“I told you I wasn’t going to Aruba for Christmas.” Peyton sank onto the sofa planted between her bay windows and her coffee table. For once in her life, she had the upper hand. How empowering. “But your money doesn’t have to be wasted. Why don’t you take Leila?”
“This is ridiculous. Hold on.”
Peyton pressed her phone tight against her ear. Rustling and mumbled voices carried to her. Someone was with him in his office, someone they didn’t want her to hear.
Bruce returned to the call. “We’ve been engaged for months. You agreed to be my wife.”
“That’s right, your wife, not your ticket to the life you want. In return, you can’t even give me your fidelity.”
“You’d get a husband.” Here was his snide tone again. “Men aren’t beating down your door with marriage proposals, even with your family’s connections. You’re thirty years old, Peyton. I’m saving you from the shelf.”
Who even says things like that anymore? “If you can’t be faithful during our engagement, you’re not going to be faithful after we’re married.” Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed it back.
Did her father know of Bruce’s affair with Leila? If she could sense something was going on between her fiancé and his secretary, how could her father not? He worked twelve-hour days with them.
“Of course I’d be faithful to you.”
Peyton’s heart raced. She drew several steadying breaths. “Who’s with you, Bruce?”
“What?” His voice was blank.
“It’s Leila, isn’t it?”
“What makes you think that?”
Peyton could barely breathe. “Is she giving you head while we’re on the phone?”
“That’s ridiculous! I resent—”
“Save it.” A wall of fatigue fell on her. “She’s welcome to you. I want a real marriage, one that’s based on mutual respect and love.”
Bruce barked a laugh. “Love is a fairy tale. You’re too old to believe that myth.”
Just thinking about Darius’s kisses made her toes curl in the fuzzy slippers. Her thighs trembled; her core grew damp. If Bruce had never experienced what Darius’s embrace had made her feel, she felt sorry for him.
“I want my pulse to race and my head to spin. I want fireworks. Most of all, I want to feel secure in the knowledge that my husband’s penis will never know anyone else’s mouth.”
“There’s nothing going on between Leila and me.” Bruce rushed his words as though he feared she would disconnect the call in seconds, which is exactly what she wanted to do. “We need to have this conversation in person. We can’t end our engagement over the phone.”
“I just did.” She pressed the END button to disconnect the call.
Peyton had just taken her second step toward reclaiming her life from her well-meaning but misguided parents. Her first step had been moving to Trinity Falls.
What was next?
“Ms. Helen, why do you keep looking around like the government is spying on you?” Darius tucked the elderly lady’s frail hand more securely into the crook of his arm.
He’d escorted his friend into the Heritage High School gymnasium Friday night. The gym had been converted into a banquet room in honor of Dr. Kenneth Hartford’s retirement from Trinity Falls University after almost thirty-five years.
“I’m looking for someone, if you must know.” Ms. Helen tipped her head back to frown up at him.
Her petite frame was draped in an oversized, thick scarlet sweater and slim black denim pants. Her black boots had modest heels and pointed toes. Sterling silver jewelry adorned her ears, neck, and wrists. Her snow-white hair was pinned back in a neat chignon.
“I’m your date.” Darius pressed his hand to his chest. He wore a purple turtleneck sweater under his gray jacket. “It’s not very flattering for you to look around for other men.”
“It’s definitely an ego boost to arrive on the arm of the handsomest man in the room. But you’re far too young for me, Darius.” She patted his forearm with her free hand.
“Ouch.” He released her arm and faced her. “I still don’t understand why we had to get to Ken’s retirement dinner so early.”