell is happening here?!
“Now,” Walter releases me
and sits back against the leather seat. “Who's the father? Is this the man you're planning on leaving me for?”
“He doesn't matter,” I say, seriously considering leaping out of the car at the next light and taking off down the sidewalk. Clearly, the man is nuts. “It's not about him.”
“Fine then. How far along are you?” I can't do anything but stare. When we pull up in front of the restaurant and Walter sighs, I jump. “I suppose this conversation can wait until later.” The door opens, the driver holding it wide for me as Walter stares at me and then smiles again. “Shall we?” he asks as I climb from the car in shock.
I'm not sure I speak to him the rest of the night.
When I get out of the limo back at my apartment complex, I make sure to leave the keys and ring on the seat before taking off into the lobby.
The next morning, I find them waiting on my counter for me.
“He broke into your place?!” Ariana practically shouts, pausing in her baby clothes browsing spree. I think it's a little early to be shopping for outfits, but I don't have the heart to tell her that. I'm just hoping everything will be okay, that these outfits she's buying will end up having a purpose. “Did you call the cops?”
“On the richest man in the city? The state? The Virgil family is like the thirtieth richest family on the entire planet. What was I going to say anyway? That he left a bajillion dollar wedding ring and a pair of keys to a new condo on my countertop? Ariana, I'm freaking out. I broke up with him and he didn't take it at all seriously.”
“This is … I didn't expect this,” she says with a sigh that makes her forehead crinkle. “What are we going to do?” I smile because at least she's on my side, like always. It's not what are you going to do, but what are we going to do. I love that about her.
“I have no clue. Honestly, I'm hoping he's going to forget about me in a couple weeks and move on. I'm not sure what else I can do. I put the ring and the keys back in an envelope and had a courier drop them off at his office. We'll see how that goes.”
“Maybe Reagan will sweep in and take your place?” Ariana says with a false laugh. I stare up at her, across the racks of baby clothes and I'm not smiling.
“Did you hear me when I read you back the list he gave me? She doesn't fit his perfect criteria. Her father's in jail for embezzlement, and she's got a serious record of shoplifting. Plus, she dated that famous basketball player and got into a domestic dispute with him—on national TV. But I wish.”
“This is … unreal. Who says something like that?” I drop my head to the rack and rest my forehead against the cool metal. This shopping trip was supposed to help me get out for the day, relax a little. Instead, I can barely even see straight. I was so weirded out last night that I didn't sleep, just sat in bed and replayed the bizarre conversation with Walter. “This is so outside the realm of reality, Ariana. I think he's clinically insane.”
There's a long pause as Ariana takes a breath and processes the information.
“When are you going to tell Rhoden about the baby?” she asks as I sigh and wish I could bang my head into the metal bar a few times. But then the other people in the store would think that I was the crazy one.
“Our NFL date is right after Thanksgiving. I'm going to use the publicity to boost my blog reads, so I can actually get this career of mine off the ground. Even if through some miracle, my dad turns the company around and makes money, I'm not taking a single cent from him ever again.”
“You go, girl!” Ariana says cheerfully as my phone buzzes and I take it out to find another call from Hal. She's seriously the only person in that family that I care to talk to. Just not right now. I need a few days to process things. “I like this idea, even if I kind of hate Rhoden right now. I can't believe he said what he said to you. What a jerk.”
“At least he's not crazy like Walter,” I say and this time I do laugh. It's a nervous laugh though, and it doesn't make me feel at all better. “But honestly, now I'm second-guessing myself. What if I tell him and somehow Walter finds out? Rhoden could lose everything. This was what I was trying to avoid in the first place. I think I've just royally screwed everything up, Ariana.”
“Oh, honey,” she says, coming around the rack of clothes and folding me into her arms. “We'll figure this out together. We've gotten through way worse than this before.” I know she's referring to my mother, and she's right. That was worse. We were just little kids then, but Ariana helped me through that. I know she'll be here with me through this, too. “We get to have babies together! I mean, we like literally conceived these suckers on the same night. How cool is that?”
“That is pretty freaking cool,” I say with a sniffle. “Now I just have to pray that Walter doesn't have an assassin murder me before my due date.”
Ariana laughs, but it dies away quickly and then we're left standing in silence.
“Thanksgiving at my place?” she asks because there's no way in hell I'm eating at my father's place this year. The place that belonged to my mother, auctioned off to the highest bidder, just like the Adders. I hate my fucking dad in that moment.
