“Is that what this is to you?”
Leon’s forehead wrinkles, and his head drops to the side. “What?”
“This,” I say, gesturing between the two of us. “Am I just some conquest you can lord over Sebastian the next time you two run into one another?”
“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head, his black hair tumbling over his forehead. “Of course not. I mean, it is a definite perk, but I brought you home because I like you.”
A perk. Suddenly, I’m glad I didn’t eat anything for breakfast. If I had, I might have thrown it up all over his floor.
Embarrassment floods through me, burning my skin, and filling me with acid. I can’t believe I almost gave up everything for a man. When I woke up, I was in a post-sex haze. The world was rosy and aglow, awash with possibilities. But now the hangover has set in. The harsh reality of what I’ve done is catching up with me, and it has taken the form of a douche in disguise.
When I really stop to think about, Leon didn’t say much about himself the night before. He asked me questions, he let me talk, he made me feel valued and important. Perhaps, if I had taken time to turn the conversation around and ask him some questions, I would have learned he was a manipulative asshat before sleeping with him. I mean, the sex was incredible, but with the way I feel now, it was hardly worth it.
I sit on the extreme corner of the bed and slip into my heels, promising myself I won’t cry until I’m alone, until Leon can’t see. In front of him, I’m going to look strong. I’m going to stand tall and confident. I’ll bid him goodbye, perhaps even thank him for our evening together, and then leave. Easy as that.
“Grace?” Leon asks.
I hear his bare feet on the hardwood floor, and I jump up as if I’ve just heard a gunshot. I don’t want him to touch me again. I don’t think I could take it.
“I better get going,” I say, annoyed with the break in my voice. Though it was subtle enough, I doubt Leon noticed it. “We both need to get to work.”
My laptop bag is still on the living room floor where we left it after I pushed it from Leon’s shoulder. When he’d been holding me. When I still thought the two of us might be something…real. I shake my head to dispel the thoughts. I can grab it on my way out the door.
“You can shower here,” he says. “I can order a car. We can ride into the city together. It will be a lot faster than going back to your apartment.”
“I need my makeup and toothbrush,” I say, forging ahead towards the door.
“I have a spare toothbrush.”
“I can call Sebastian and tell him I’ll be a little late,” I say. “I’m never late, so it’ll be fine. Thanks for a lovely evening.”
I walk into the living room, and I can see my laptop bag on the floor. I mentally count the steps it will take to reach it and get into the elevator. Thirty, tops. I can stay strong for thirty more steps.
“If I said something to upset you, I’m sorry,” he says.
I wave a dismissive hand over my shoulder and scoop my bag from the floor. “Nope. I’m just in a hurry. I’ll probably stop and get breakfast on my way home. Know of any good bagels around here?”
“There’s a bakery two blocks straight east. We passed it walking from the subway,” he says.
I’m pushing the elevator button. It is only two floors away, and I thank God above. I watch the lights change and flash as it approaches. Twenty more seconds.
“Great, thanks.”
My vision is getting blurry. I feel so stupid. So incredibly stupid. How could I have thought he’d actually care about me? Hadn’t he made his feelings clear enough on the rooftop the night of the wedding? Company ink. That’s what I am to Leon. An office supply. I try my best not to think about the crude joke he’ll make to Sebastian next time he sees him. Probably something about double-dipping.
“Grace. Really. Can you talk to me for a minute?”
The elevator beeps, and as soon as the doors open, I step inside and hit the button. Leon is standing where I just was, his hand lifted like he was about to lay it on my shoulder.
I smile as wide as I can and lift my hand in a wave.
“Maybe later. I have to go.”
Leon’s face is confused and beautiful as the doors close between us, and I contemplate hitting the “hold door” button and giving him a chance to explain. But I don’t.
As the elevator moves down to the ground floor, I shake my head, hating that after everything, I almost let his handsome face draw me in again. But more than anything, I hate that I’m crying over him.
