Maybe the shift will come once we move into our new house. We found a gorgeous property in Evergreen. It’s a forty-minute drive from downtown Denver, but it’s worth the commute. Five acres of land, and there’s a big barn on the property for our kids. The land is big enough that we won’t have to go to the dog park with Daisy and Buster every day so they can run. We’re building an indoor and outdoor arena for the horses.
We’re finally getting our family together.
Alistair and Poppy won’t have to be away from us anymore. I will work at the shelter down in Lakewood three times a week and at the one downtown on Tuesdays and Saturday mornings. Now that I graduated, I’m donating enough money so they can build a clinic within the shelter. We will be charging according to income and treating every animal that comes by.
Pierce thought I would set up a practice once I had my degree. That would be a smart move if I could deal with people. I’d rather be taking care of the animals than having to look into expenses, payroll, and administrative details that aren’t for me.
Plus, if things continue evolving so fast between us, we might be expecting a baby in a couple of years, and I want to have some flexibility. I still can’t believe it. He wants everything that I ever wanted—our family, a house full of kids. I need to keep going to the therapist because I want to be ready for that step.
My only problem with him is…well, not him, but his family. They hate me. Friday is my day off, and today, I plan on using it to pack most of our clothes. The moving company is coming next Monday. They’ll be packing everything else. Around noon, there’s a knock on the door. I hate when the concierge knocks instead of ringing the doorbell—or just leaving us alone. We don’t care if the neighbors next door feel like having two dogs is excessive.
We’re leaving soon.
When I open the door, I’m not surprised to see Sarah Bryant’s cold, expressionless face on the other side. Anyone would think this is her business face. It’s her passive-aggressive I-won’t-show-any-emotion-but-I’m-so-mad-I’ll-try-to-kill-you look.
It’s all in her raging eyes.
“Good afternoon,” I greet her.
“So, you got yourself a rich lawyer,” she accuses me, pushing herself inside the house.
“Welcome?”
“Leave him,” she orders. “My son is just infatuated with you. He doesn’t love you. I still don’t understand how you managed to get Pierce to marry you. Are you pregnant?”
I laugh and shake my head. “You’re priceless, lady. I don’t understand who you’re trying to insult. Your son or me? But honestly, it’s not going to work. I’ve dealt with worse people than you.”
Pierce doesn’t talk often about his family. He’s mentioned a couple of times how vindictive, rude, and ugly they are with those they don’t like. His cousins are a bunch of assholes who try to take advantage of anyone who crosses their path. Pierce learned to outsmart them at a young age, but getting along with them is impossible. Dealing with his family at work is a hassle. I’ve suggested he open his own practice, but I guess he wants to continue the legacy.
I’m glad my grandfather sold my father’s assets because I doubt I would’ve taken over the family business. I don’t know anything about groceries, fashion, or marketing. My point is that not everyone is built to continue a legacy. Pierce thinks that Bryant, LLP is his future, but his ideas don’t fit with theirs.
“What does that mean?” she gasps. “I’m Sarah Bryant. People pay for me to attend their events. They seek my approval and my company. I’m important in this state.”
“You’re pretty smart. I’m sure you can decipher what I said,” I respond, crossing my arms because the old “I’m better than you” attitude gives me a headache. “How can I help you?”
She takes a step back and glares at me. Maybe this is why she hates me. I don’t put up with her dismissive comments and her aggravating remarks.
“Give me your price. I’ll pay you enough to leave him alone,” she offers.
I smile slowly and counteract her offer, “How about if I pay you to leave us alone? Maybe it’s time for you to realize that your son is a thirty-year-old man. He’s not a kid, and you can’t forbid him to have sleepovers with me.”
She laughs. “You aren’t the little lamb he thinks you are,” she declares. “He thinks he’s saving some poor, homeless woman, but you are here for more than a warm bed.”
I blow out a breath, trying to calm myself. Yelling isn’t in my nature. I avoid raising my voice during confrontations. What’s the point of spitting hurtful words and using loud volume?
“Well, it’s obvious that you don’t know who I am, Ms. Bryant. If I wanted to be safe, I’d hire a bodyguard,” I explain with a soft voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
“I’ll make sure that this farce ends soon, and you won’t see a cent from the Aldridge or the Bryant fortunes.”
I’m tempted to tell her that it is totally fine because the Gibbs fortune is plenty for me. This isn’t a standoff to show who can scream louder, lash better, or destroy the other one. I don’t plan on doing anything to her. Unless she tries to hurt me. I hope that with time she changes her attitude because the only one who loses is Pierce.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask her curiously.
“My son deserves better,” she states.
“Better than what?” I am confused by her vagueness. “A woman who loves him, gets along with him, and wants to be with him for the rest of his life.”
I clutch my hands against my chest and gasp. “Such a tragedy. Call the elders to condemn me for this crime.”
She gives me a stern look and threatens me, “I have plans for my son, and they don’t involve you. The sooner you leave him, the easier I’ll go on you.”
I rub my temples before I speak, “Listen, I don’t know you, but what you’re doing is irrational. A parent should only want the best for their children and guide them through life. Is he making a mistake by marrying me?” I shrug. “Maybe I’m the one making the mistake. So far, I’m not amused by you and your family.”
She pulls out her checkbook and insists, “How much?”
“My love is invaluable, so…you figure out the amount. Then, multiply it times ten and send it to a women’s shelter,” I propose. “The next time you approach me, I hope it’s because you regret the unnecessary drama. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to continue packing.”
She huffs and leaves without saying another word.
“You handled yourself well,” my therapist says after I finish telling her the latest standoff with the Bryants.
Yesterday, Edward Bryant came to threaten me if I didn't leave his cousin. I hurt his favorite aunt with my poisonous words. I told Pierce about his mother’s visit last Friday, and then his annoying cousin, and his response was, “I’m not surprised.”
He wasn’t upset about the fact that his family came to insult me.
“I’m still upset at Pierce. I was expecting him to do…more,” I confess. “He didn’t show anger or call his family to put a stop to this insanity.”