by Lindsey Hart
“I did say we just made out.”
“And I don’t believe you. But whatever. So. Tell me. What’s his name, for starters?”
“Wade.”
“Wade what?”
I think fast to shirtless Wade. It’s the first time it’s really even registered with me that he has a last name, but sure as shit, my mind conjures it up like a magic trick. “Wade Miller.”
“Hmm. Did you look him up?”
“What?” I can’t believe I didn’t even think to creep on Wade online or on social media. A few days ago or even a few weeks ago, it would have been the first thing I did.
“Yeah. Don’t you usually look people up to double-check that they’re not murderers or anything sketchy?”
“I already established he isn’t.”
“So that puts you off your guard? There are worse things than murderers. Assholes. Trash bags. Douches.”
“Sounds like a fun list.”
Leanne whips out her phone, and I sigh inwardly. I want to warn her off of it, but I know no amount of saying anything is going to stop her. I’m just hoping there are a lot of people named Wade Miller out there.
I should have known Leanne, being the research guru she is, wouldn’t fail in her task. She lets out a little squeal and basically throws her phone in my lap. I nearly drop my glass of wine. I shoot her a puzzled look before I pick up her phone. This time, I’m the one letting out a shriek.
“No! This can’t be him!” I can see, plain as I saw that the spider in my house clearly had carnivorous designs where I was concerned, that it is indeed the same Wade.
It’s an online article from some news website. The title immediately catches my eye, and right beside it is a huge picture of him. The bold letters following the picture, a candid clearly taken or snapped without Wade’s consent or borrowed off of his social media profile or something, boldly proclaims Wade as Chicago’s newest billionaire. I scan the article quickly, my shock growing with every line I read. Basically, the story says his grandfather died and left him a huge fortune. After being hounded by the media, Wade just disappeared.
Suddenly, it all makes sense. Wade keeping strange hours and wearing black hoodies even when it’s hot out. I thought he had secrets. It turns out he does. Different kinds of secrets. He’s hiding out in the suburbs not because he likes to kill people or because he’s a criminal but because he wants to escape the media scrutiny.
Which means he’s just waiting for things to blow over.
I thought the house flipping thing made it temporary.
This puts him so far out of reach that he might as well be taking up residence on a moon made of cheese somewhere in some far-off galaxy. He lied to me. Or, at least, he didn’t tell me the truth. We slept together. He spent the night, and he made me a super nice breakfast the next morning. We slept together again after. Twice. Does that mean he had to tell me his whole life story? I guess it doesn’t, but it does mean he obviously doesn’t trust me. Or maybe he was gearing up for it. I don’t know. It’s probably not right to feel hurt, but I can’t help it.
There’s this awful, sick feeling in my stomach like I’ve just eaten a fine meal of razor blades, barbed wires, and broken glasses, and it makes me feel like maybe I’m just a distraction. Something to do while he’s hiding out. Was he going to just up and leave when he figured it was time? Would he just drop me?
I pass Leanne’s phone back to her and stand up. I must look bad because her face takes on this expression of alarm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just not feeling well, I guess. I—would you mind if—can I just be alone for a bit?”
Leanne sets her glass on the coffee table and studies me suspiciously. I’m relieved when she nods. I think she gets it. She gets why I want to be alone after I found out the guy I “made out” with isn’t who he says he is. Clearly. It’s not like Leanne not to press, so I’m glad when she just gives me a tight hug and sees herself out.
At least, I think I’m glad. After she’s gone, the silence of the house seems oppressive. I end up finishing my glass of wine. Finding out that Wade isn’t who he says he is at all isn’t a reason to waste good wine, after all.
I try to force myself to sit still, but it just isn’t happening.
I know I shouldn’t jump to conclusions or make assumptions because that leads to making bad decisions, and I’ve already made enough of those lately.
But no amount of talking myself down keeps my butt glued to the couch.
Before I even fully realize what I’m doing, I’m rushing out of the front door, thumping down the porch steps, and crossing the distance between my house and Wade’s. I’m knocking at his door—no, pounding on it—and when he answers, I shove my phone—preloaded with one of the many articles I sat and read after Leanne left—into his startled face.
“Were you ever going to tell me that you’re obscenely rich?”
CHAPTER 17
Wade
Fuck. I knew this was going to happen. I let my guard down. I told Lu-Anne my first name. My real name. And my last name is emblazoned across my shoulders. Of course she put two and two together and bingo. She decided to look me up on the internet, and she obviously found something she wasn’t expecting.
She’s more pissed than she is astounded, though I’m not sure why. I mean, I get the general gist of it, I’m just not entirely certain what her reason is exactly, out of the many possible ones.
“Uh, I think you should come in.”
Lu-Anne snatches back her phone and tucks it at her side. Her other hand is balled into a fist, and the flush on her cheeks is from anger this time. She looks like she’s going to give me a kick to the jaw again, but this time, it wouldn’t be so accidental. Sorry, my foot just slipped and hit you in the face. Actually, that wasn’t an accident. My foot hit you in the jaw because you’re an epic asshole.