Chapter 11
Grace
I end up texting Sebastian and telling him I’ll be in after lunch. I’ve never been late or taken a sick day, so I’ve more than earned it. Besides, we aren’t even on speaking terms, so I highly doubt he’ll have much to say about it. He might even enjoy that I’ll be out of the office. That way we can put off the very necessary discussion about our arrangement for another day.
I pull up the hood of the fox onesie Myla gave me for my birthday and fall back on the couch, laying a clawed hand over my face. After my shower, I actually wished I had a comfortable robe I could slip into. My morning spent in Leon’s made me realize they are actually pretty nice, and the onesie is the closest thing I had.
I can’t believe I told Leon about my arrangement with Sebastian. What is he going to do with that kind of information? I thought I could trust him, but now I wouldn’t be surprised if he leaked it to some gossip site so the news could disseminate across the internet, slowly ruining Sebastian’s reputation. And mine, for that matter.
Sebastian was furious at the idea that I would tell Leon, so what would he do now that I actually had? Probably fire me. I would lose my job, Sebastian wouldn’t give me the glowing recommendation I’d need to get a job with any other banking institution in the city, and my dwindling savings account would force me back to Maryland and the farm where I’d do the books and live in my parents’ basement. Probably until I died.
There is a chance I’m being dramatic, but there is also a chance I’ve just glimpsed my future, so I stay horizontal on the couch, feeling sorry for myself. I have a few hours to wallow before I need to be at work.
I ate a bagel on the walk to the subway from Leon’s, but the pity inside of me needs fuel, so I shove my hand into the bag of cheese puffs and drop the cheesy balls into my mouth one at a time. Myla would push me off the couch and tell me to get myself together. She’d tell me to stop moping over the men in my life and take charge. But Myla isn’t here.
My phone buzzes with a new text, and it’s from my mom.
“Call me. We haven’t heard from you in a while. Love you.”
I’ve been calling less since I started living with Sebastian. It’s easier to lie to my parents when I don’t have to talk to them. How am I going to explain to them why I got fired? I was fake engaged to my boss and then fake cheated on him with the CEO of a rival bank, and he got mad and fired me. The story doesn’t exactly paint the picture of their wholesome, farm-raised daughter. My dad already hates that I live in New York City, so he’ll be all too quick to assume the city stripped me of my morals, and I need to come back to Maryland to “find myself” again. I can’t tell them. Any of it.
I drop my phone back on the coffee table and eat another handful of processed cheese. I can feel the residue coating the top of my mouth, but I’m too pitiful to walk into the kitchen and get a glass of water.
I gave up everything to take Sebastian’s deal. I subleased my apartment, risked my job, and lied to my family. And then I screwed that up. A little attention from a handsome man had me spouting out the truth like a big-mouthed geyser. Now, I have to wait and face the consequences.
An idea comes to me. I sit up suddenly, knocking the plastic container of cheese puffs onto the ground. Maybe I don’t have to wait. Maybe, like both Sebastian and Leon, I could make a plan. I could manipulate myself a slice of this pie before the whole thing gets thrown in my face.
> I could go to Sebastian and tell him I don’t want to go through with our plan anymore, however, for the price of a glowing recommendation, I’ll keep my mouth shut and move along. With Sebastian Wayde’s name on the top of my resume instead of my marriage license, a lot of doors in the finance industry would be open to me. Then, by the time Leon spreads what he knows, it won’t matter anymore. I’ll be gone, no longer associated with the company, and Sebastian will be able to dismiss the rumors as just that—rumors.
For the first time since Leon’s callous comment, I feel in control. I can make this situation work for me. I just need to get out of this onesie and get to work.
My phone buzzes again, and I assume it’s my mom, following up her text with a call just to see if the reason I didn’t answer her text is because I didn’t hear my phone. I answer my phone without looking to see who it is.
“Hello,” I sing-song.
“Grace?”
I stand up as though Sebastian is standing in the room with me rather than just on the other end of the phone. “Um, hi.”
