And once again, he knocked up another one of his charity case girlfriends. Talk about being fertile. He was virile enough to impregnate the whole town. It’s a good thing I didn’t sleep with him that night or I’d be lugging around a diaper bag instead of a Coach patent-leather clutch. It makes me cringe to think he almost turned me into what I hate—a dim-witted woman, barefoot and pregnant, dependent on her man. That’s something I never want to be.
My mother taught me well. All men are jerks. Some are worse than others, but ultimately none of them truly know how to make a woman happy. Sure, things might start off promising. There’s always the honeymoon phase, but it doesn’t last. The problems of real life infiltrate every lovestruck cocoon and annoyances crop up. Pretty soon, trivial things turn into major problems. Compatibility is the stuff of legend. It doesn’t exist. Men get bored and check out while women get fat and keep busy. Eyes wander. Crankiness replaces conversation, and couples split up and move on to greener pastures. While people may say forever at the altar, nobody really means it. A woman needs to look out for her own best interests by putting herself first. It’s bad enough to have to endure the pain of a mutual separation, but it’s murder when the cord can’t be severed because of financial reasons. My mom told me to never put myself in a situation like that. I was always reminded that a happy woman is one who is able to support herself and can walk away from a man at any time. Her message was clear. Never get trapped. Never give in.
But she never said anything about revenge.
***
It’s time for them to face the music. No more waiting around.
“You’re sure they’re back?” I ask Ryan as he fiddles with the paperclip holder on my desk.
“Yeah. I was parked in that field all night. I saw them get out of Eric’s truck. Woo fucking hoo,” he responds a little too nonchalantly for my taste.
“And you’re positive no one noticed you?” That’s all I need is for him to get careless now at this stage of the game.
“Ha, I only wish they did,” he grumbles, slouching down even farther on the folding chair. “Man, I’d like to have another go around with Eric. Give that prick what he has coming to him.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” I warn him, my tone lethal. “You’re not to go anywhere near them, you hear me? You got off easy the last time when neither of them pressed charges. I don’t think they’ll be so generous this time around if they catch you on their property.”
“Oh, so it’s ‘their’ property now, is it?” Ryan smirks at me, spreading his legs apart even more. “I didn’t think giving up was your style.”
“Sit up straight. And pull your pants up while you’re at it. You look like a thug.” I glare at him. If he thinks he’s going to goad me into an argument, he’s sadly mistaken. He’s baiting me, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I know what’s really bothering him. “Was Will there too?”
“Yeah,” he says, rubbing a hand across his stubble.
“Anyone else?” I shuffle through some papers, pretending like I’m only half listening.
“His parents…that guy Jack and his wife…Ben and some chick.” He plays it off like it’s nothing, but he’s not that smooth. His voice definitely rises when he says Ben’s name.
“How did they react to seeing Will?” I ask while clicking through my emails. “I bet he made quite an impression.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan responds almost too quickly.
“I don’t know…I mean, he is charming and if I dare say easy on the eyes, especially up close.” I can’t resist smiling as he squirms uncomfortably on the tiny chair.
“Knock it off, Lauren.” He eyes me warily. Good, I have him on the defensive—just where I want him to be.
“If you say so, Ryan. I mean, he had both genders falling all over him in L.A. I even saw him with the sugar daddy he was shacking up with, but I think that’s over now. I bet he’s back on the market just looking for someone new.” I sit back in my leather chair as I deliver that particular dagger to his heart. Ryan thinks he’s so unaffectedly jaded. Please, he’s like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Why were you there all night? You didn’t have to stick around.”
“I had some things I needed to take care of,” he replies glumly.
“Like?” I challenge him, waiting to see if he’ll finally admit to what I’ve known all along.
“Their comings and goings, if they needed to rush Ivy to the hospital in the middle of the night. I thought you’d want to keep tabs on her.” He’s bluffing, and it kind of makes me feel sorry for him—almost.