“I think I’m perfectly fine out here,” she protests.
“Fine,” I hiss. “Let the whole neighborhood hear. It obviously doesn’t matter what I think or want.”
“Not right now, it doesn’t. Not when you lied to me. Yes, you lied. You didn’t tell me. Were you ever going to tell me?”
I continue standing in the doorway in the most unassuming pose I can master. I don’t want to appear angry or intimidate her. I am surprised, but now the initial shock is giving way to annoyance and slight panic. I want to keep those feelings stuffed away in the pit of my chest and not give her any real clue as to how serious this might be for me. If Lu-Anne chooses to blab this all over, I’m going to have to figure out a plan B for hiding out, and I’m going to have to come up with it fast.
“I didn’t lie to you,” I insist. “I didn’t tell you yet because we barely know each other.”
“I think we know each other fine,” Lu-Anne fumes. “You know me well enough to know what the inside of my who-ha feels like.”
“God…” I glance around, but since it’s dark, hardly anyone is out. “You know what I mean. It’s not like we’ve sat down and had a major discussion about our lives.”
“Well, those—they come later!”
“Exactly. Later.”
“But were you planning on telling me this? Ever? Or was I just a distraction for you while you hide out from the world here? I bet all those home renovations were getting pretty boring, and you wanted something else to help you pass the time.”
“That was not my intention at all.” I can see my words have pretty much zero effect on calming Lu-Anne down. She’s in a mood to rage at me, and I just hope the whole neighborhood doesn’t hear what she’s saying.
“Oh, really? I highly doubt that. You said it was your intention to flip the house, so you always planned on leaving.”
“I did also tell you, if I remember correctly, that I had no plans of leaving Chicago.”
“Right. Well, you could still disappear. Chicago is a big place. I just want to know if you were using me. Because right now, it really seems like it.”
“Ri
ght. So I came over to your place, spent the night, didn’t leave, made you breakfast, stayed after that, and left to go back to my house, which is right beside yours, of which you’re fully aware. That hardly seems like ghosting you. Sorry I didn’t leave my number. I thought you knew where to find me.” I’m getting slightly annoyed now, and it’s leaking into my voice in dry tones.
Lu-Anne’s face scrunches up as she absorbs that. “I—well—I just…”
“Sorry. I wasn’t aware we were ready for in-depth conversations of a life-changing nature. What did you expect? For me to sit down and have a heart to heart and tell you all about my life after one night? Did you expect me to pull out a ring and ask you to be my wife? Confess everything in my soul?”
Lu-Anne stares at me blankly, and I know I went too far. I take a deep breath and struggle to get my annoyance—which is quickly turning into anger—under control.
“I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m also sorry you found out this way. I don’t know what or when I was going to tell you because we barely know each other. I thought we had something good. I was into you. I am into you, but it’s been all of thirty seconds. I don’t feel like your anger in me not telling you is justified. I had no intention of disappearing on you, and I’m not the kind of guy who uses someone. I don’t expect you to know that, though, because as I said earlier, we hardly know each other. I think you’re angry and overreacting. You should go home and sleep on it, and maybe things will look differently in the morning.”
“Sleep on it?” Lu-Anne’s nostrils flare. “Everything about this was just temporary! With three billion dollars, you obviously have bigger and better things to do than me. And like, prettier women. When you finally figure your shit out and decide what you’re going to do with your life now, you could have anyone. Models. Artists. A doctor or lawyer. God. Whoever the heck you want. You could buy their lives, for god’s sake.”
“Which is something I would obviously never do.”
“I’m just saying!” She stamps her foot for emphasis.
“What you’re saying isn’t well thought out. It’s reactionary—”
“Well, you obviously think this isn’t a big deal. I guess it’s a good thing I found out about everything right at the beginning. It saves us both a lot of trouble. It for sure saves me from getting hurt when you decide to move on to loftier pursuits. Even if you let me down gently or whatever, you’d still be letting me down. A little pain now is worth saving us all the trouble of later.”
My heart, which had already been beating at a harsh pace, starts hammering my ribs. It’s beating all over the place. I realize if I can’t talk Lu-Anne down and make her understand something I don’t even fully understand yet, I might never see her again. Despite what I said about not knowing each other well, I do indeed know that never seeing her again would be a freaking tragedy. It would hurt. A lot.
“I can see you’re hurt, but I really think—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lu-Anne hisses. “I’m not interested in hearing what you think. I hope you get your life figured out and that you make it a good one. You got handed a chance most people would give anything for. I just hope you can figure out how to use it for good. And if you’re worried about me telling people you’re hiding here, don’t be. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
I wonder who might know. Did she find out alone, or was her brother or her friend or someone else over with her when she randomly decided to look me up? I’m hoping she was alone. I can only imagine how fast word will spread. I should start packing my shit right now or just leave it all, get in my car, and drive to a place where I can hide out and lay low.
“I—well—my friend knows too,” Lu-Anne hesitantly says like she can read my mind. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t tell anyone. Well, she won’t. I can promise you that. If someone finds out you’re here, it didn’t come from us. I actually do care that you know that.”