“Yeah, hun, that sounds great. Thank you.”
Vegan turkey it is then, I guess.
I'm already looking forward to it.
Guess what, guys? I have a super awesome surprise to share with you … only you'll have to wait. I'll be making my big announcement after my upcoming date with Rhoden Richards! Yep. Remember that? I was accidentally selected (thanks, Ariana, for stealing my credit card!) for the Win a Date With an NFL Player contest to support the Dr. Susan Love Research Foundation which studies not just the causes for breast cancer, but also searches for a cure.
While I was initially unsure about accepting the prize (if you don't know, my father Reuben Garland was the current owner of the Arcata Adders at the time of the contest), I've been bullied by my best friend into accepting and have decided to make the most of it.
For our date, Rhoden and I will be attending a fundraiser at the Virgil Center for the Performing Arts. Mr. Richards has graciously agreed to offer autographs and pictures for $5 a person—100% of the proceeds will be donated to local schools in an effort to expand music, dance, theater and art programs in the area. Woo hoo! I hope you show up to support us and raise tons of money for our local kids.
BTW, I'm going SLEEVELESS again! Ahh! I realized in these past few weeks that trying to hide from the reality of something doesn't make it go away (yes, I'm totally getting metaphorical here). But guess what? I also realized that by trying to hide parts of my body I didn't like, I was only drawing attention to them.
I'll be wearing a rainbow print dress from Kierstin Bowlin's new collection—and it is super freaking cool. I hope you think so, too, because after the fundraiser, Rhoden and I will be heading off for dinner at a local Arcata restaurant called Silver Waters. I'll be giving away a Rhoden Richards signed football on my page, so don't forget to enter the contest.
For the most part, Walter leaves me alone, although he does send the keys and the ring back to my place again. I leave them in the envelope and toss them aside. If worst comes to worst, I guess I can sell the ring off and put my kid through school one day. If the jerk won't take the hint, what else am I going to do?
After a few days of ignoring Hal's phone calls, I give in when she shows up at my place and bangs on the door with her fist.
“Halcy,” I say as I crack it open and she shoves her way through, getting Little Dick too excited for his own good. Wisdom thumps her foot against the bottom of her cage in irritation. My little sister sweeps into the room like a whirlwind, tossing a series of shopping bags on my floor and spinning to face me with her cheeks fluffed out and her lips pursed.
“How could you not tell me?” she asks and right away, I know that Ariana's told her something, maybe about Rhoden or Walter or the baby. Maybe all of it. Hal flicks blond hair over her ear and glares at me with the same bright blue eyes we both inherited from our father. “Rhoden Richards is Lion Mask Guy? And
you slept with him twice more after that? Why am I out of the loop on these things? Del, if you didn't want Walter, then why didn't you just say so?”
“It's good to see you, too, Hal,” I tell her as I take a seat at the dining table with a sigh. “I see you and Ariana have been talking …”
Hal waves her hand dramatically.
“She let the Lion thing slip, and then I ended up needling the rest out of her. Girl, things are a mess at home. Mom and Dad are freaking out, and Walter's been there like everyday.” A chill goes down my spine. What the hell, Walt? Let it go already. I can see—in a very weird, detached sort of way—how his whole list thing works. But I'm not exactly a one in a million catch. Surely he can find another girl like me somewhere? Why go through all this trouble?
“Did she tell you that I was pregnant?” I ask and Hal's mouth flies open in shock. Her squeal makes my ears bleed as I cringe back and she comes flying around the table to toss her arms around me.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. This is the best news ever.” There's a long pause where she stands strangling me with her skinny arms and then pulls back to raise an eyebrow. “Walter's?”
“God no,” I snort and my sister's brows climb even higher.
“How do you know it's not his?” she asks and I feel myself blushing.
“We still haven't had sex,” I admit and Hal gapes at me.
“He gave you that ring … and you still haven't hopped into bed with the guy? Holy shit.”
“Hal, this isn't exactly helping,” I tell her as she taps a finger to her lips and then gapes at me as a lightbulb seems to go off in her head.
“It's Big Dick's baby,” she says and I cringe again. God, I hate that nickname. “Wow. Wow. Wow.”
“Again, not helping,” I tell her as she takes a few steps back and plops into the chair on the other side of the table. “Have you told him?”
“Nope. I'm going to after Thanksgiving, on our date.”