“So were there any late-night movements?” I click my heels in anticipation on the plastic mat surrounding my desk, fully expecting him to lie to me.
“No,” he says sharply, his eyes trained on my face.
“Wow, none at all?” I coax, acting like I believe him.
“Nope.” His leg starts to twitch, giving him away.
“Well, I’m sorry you sat in your Jeep all night for nothing.” I glance at him like he’s someone to be pitied and he looks like he wants to leap over the desk and strangle me. Just the reaction I was hoping for. And he thought he was going to rile me up? Huh, think again.
“Yeah, me too,” he remarks, glaring back at me. But it’s too late. He should’ve guarded his secret more carefully if he didn’t want someone with half a brain to figure it out.
“I haven’t seen you hanging around with Ben lately. Did you two have a fight or something?” I tilt my head innocently, full of sisterly concern.
“You could say that,” he mutters, dodging the question.
“Oh yeah, I think Dad mentioned something about you and the swim team and having his brother fired. Boy, you really don’t fool around, do you? I guess you learned from the best.” I give him a wink, letting him off the hook for now.
But he knows I have leverage on him and I intend to use it if he gets out of line again. I just wish he didn’t always go for the jugular instead of stepping back and counting to ten. He’s too impulsive for his own good, and he’s going to pay for that someday. He just better not cross me in the meantime. I need to keep him on his toes and not get lulled into taking him for granted. We nearly got into a shitload of trouble when Will exposed that fake newspaper story we’d concocted all to protect his ass. He better not force me to go out on a limb for him again because I won’t. From now on, I’ll let Ryan clean up his own messes.
“Are we done?” he asks sullenly, getting to his feet.
“Oh yeah, we’re done.” My eyes pierce his, sending him a clear message of who’s in charge.
He shuffles out of my office, purposely dragging his feet. I close my eyes and sigh. What a loser.
But I have more important things to think about, like getting myself over to Eric’s house.
Chapter Fifteen
Eric
God, does it feel good to wake up in my own bed.
I stretch carefully, not wanting to disturb Ivy. I watch as the sunlight catches her hair that’s sprawled across my chest. I soak in these precious moments, listening to the rise and fall of her every breath. She’s back in my arms. Catastrophe diverted—for now.
Ever so slowly, I sit up and run my hand under the covers. The sheet is warm from her body, but I don’t feel anything amiss. Hopefully it means the bleeding has stopped. I’ll have to ask her for sure when she gets up, but so far, so good. Maybe we can begin to put this episode behind us and start focusing on the positive. We have a baby on the way. We should be excited, not scared to death.
As much as I don’t want her to wake up alone after such a traumatic night, I have to get going. The garden center needs me. I have a lot to catch up on. It’s bound to be a crazy day, and I can’t waste a minute of it. Groaning as my skin comes in contact with the chilly morning air, I hurriedly toss a wrinkled sweatshirt over my boxers and root through the closet for a pair of jeans. The laundry was backed up before I left. I should really throw a load in before I head out. I don’t want Ivy to have to wor
ry about it. She needs to stay in bed.
I make my way softly down the steps with Shep at my heels. I open the door to let him out, surprised to see a thick frost covering the ground. I have to warm this place up. I glance over at the woodpile and there are only a few logs left. I’ll have to refill it before I leave. There’s just so much extra stuff I have to do now that Ivy’s on bed rest. I hope I can keep up with it all. I’ve lived here by myself for so long, but I really got used to her handling most of the household chores. It’s nice having a partner to balance things out. But I’ll just have to pick up the slack until she’s back on her feet.
Quietly, I arrange the wood in the fireplace before setting it ablaze. I gaze into the flames. I was planning on taking Ivy to the Hideaway Cliffs this weekend, but it doesn’t look like that’ll be happening anytime soon. Her condition is still too iffy to be carting her around the countryside. She could start bleeding again and we’d be miles away from the hospital. It’s better if we stay close to home. At least Doc’s in town if we need him.
