Edgar picks up his Coke and takes a slow sip, like he’s at some wine-tasting event and sampling priceless vintage rather than a sugary carbonated beverage. He takes so much time that I start to think maybe he’s not going to answer the question.
Just as I open my mouth, he says, “Because.” He exhales heavily, a man pulling his darkest secret out from the recesses of his mind. “I’m not like my father.”
I blink. His parents didn’t divorce until recently, according to the gossip mags. And I thought the family scandal was about his mom’s behavior, not his dad’s. “Uh… Can you elaborate?”
His eyebrows pull tight, his lips pressed together. He couldn’t look any unhappier. “I won’t abandon my child or neglect him, only providing food and shelter as I see fit. I’m going to give it protection and love. And I won’t tolerate anyone behaving badly toward my child, even if it’s his own—”
He does
n’t go on.
There’s definitely a story here. Edgar hasn’t acted like he grew up deprived of anything. His self-assurance and air of command speak volumes. He’s so accustomed to getting his way that he can’t even bother to raise his voice most of the time. And money—both having it and using it—has obviously never been a problem. Just look how quickly he managed to close on the penthouse!
“A child needs both parents. It’s a combo deal, Jo. And I’m a greedy man. I want my child to have everything.” Edgar leans back in his seat, his expression starting to close off. Maybe he’s decided he revealed too much. “You can be a little greedy too. Ask for more.”
It’s ironically tragic that he’s asking me to be greedy with such a guarded look on his face. He’s presenting me with things, nothing more.
“Love is all I need,” I say, wanting him to know he hasn’t yet offered the only thing I want. “It’s all I’ve really ever dreamed of. I’m just a normal person who grew up in a normal middle-class home. Materially speaking, I have everything I could want.”
“Love…” He gives me a slightly wistful smile. “People have misguided ideas about love. They think it’s this wonderful drug that can cure whatever issue you have…except it comes with a huge list of side-effects that someone spends a minute reciting breathlessly and at three times the normal speed.”
“That’s so cynical and sad. Who hurt you?”
He laughs. “I’ve never let anyone get close enough to hurt me. My life is no clichéd romantic tragedy.”
He’s deliberately misunderstanding me, although it’s obvious I’m not competing with any of his exes. But I realize he doesn’t trust me enough to let me get close. I guess I didn’t do a great job of convincing him that I’m a woman of great judgment by withholding what Aaron threatened yesterday. But that doesn’t mean Edgar’s refusal stings any less.
“Look, I need to think about this.” I repeat myself, feeling too deflated to come up with anything clever and decisive to change his mind. “It’s just too…sudden.”
“What’s so sudden about all this? You were planning on living with Aaron Korvid.”
Is that censure? “‘Planning’ is a funny word to use. You think that’s what it was? A plan of mine?”
“I thought you’d keep your end of the bargain,” Edgar says.
“Bargain’s another funny word. I never said I’d do it.” I think back on our interactions furiously, but I’m quite certain that I didn’t make any promises. “You’re the one who came up with the deal.” But even as I say it, I know he only bothered with my mess because of the baby. This is about him being a father, no more, no less. “I’ll think about it and let you know later today.”
“What time?”
His persistence is starting to irritate me. It’s like he’s a creditor after a deadbeat. “Sometime this evening. Now I’m going to eat in peace. The baby wants the rest of his lunch.” I pat my belly meaningfully, and, thankfully, Edgar shuts up.
Then I pick up a piece of garlic toast and bite into it with more viciousness than necessary.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jo
After lunch, Edgar answers a text with a dark scowl, then takes me back to the courthouse. We quit talking to each other after my announcement that the baby wanted food.
“This evening,” he says as I climb out of the car. It’s a reminder, an extraction of a promise.
“Okay.” I shut the door, then trot toward my Lexus.
Seated behind the wheel, I remain still, breathing and trying to untangle the thoughts churning in my head. But it’s no use. They become messier and more convoluted until it feels like the only way forward is to toss everything out and start over.
But then Mama’s words slice through my mind like a knife. When I complained about how overwhelming it was to start out as a newbie fashion consultant and personal shopper, she told me to look up people who’d accomplished what I wanted to accomplish and seek their advice. And right now, what I want is what my parents have—a loving home, a close-knit family and a wonderful life with the man who loves me.
Feeling silly I didn’t think of it sooner and giddy because it’s going to be so much easier to ask Mama for a minute of her time, I drive toward her office. She should be in. It’s not even three yet.