I let the silence stretch.
“Look, I won’t tell anybody how you met your wife. I mean, it’s none of my business, but I think it’s great. People can find true love anywhere, right? But I swear, you won’t be embarrassed because of this. Not because of me.”
The chuckle I let out is dark and devoid of humor. It’s comical how Chuck thinks I’m calling to avoid embarrassment, when everything I’ve done is to bring embarrassment and humiliation to the family name—and to ensure Dad knows I can play the game as well as he can.
Except…Belle is no longer a pawn. She matters to me.
“Did he mention me at all?” I ask.
“No, man. He asked about Ryder.”
Ryder? What does he have anything to do with anything? “What did you tell him?”
“The truth. I said he doesn’t come by anymore, being committed and all, but you do.”
Now it makes sense. Misdirection. Grayson most likely didn’t want to ask about me point-blank. But mentioning my famous actor brother was a good roundabout way to get the information he needed since everyone knows he and I hung out together a lot.
“Are we done?” Chuck asks, his voice shaky.
“Yes. Don’t let Grayson know we’ve talked.”
“Hey, you don’t have to worry. I’ll never see the guy again.” He hangs up.
I close my eyes, the back of my head propped against the headrest.
I love you…
I want her to say it to me all the time, over and over again, and not just in bed while I’m pushing her body over the edge. She is the second woman to tell me she loved me…and the first betrayed me.
And hasn’t Belle betrayed me as well?
She’s had so many chances to come clean about Grayson and the whole sordid mess. I’ve given her openings, gently probing so that she could tell me about things that could impact both of us, but she’s kept her mouth shut. She’s explicitly led me to believe she’d been providing for herself and Nonny on her own. The whole act about not wanting to sleep with me—regardless of how much money I throw at her—unless we got married… And like an idiot I bought the whole thing because I wanted her that badly.
Just like I let odd little things that didn’t add up slide with Annabelle Underhill because I didn’t want to consider the alternative.
I exhale harshly. There’s nothing to be done except wait for Paddington’s confirmation.
But I already know the answer.
Chapter Twenty-One
Annabelle
The non-stop buzzing of my phone wakes me up. I look at the clock by the bed. It’s a little after two.
I cringe. I can’t believe it’s this late. Now I won’t be able to sleep tonight.
I look at the screen. It’s full of texts from Nonny.
Is it true?
OMG were you really a hooker like they say?
Did you strip for real?
Suddenly my blood chills. There are more, all from my sister, and I google my name. There are hundreds of hits, most of them about my work as a stripper and a high-price escort. The lurid headlines stare in my face.
“Billionaire Elliot Reed Marries a Hooker” is the theme for every single one of them.