I’m tempted to bring in the crib and place it at the bottom of the bed for Ivy to find when she gets up. But I really want to be there to catch the look on her face when she sees it. I can picture her examining every inch of it, pointing out all of the hand-carved details I already know by heart. Hearing her ‘ooh and aah’ over the crib would be like experiencing it for the first time through her eyes. Her reaction was the only thing I thought about as I spent hours and hours making it as perfect as I possibly could for our baby.
And I don’t want to upset her either. Things are still on the fence. Maybe it’s best to get through her first week home and make sure everything’s okay. If something does happen—God, I don’t even want to think about it—the crib will turn into a painful reminder of our loss and not the fulfillment of the promise it was meant to be. She’ll want to destroy it, just like I did, and try to erase the heartache from our lives. But I’m not giving up on this baby—not yet. And neither should she. It’s already proven to be a survivor. Our child is determined to come into this world, and I want to be there to welcome it when it does.
I hear Shep scratching at the door, begging to be let in from the cold. His insistence jolts me out of my head and back into reality. I better get a move on if I’m going to provide for this baby. I have a lot of ground I need to cover before it gets here in April, and I want to be ready. There’s no time to waste.
The last thing I want to think about is losing it all if Ivy doesn’t comply with Lauren’s demands. I had a lengthy conversation with Will on the plane when Ivy fell asleep during the last two hours of the flight. He knows what I’m expecting from him in terms of managing Lauren and keeping up with the workload. Ivy’s not to be overtaxed or overburdened in any way. He’s prepared to handle the bulk of the project while seeking Ivy’s creative input when he needs it. He briefly alluded that Lauren wanted to sensationalize Cassidy’s story but clammed up when I pressed him for details. He said it would be better if I had Ivy explain it to me, whatever that means. It doesn’t sound too promising. That’s a conversation I’d rather save for another day.
When I open the door, Shep charges in as I bend down to pick up the rolled-up copy of today’s Gazette. I’m about to turn around and go back inside when I hear someone’s footsteps crunching through the frost-covered grass from the back of the house. I groan inwardly. I’m not ready for my morning dose of Will yet. I hope he doesn’t think we’re going to sit down and eat breakfast together or something.
I brace myself as the footsteps round the corner and come face to face with Ben. He seems startled to see me standing there with my mouth open. For a second, we just stare at each other, totally at a loss for words.
“Ben, what are you doing here, man? Shouldn’t you be on your way to school?” I ask, peering at him against the glare of the sun.
“Uh, yeah…I was thinking of taking the day off to see if you could use some help catching up on everything.” He stumbles but quickly recovers. I almost buy it—almost. Something’s up, and it concerns some scheme of Will’s. That much is certain.
“I don’t think the school would appreciate you playing hooky on my account. I don’t need a truant officer busting my ass over the star quarterback not being able to play in Friday night’s game.” I tuck the paper under my arm, feeling him out.
“Do you really think it matters?” he asks, grinning like the joke is on me. “I have what you would call ‘special privileges.’”
I hate the smug look that’s plastered all over his face. He probably can do whatever he wants and get away with it. A sports hero like him is revered in this town. No one’s going to stop him if he feels like skipping class. More power to him is the general attitude. I’m torn because I could really use his help today, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of going along with his whims like everyone else.
“What’s going on? Did I miss something?” Will comes jogging around the side of the house, the wind at his heels. “Ben stopped by to see if I needed a lift to the garden center. I didn’t think Ivy would be up to working today, so I thought I’d make myself useful.”
Will is really off his game. There are so many holes I could punch in his story, it’s ridiculous. Ben is wearing the same clothes he had on last night. His truck is nowhere to be seen. And there’s no way in hell that he’d do Will a favor out of the goodness of his heart. Unless…
I don’t have a chance to question him further because a car is rumbling up the road toward the house.
“Holy shit.” Will whistles under his breath.