“So, you’re giving up on us? Just like that?”
Hurt sparks in Lu-Anne’s eyes, but she nods. “It’s not like that. I guess if you want to see it that way, you see it that way. I can’t change your mind, but I’m not giving up. I’m just sure this wouldn’t work now that I know you’re in an income bracket I could never, not in a thousand lifetimes, aspire to. Money can be used for some really great things, but it ruins a lot of things too.”
“So, you’re actually bailing not because you’re hurt I didn’t tell you or because you think I’d just up and leave but because you don’t have enough faith in me not to drop you or because you think I’ll become a different person because I inherited some money I never even wanted.”
“Do you realize how stupid that sounds? How could you not want money?” Lu-Anne hisses. “Everyone wants money. Like I said, you landed a one in a million chance. Or should I say, a one in three billion? Of course, you’re going to change. Of course this wouldn’t work. We were just at day one. We have zero foundation for anything. I don’t even know who you are, and you know even less about me. Sex is one thing. Everything else about life is a completely different thing.”
She stands there after her words die away like she’s waiting for me to contradict her. For me to fight for her. How can I when I know she’s right? At least about not knowing each other. I can’t make any promises when I don’t have the first thing about my life in order. I get why she’s hurt or why she might not even have enough faith in me at this point since we’re basically just strangers, but the accusation that I’d just up and leave or drop her because of the money to find someone better—well, that stings. Especially as she’s saying it to someone who has actually had this happen to him. Multiple times.
I’ve been cheated on. I’ve been dumped by girlfriends who just got bored. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of shit like that, and it’s not pleasant. I would never do the same to someone else, and I know Lu-Anne doesn’t know that, but I hoped she could have maybe seen enough of who I truly am in the brief time we’ve spent together to form even a kernel of trust that might grow into something else.
“Goodbye, Wade,” Lu-Anne whispers. I swear that right before she turns and picks her way back to her house at a measured pace, I see tears shimmering in her eyes.
She’s convinced she’s doing the right thing. Maybe she is.
Then again, maybe she’s isn’t.
I don’t shut my door until she’s back safely in her house. I realize I can’t stand out here all night like a heartsick fool, so I step back inside and lock myself in.
I don’t bother with a chair. I just sink down to the floor right beside the door and lean my back up against the wall. My head joins it a second later with a dull thud.
I might not have known Lu-Anne well, but I felt something for her, with her, that was completely different for me. I’ve never felt anything close to that with anyone else. Ever. I thought there was something unique there. Something that could have endured. Something that could have been epic. I guess sometimes you just get that feeling everyone talks about. And sometimes, it’s maybe just nonsense your dick is telling you.
Even if it wasn’t, I know I can’t just walk over to her house and make Lu-Anne change her mind. She said money ruins a lot of shit, and she’s right. Money does corrupt. It does a lot of shitty things. It does change people, most times, and most times, not for the better.
The shitty thing is, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the money, I just don’t know what the hell to do with it. I was actually fairly happy with my life before, at least most aspects of it. I liked my job. I liked working with my hands. I enjoyed construction and carpentry. I had my family, and I had a couple of good friends. I was healthy, had all the basics covered—a decent house, a decent car, job security. It was good the way it was. I don’t want to be someone else. I don’t want to be forced to be someone else.
Lu-Anne is also right. I need to figure out what I’m going to do with the money, and I need to figure it out fast because I can’t just keep hiding out here. I’m
glad I met her. I’m glad she came over here and told me off tonight. All those things she said were already on my mind, but she made it pretty obvious I can’t just ignore that shit anymore. Three billion dollars isn’t going to vanish, and I can’t just sit here and pretend I’m the same person.
Lu-Anne told me to do something good with the money.
I want to. I’m going to. As soon as I figure out what exactly it is.
CHAPTER 18
Lu-Anne
Six Months Later
“So, you never heard from him after that night you went over and confronted him?” Leanne said, dodging past a pile of dog poop right in the middle of the sidewalk.
It’s freezing out, and I can’t believe I allowed her to drag me from my nice, cozy, warm house in the middle of winter, but whatever. She was right. I did need to get out.
“Who?”
“You know who.” Leanne grins at me past the plaid scarf she wound around her neck at least eighteen times. The thing is so huge that it looks like she stole a blanket off her bed and wore it out. I kind of wish I had one myself since the wind is howling through the park she drove us to.
There is no one else walking right now. I’m not sure where the dog poop even came from. There was probably a brave soul out earlier who couldn’t be bothered to stop and pick up dog poop at the risk of freezing to death. Or maybe the shit literally froze to the sidewalk right after it was laid. It’s cold enough out. I’d believe it.
“We don’t talk about you know who.”
“I know.” She frowns at me while her breath fogs out above her head, frosting her eyelashes. I feel like mine are on the verge of freezing shut since I keep ducking down into the collar of my jacket, making my breath go straight up into my eyes. “That’s why we should. It’s been what? Six months since he left?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“And his house has sat empty all this time?”
“Yes.”