“I don’t care what changed,” Jason snapped. “Dump her. You have to distance yourself from her so we can rework this story in your favor. Don’t speak to her unless we approve it, and remind her that she signed a confidentiality agreement.”
“Forget it!” I shouted. “I’m not doing it, and you can’t make me.”
Jason started to say something about Tanya, but I cut him off. “Shut up! I don’t take orders from you. I’ve had enough of this shit, and I’m not doing it anymore.”
“You’re not doing it anymore is right, buddy,” Jason fired back. “Take it from me. The whole contract depended on the press thinking she was a good girl. They had to believe you were good enough to get yourself a good girl. Now that’s all toast. They will paint her in a bad light and start to tear down her good girl image. She’s poison for you.”
“You cocksucker!” I thundered. “I’ve done everything you said. I’ve bowed and scraped. You’ve made me a laughing stock in front of the whole world. Well, this is my goddamn life! Do you hear me? Forget it.”
“Do you want me to come over there and do it??
? Jason asked. “Are you too pussy-whipped to dump her? I’ll do it for you.”
I brought my fist down on the desk again. “No! Are you listening to a word I said? Yes, I heard you, and now you’re gonna listen to me. I won’t do it. I won’t go through with this, so just forget it. You can’t make me. Do you know what you’re asking? You want to ruin my life even more than it’s already been ruined. I never should have listened to you. I never should have gone through with this in the first place. I would have been a lot better off.”
“You’re damn right about that, brother,” Jason replied. “We should have gotten you a nice homely spinster instead of a hottie. We all knew this was a bad idea, but you had to have her. You had to have somewhere to stick that dick of yours, and now you gotta pay the piper. If you don’t have her gone within the hour, I’m coming over, and I’m bringing Tanya with me. Understand?”
“Don’t you dare,” I snarled. “I’ll be the one to handle this situation.”
“How are you gonna handle it, if you don’t throw her out?” Jason asked. “You could wind up making it even worse.”
“I said I’ll handle it, and I will,” I told him.
I threw the phone across the room with all my might, and I didn’t bother to hang up first. Those fuckers! They got me into this situation. Now, when I finally developed real feelings for Gabi and wanted to take her for my very own, they wanted me to end it.
Well, I wouldn’t do that. So, the tabloids thought she was a bad girl. They thought we screwed around in the coat closet. Why shouldn’t we? We were married, weren’t we? We could do it wherever we wanted, and no one had anything to say about it.
Whatever I did, I would not dump her. I would not throw her out on the street. I would not take her ring back or anything else I gave her. My hand landed on the hard lump in my pocket. If the public needed to think Gabi was a good girl, what better way than to make her my wife—my real wife?
Everybody thought she was pregnant. I would make it all right. I would show the world how much I really loved her. I would let them know how happy I was we were having a baby.
I paced around my office until I calmed down. I retrieved my phone and put the pieces together. I didn’t care. I could get a new phone any day of the week. A broken phone only meant I wouldn’t have to field any more calls from those louts—at least not until I got this business worked out.
I snapped open the box one more time to take a look at the ring. It really was stunning, far nicer than the one I gave her at the wedding. I sat down in my office chair. I couldn’t face her angry about this. I had to make this the happiest day of her life. I couldn’t let her know I ever even thought about breaking up with her.
I calmed myself down the rest of the way by imagining the look on her face when she saw me on my knee at her feet. She would try to smile, she was so happy, but her mouth would twist up with pent-up sobs, sobs of joy. She would put her arms around me, and I would sweep her off her feet.
18
Gabriela
I listened to Gray’s office door. I listened right up until I heard him say, “I’ll be the one to handle this situation.”
I didn’t need to hear any more. So, he wanted to handle this situation. I was the situation, and he would handle it. If anybody was going to kick me to the curb, it better be him. Well, I wouldn’t stick around to give him a chance.
I staggered across the living room to the bedroom. I couldn’t look at those roses now. I couldn’t look at anything without a pang of regret stabbing my heart. I had to get out of here. He would end the contract. No matter what he said about caring for me, his bottom line came first. I always understood that.
He must have told his team I got pregnant. What an idiot I was for not using some kind of birth control. How could I have been so stupid? I only cared about hopping in the sack with a hot guy. I never gave a thought to the consequences.
Everything in that room made me want to cry, but the roses made me mad. He shouldn’t have done that. That was a low blow. He shouldn’t have filled my head with a bunch of nonsense about caring about me, either. That and the roses and the jewelry and everything else were just his ways of flattering the pants of a girl. He’d done it a million times before. He figured out what I most wanted to hear and see and feel, and he gave them to me. In exchange, I gave him my body, and I got exactly what I deserved.
I didn’t want anything in that room. I sloughed off the bathrobe and pulled on the same suit I wore for my first job interview. I showed up here with nothing, and I would walk out with nothing. I refused to take anything Gray or his team gave me.
They wanted to get rid of me? I was happy to go. I didn’t need this. I would make a life for myself somewhere else. I could get a job as an accountant just about anywhere but here. I would go somewhere no one ever heard of J P Johnson. Someplace like that must exist on this planet.
I kicked my Manolos into the closet and brought out my own scuffed old pumps. I didn’t put them on, though. They would make too much noise on the tile floor. I would sneak out, so Gray didn’t hear me. If he heard me leaving, he would want to talk about it. The last thing I needed was a big, ugly scene.
Why talk about it? It was over. He wanted me gone, and I wanted to be gone. I would make it simple for everybody. They could find some other stupid girl to be Gray Donovan’s bride.