“Is it really who I think it is?” I ask, grinding my teeth.
“Yep, in the flesh,” Will responds, hustling to my side to get a better view. “It’s about to get ugly up in here. Ben, you might want to get away while you still can. You definitely don’t want to be on this bitch’s radar.”
“That’s for damn sure,” I groan as the car comes to a stop.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you down at the garden center.” Ben waves halfheartedly, disappearing into the woods instead of walking past the car and onto the road. Smart boy.
“Later,” Will calls out, leaning in front of me to watch him depart.
“Really, Will? A high school kid?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“He’s no kid,” he responds, unperturbed.
I roll my eyes just as Lauren glides out of her Mercedes wrapped in a white wool coat. She removes her Gucci sunglasses, settling them atop her perfectly coiffed head. She looks expensive. From her leather boots to her cashmere gloves, her whole appearance screams luxury, wealth, and power. I don’t blame Will for gulping beside me.
“Well, if it’s not the two guys I just so happen to be looking for.” She rakes her eyes over us, lingering a tad too long on the area below my belt. “Long time no see, boys.” She shuts the car door with a wallop, leaving its toasty interior behind to brave the chilly greeting she’s sure to expect.
“What are you doing here, Lauren?” I ask curtly.
“To do business, of course, silly.” She swats my chest while removing her gloves. “We have a lot of things we need to discuss.”
“Not here you don’t.” I spread my legs farther apart, blocking her access to the door. “You’re not welcome in my home.”
“Now, Eric, don’t be like that. We’re all going to have to work together and things would go a whole lot smoother if we all just got along. With poor Ivy confined to her bed, you had to have been expecting a visit from me sooner or later. How else are we supposed to get this thing done?” She bats her eyelashes at me, only provoking me further.
“Will already informed you that you’re not to have access to Ivy during all this. He’ll act as the go-between. Any message you have for Ivy, tell him. You will not be meeting with her in person. Is that clear?” I cross my arms in front of my chest, daring her to contradict me.
“Yes, he did tell me about your list of demands, but it doesn’t mean I have to agree to the
m,” she chuckles, drawing some paperwork out of her purse. “You’re in no position to tell me what to do. I have in my hands a copy of your latest bank statement. I believe you’re several weeks behind on a loan payment? You wouldn’t want me to call the manager and have him start taking the necessary steps to foreclose, would you?”
“You’re bluffing,” I retort, placing my hands on my hips.
“Try me,” she spits back.
I’m just about to tear into her when I hear shuffling behind me.
“What’s going on?” It’s Ivy. She’s out of bed and standing outside in nothing but my shirt. I instantly see red.
“Well, speak of the devil,” Lauren drawls, smirking as Ivy shivers. “Ivy, tell this Neanderthal boyfriend of yours to step aside. We have work to do.”
“I don’t think so,” I growl, stepping in front of Ivy, blocking her from view. “You’re not coming in. Don’t even think about it.”
“Eric, it’s okay,” Ivy says, catching me off guard. “She’s right. We have a lot to catch up on.”
“You can’t be serious,” I spin around, searching her eyes for some kind of explanation. “You’re in no condition to—”
“She’s a big girl. Why don’t you let her decide for herself?” Lauren advances again, causing me to lean into Ivy. “Or maybe you want to hear a little bit more about what we intend to work on. I’m sure it’ll blow your mind.”
“Lauren, don’t,” Ivy warns, and there’s no mistaking the fear in her voice.
Lauren has something on her. It’s the only reason why Ivy would so readily give in to her demands. Ivy is in no state to go head-to-head with her. It’s not a fair fight. That’s why she’s caving. It probably involves me somehow and she’s trying to protect me so that I won’t get hurt. That’s the only explanation for why she’s backing down when Lauren’s coming on so strong. She must be feeding her a line about me. But I’m not afraid to set her straight. It’s about time someone put Lauren in her place once and for all.
Meant for Me (Take Me Now) Page 13