“Exactly.”
I skip the part where I requested a paternity test. After all, we weren’t exclusive. Doing the right thing in that situation is subjective. Margaret wanted me to marry her. I wanted to take care of the baby. When she said she wanted to get rid of the baby, we agreed that she’d carry him full term and rescind her parental rights. It was easy until it wasn’t. She keeps coming back trying to get into my good graces, and if all else fails. She cuts to the chase and asks for money.
“Has Arden met her?”
I shake my head. “No. I want to keep it that way. What would I even say? ‘Here’s the woman who doesn’t want to deal with you?’ He deserves better.”
“Good for you,” he agrees. “Our children deserve better than what our parents did for us. I still don’t know why William wanted to have so many children, but never cared for us. What was the point?”
My guess is that maybe it was a way to tell our grandfather, look, the fortune will be split into seven. Not just one child who’ll own it all. I don’t voice it out. There are too many theories about our father’s behavior to add yet a new one.
We stay quiet for a while, nursing our beers. “Do you think maybe Dad was in love with someone from the town?” I ask eventually.
“I’m not going to think about the conspiracy theories you all have. I don’t care why he decided to leave me stranded here. I hate him even more because of that. If he hadn’t done it, Beacon wouldn't be in the hospital.” The bitterness in his voice is more sour than the beer.
Is it just Beacon or is he also thinking about his boyfriend? “You wouldn’t have killed Bennett,” I say, trying to coax him into talking.
If I had to kill my ex, I’d be emotionally destroyed.
“I would rather not speak about it,” he mumbles, giving me an annoyed glance.
Will he ever speak to anyone but his counselor about what happened that night or the events that led to it?
“Are you still seeing a therapist?”
He nods. “It’s not because I miss him. I’m angry at myself for being such an idiot. I was involved with an organization that killed innocent people just for kicks—”
“You focused on your job,” I say, cutting him off. “If you had been in charge of the contracts, you would’ve worked for different people.”
He bobs his head a couple of times, staring at the fire. “So, I’m not great with kids,” he says, changing the subject a hundred and eighty degrees. “But whenever you need help with yours, I’m here.”
“Look at you. It’s like we’re bonding,” I joke.
This is the longest conversation I’ve had with Vance since we moved to Baker's Creek a little over ten months ago.
I hear Henry’s voice before I see him, “Can we join you?”
“As long as you bring the single malt,” Vance answers.
Henry shows us a bottle of Macallan 25 and glasses. “I even brought your two brothers with me.”
A few hours ago, I was ready to leave town and say fuck the will and the people in the town. Right now, I’m glad I have this bunch of assholes.
Chapter Four
Hadley
In hindsight, I should have been a little more worried when Randall said, “Suzie is coming back to Denver.”
Suzie, his ex-wife. The love of his life—according to his mother— and the only woman his family approves of.
How can he be speaking to a woman who cleaned him out after the divorce, and according to him, cheated? My blood boiled with anger each time he spoke about her. It didn’t bother me when he first mentioned her that fateful Sunday. All I thought was, he’s going to help her look for a house.
Furthermore, I should’ve asked questions when he was arriving late from work, having meetings outside the office, and receiving phone calls at odd hours of the night.
I think there was a part of me — deep, deep down— that knew this was happening. That’s the only reason I have for why I’m not surprised to find Randy thrusting deep into Suzie, splayed out on his desk as she begs for it.
Maybe I’m in shock. It’s the only reason I have for why I can’t look away from the little porn show. So much for bringing him lunch to the office and trying to have an impromptu date.
“Give it to her, boss,” one of the executives says whistling as he cheers for him.
I finally look around me and realize that I left the door open. Like in every office, everyone breaks for gossip. This one isn’t just any kind of office gossip. It’s the juicy one with live action porno.
His assistant, Norma, says, “Sorry, Hadley. I had no idea—”
“You should’ve been at the locker rooms last night. They were going at it heavy,” someone else interrupts her.
I gawk at the scene. He hates PDA and he was boning his ex in the locker room? Who is this guy?
A flash of anger blooms in my chest. This isn’t a one-time situation. He’s been fucking his ex-wife without caring if anyone sees him.
“So, you’ve been cheating on me?” I finally speak.
I’m angry with myself. Why didn’t I see this coming? Everyone else seems to know about his affair. And if I’m honest with myself, maybe I just didn’t care anymore, because things were bad before Suzie came back around. Maybe that’s why I’ve been searching for a new apartment and a new job, without saying anything to my now ex-boyfriend. Still, at least I planned to attempt a conversation, like civilized people who talk about their issues and agree to break up.
At least I didn’t cheat on him.
“Oooh, we should upload this on YouTube,” someone says from behind me, tearing me from my thoughts.
And you know what? He’s right. This show should be aired online. We should at least share a few pictures with the fans; everyone should know what kind of asshole their general manager is.
Randall looks over his shoulder, his eyes wide. “Fuck, Hadley, close the door.”
“Oh, you need privacy? You should’ve thought about that before doing it in the office without locking the door.” I snap a picture of them. “How will this look in the team’s social media account?”
He pulls out of Suzie, turns around, and threatens me with a small chubby finger. “Put that phone down.”
I snap another picture. “I can’t take you seriously like that. At least pull up your pants.”
“I’m sure you can find someone with a better cock,” his assistant whispers to me. “He’s definitely trying to make up for what he lacks in that department.”
I burst into laughter. Using a picture editing app, I put the pictures in one graphic so they can easily be posted to the team’s stories on each social media site.
“Hashtag,” I say pettily as I type, “GM having fun.”
“Hadley,” he warns me again, pulling up his pants and fixing his shirt. “Put that phone down.”
“Hashtag, cheater-for-life,” I continue.
“I swear if you post that—”
“Aw, what are you going to do Randy, break up with me?” I sound sad and almost teary, but I’m just fucking angry. “We are so over, Randall. You’re like a pair of worn-out shoes. They look ugly, their soles are nearly gone, but I keep using them because I don’t have the energy to buy a new pair.”