“You sounded chipper.” He says it like an insult. “I almost didn’t recognize your voice.”
“Sorry I’m late,” I start. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning, but I’m headed in now. I actually need to talk to you about something.”
“I have a meeting across town in an hour. Whatever you need to say, you better say it now.”
I look down at my fuzzy white belly and red furry feet. I’d imagined having this conversation in my take charge black dress and killer red heels. I’d imagined my hair pulled back in a tight bun with my bright red lipstick on. I was going to look like a deadly assassin, there to take charge and get what’s mine. But I suppose this will work, too.
“Okay,” I stumble, wishing I’d had more time to prepare this speech. “It is about our…arrangement. Things have become complicated, and while I appreciate your offer, I think it would be best if—”
“I’m willing to make you a new offer.”
I stop talking, listening to the crackle on the other end of the line, wondering if I really heard what I thought I had.
“What?”
Sebastian sighs, never one to suffer a fool. “If you will come back on board, I’ll up your offer.”
After our fight in the limo and our lack of communication the day before, I assumed Sebastian would have been all too willing to send me packing. An offer of more money was certainly not on my radar. And really, it isn’t very appealing, either.
“I don’t need more money, Sebastian,” I say. “Again, I’m grateful for your trust in me, but this has become more than I’m willing to deal with, and I think it would be best if—”
“Partner,” he interrupts, his usually cool tone a bit harried. “I’ll make you a partner at Wayde Bank.”
I fall back on the sofa, my heart in my stomach. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but I can’t find the words. Partner. Partner. I repeat the word over and over in my head, rolling it around, testing it out.
“You expressed hopes of moving up the ranks when we hired you here,” he continues. “Everyone agrees you do great work, so they can’t deny you’ve earned the position, whether we’re married or not. Marry me, and once it’s official, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Leon’s face flashes in my mind, and I shake my head, dispelling the image. I wanted him. Or, rather, the idea of him. I liked the thought of having a man to come home to. A kind, handsome man who I could talk about my day with and curl up in bed with. For a moment, I’d thought that man could be Leon, but now I knew better.
Then, my mind catches another snag. Leon.
My plan to avoid the serious repercussions of Leon knowing about our arrangement involved me getting away from Wayde Bank before Sebastian learned the truth, so I can’t very well become a partner with this kind of information hanging over my head. It could ruin everything. And suddenly, my resolve to be a badass femme fatale who takes what is hers regardless of the consequences, crumbles.
“Sebastian,” I say, closing my eyes and running the plastic claws of the fox costume down my face. “I have to tell you something.”
“I need to leave in twenty minutes.”
He’ll probably hang up on me in the next minute, so that won’t matter. “I told Leon Knight about our arrangement.”
There is silence on the other end of the line, and my heart is beating so loud I can hear it. Sebastian probably can too.
“I already know that,” he says slowly.
“What?” I ask, wondering how the information could have gotten to him so quickly.
“At the wedding,” he explains. “You told Leon everything Saturday night. I know.”
“No, I didn’t,” I almost shout. “I told you in the car that night I didn’t tell him. You didn’t believe me?”
“Not really,” he admits with a humorless chuckle. He pauses and then. “Wait, so you told him since then? After our fight?”
I don’t get into the details because he doesn’t need to know how far I let things go, but I tell Sebastian I had some wine in me—not enough to start spilling big secrets, but he doesn’t need to know that—and told Leon everything.
“So, if that changes your mind about the offer, I understand.”
Maybe going back to the farm won’t be the worst thing in the world. I’ve always enjoyed the fresh air out there. I could take a restock of my life, maybe find a nice local job that will utilize my degree. I wouldn’t have to work on the family farm forever. I could do it just until I get my feet on the ground.
Even as I try to convince myself going back to Emmitsburg wouldn’t be as bad as it seems, there is a voice in the back of my head, screaming at me to do whatever it takes to stay in the city. Lie! Strip! Kill!
