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Nara
Iwas beside myself that Brodie interfered with my problems and threatened Simon.
For one, I didn’t think any amount of threats would scare that little weasel off—that’s how strong-willed he was. And second, where the hell did Brodie get off anyway?
How could he possibly have thought I’d be okay with one of his henchmen tracking Simon down and putting the fear of god into him? Life just didn’t work that way. At least, not for me.
Pissing off Simon was like whacking a hornet’s nest with a baseball bat. You might be trying to kill the damn thing, but you only ended up making matters worse.
That about summed up the man who was my husband. Faux husband. I couldn’t risk having him ruin me. I needed to find a way to raise the ten grand. Ten grand I simply didn’t have.
So there was that. But I was actually more furious with myself than with Brodie.
I’d vowed not to get involved, and then I had fallen into his rich, sexy clutches. I mean, no one had ever flown me in a freaking helicopter to the freaking Hamptons, for freaking dinner.
My vain ass had gotten sucked in by flattery and treats. I knew better than that.
Mommy Knows needed me. And I needed it. I didn’t want some guy to throw a wrench into my hard-fought plans for world domination in the area of dirty baby diapers.
I knew what I had to do.
* * *
Simon’s number rang and rang. So I left a voicemail message.
“Hey, Simon, it’s Nara. Listen, Brodie told me he sent someone to talk to you, and I just wanted you to know I didn’t know about it until just now. I’m sorry he harassed you. Will you call me to talk?”
I didn’t know what would come of my effort to reach Simon.
I suspected it wouldn’t be anything good, but I had to at least try to keep things from getting worse.
* * *
Joi popped into my cube and made herself at home like she always did.
“What’s up, bitch?” she said, laughing.
“Hey, don’t say that so loudly here. It’s not a good example for the rest of the team. We’re in management, remember?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Management shmanagement. They’re cool,” she said, waving her hand around in her no big deal manner.
But it was a big deal. I was trying to build a damn company. She was my best friend, but sometimes I wondered if she understood what a great opportunity we were on the brink of.
I changed the subject to something that would not include her calling me bitch.
“So how’s the wedding planning?” I smiled to show how interested I was. Not.
She brightened. Because, of course.
“Ohmygod, I’m super excited. Just two more weeks. And”— she paused as if waiting for a drumroll—“I’ve lost five more pounds.”
She was looking a little drawn. “Just don’t lose any more weight. Your boobs will become concave.”
Her hands flew to her chest. “Eh. I never had much in that department. We’re not all as lucky as you,” she said, pointing at my chest.
“Speaking of lucky,” she continued, “what’s up with your hotel guy? He sweep you off your feet, yet?”
I told her about his tracking down Simon to “put the fear of god in him.” Whatever that meant.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “No way! He doubled down!”
“I guess he did,” I said flatly.
“That is super hot.”
It took her a moment to realize I felt differently. “Wait. You’re not happy about him stepping in?”
“Not everyone wants to date a caveman,” I explained.
She shrugged. “Suit yourself. He sounded like a nice guy. I’m sure his intentions were good.” She stood to leave.
I wondered what work she wasn’t getting done by hanging out with me. But then, I wasn’t getting any work done, either.
I shook my head. “He was a nice guy. But it’s over now.”
“Ugh. You’re an idiot sometimes.”
What?
I chafed at her name-calling. But maybe she had a point.
“Well, he pissed me off. Like I couldn’t handle my own shit.” I looked up at her. “I founded my own company, for heaven’s sake.”
“Yeah, but you also broke the law with a fraudulent marriage. You’re not perfect, just like he is not,” she said.
Fraudulent marriage. Those very words made the acid in my stomach churn.
Mercilessly.
Shoulda-woulda-coulda.
“How I wish I could do that whole bit over.” I buried my face in my hands.
“Well, you can’t. Time to face the music. Call Simon’s bluff. I don’t think he’ll expose you, because he’d be deported. And if he did try to ruin you, I don’t think he could. You have a stellar reputation and a strong product. You might get fined by the INS, and that would suck, but I think your business partners would stand behind you. I know everyone here at the company would.”
Tears stung at my eyes. Shit, I didn’t want to cry over this. But it had added so much stress to my already overloaded life. I was just done with it.
Joi saw my misery and sat back down.