Sebastian lets out a quick, angry puff of air. “Considering I thought you’d already told him, it doesn’t exactly change my plan, though I am more than a little annoyed you shared the details of our arrangement after I expressly disapproved of doing so.”
Expressly disapproved? He sounds like a fancy version of my father, and like teenage Grace would have done, I roll my eyes.
“We can deny any rumors that might arise,” he continues. “As long as we present a happy, unified front to my mother and the press, Leon’s insistence otherwise will come off sounding jealous. It will do more damage to his reputation than ours.”
“You think so?”
He hums. “My mother saw photos of us arriving at the wedding this weekend and wants to meet you. She thought we made a lovely couple.”
“Oh, um, that’s nice,” I say, my voice rising slightly in a question.
“More than nice,” he says. “Unprecedented. She has never liked a single woman I’ve dated and has never expressed an interest in meeting them. Somehow, the little she knows about you has convinced her you could be a good match.”
The day has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and I feel like I have whiplash. I went from wanting to be with Leon to hating him, from wanting to end things with Sebastian to becoming a partner at Wayde Bank.
This morning, I’d been willing to take a chance on real passion and love by giving up on my deal with Sebastian, and now I’m looking into chasing my career and turning over two years of my life. Two years during which time I could have met a man and moved towards starting a family. Two years during which time I could still meet the man of my dreams—but be unable to go after him because of my deal with Sebastian.
Am I willing to face that possibility? Am I willing to not feel the way I did waking up in Leon’s arms this morning for another two years, at least?
“Well?” Sebastian asks, annoyance creeping into his voice. “Do you have a decision? I have other things to do today, and—”
“Yes.”
The word is out before I can second-guess it. Before I can hesitate and change my mind.
“Yes?” Sebastian clarifies. “You accept?”
Why chase after wh
at-ifs when a sure thing is right in front of me? Why wait around for a man who may or may not appear when I could make my lifelong career dream come true now? Love isn’t the only way to find happiness. For the next two years, I can find fulfillment in my work. I can find fulfillment in a job well done. And, for the next two years, I can do my utmost to pretend last night with Leon never happened.
I take a deep breath, place a fox-clawed fist on my hip, and nod my head. “I accept.”
Chapter 12
Grace
Six Weeks Later: August
Having the first time Myla has ever been in Sebastian’s penthouse also be on the day of our wedding is clearly a mistake. I’m standing in front of a full-length mirror in the bedroom in nothing but a plain white slip and a garter, waiting for Myla to get my wedding dress from the closet.
“Did you get lost?” I call, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
A hairdresser came to the penthouse this morning and styled both of us. Mine is a loose bun gathered at the base of my neck, strands of wavy hair effortlessly tucked into the knot, and finished with a small branch of baby’s breath. It’s beautiful, but for my actual wedding, I’d want my hair to be down, tumbling over my shoulders in long beachy waves. Everything about this fake wedding is the exact opposite of what I’d want, really. Doing that helps it feel like I’m not ruining the wedding I one day hope to have with this sham one.
Myla stumbles out of the closet with the garment bag thrown over her shoulder. “I actually did. That closet is huge. And it’s all yours?”
I nod. “All mine.”
“I’m green with envy,” she says. “I mean, you’ve seen my shoebox of an apartment. You know what I’m working with.”
“It’s a fine apartment,” I argue.
She shrugs. “I guess, but this? This is heaven.”
Part of the reason I didn’t want to show Myla the penthouse is because I knew she’d react this way. Myla has always been a fan of anything shiny and new, and Sebastian’s penthouse is nothing if not both of those things. When I go to her apartment and complain about living with Sebastian and the awkward tension always thick in the air, it’s easier for her to sympathize with me when she doesn’t picture me sleeping in a four-poster bed with a private Jacuzzi tub in the next room over, and sliding glass doors that open onto a private balcony. But now that she has seen my living arrangement, I’m afraid she’ll never take me seriously again.
The Triplet Scandal - A Billionaire's Babies Romance (Scandalous Book 3) Page 11