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“Why don’t you hate me?” She lifts her gaze. “Sorry, I think I’m at the self-loathing stage.”
Her hands continue knitting. “Pria left me a few pints of ice cream for later—part of the breakup process, she said. I’m ridiculous. Who wallows for a guy while already dating an amazing man?” She stops knitting and raises her hand. “Me. I do.”
She shakes her head. “Honestly, my floundering has to do with everything, not onlyTristan. My parents, the invasion of my privacy. That bitch taped me having sex with her brother. Any normal human being would be disgusted by it and walk away. Not her.
“She taped her brother with both of us. Sold him, and along with him, us. According to Mason, she made about a million dollars. After she invades our privacy, her brother says, ‘I can’t be with you?’”
She touches her key pendant and shakes her head.
I’m at a loss for words because as of right now, I haven’t given a second thought to Tristan. When I do, I’ll have to admit it’s over. I’m not ready for it.
Thea pats the space next to her. “What’s up with you, Mattie?”
I shut the door and approach her, take off my shoes, and jump in bed next to her.
“It’s been a long week and it’s not over. I planned on sleeping all day, but my parents called. Your father—”
“What the hell did Martin do now?” She shakes her head.
Thea listens to my explanation and rolls her eyes. “Oh, Martin. He can’t let an opportunity get away from him, can he?” She lowers her face and kisses me. “So, if all the other plans fail, this show is our last resort to stop him?”
I nod.
“Well then, let’s start working on it. With any luck, we’ll finish tonight and be ready to shut him down tomorrow.”
“That’s my girl.” I pull her to me, kissing her deeply. “Let’s get reacquainted first, just to make sure we’re synchronized on that loving thing.”
Thea leaves the bed and locks the door. A playful smile appears on that pretty face and unlike other times, she’s the one undressing. Maybe tomorrow, we can discuss her reaction to not being pregnant. It went from I really don’t want a baby to crying for no apparent reason.
The idea of a baby was terrifying when I saw the tests, exciting while we waited, and sad when we found out we weren’t expecting a baby. Someday soon, when the waters calm, we’ll be able to plan a future.
Our future.
But can we find happiness without Tristan?
ChapterForty-Two
Matthew
Martin Levitz is ridinghis new fifteen minutes of fame. Giving interviews about his old band, how they’re planning on coming together, and how thrilled he is that his daughter is with his best friend’s son.
The first step to avoiding the band’s reunion was to make sure there weren’t enough participants for it. The bassist and rhythm guitarist for Dreadful Souls were two understanding men who accepted the amount of five million dollars to reject Martin’s idea for a reality show or any other idea that he might come up with.
My lawyer made them sign a few contracts that secured our negotiations for the rest of their natural lives.
As expected, Martin Levitz wasn’t as understanding and kicked our lawyers out of his home. Today I’m outside his home in Hollywood, California, to reason with him. This time I’m not alone. Jacob, Mason, and Arthur Bradley came along.
The house requires a lot of renovations, a coat of paint, and some water for the brown grass.
“Can I help you?” A thin, attractive platinum blonde opens the iron gate, not waiting for us to respond.
“Jessica?” Arthur’s question makes the woman push up her shades. A pair of violet-blue, bloodshot eyes try to focus on him. Recognition flickers in her eyes, and just now, I’m reminded that Arthur handled the security for my father’s band.
Jessica’s shoulders slump, but she doesn’t say a word.
“We’re here to talk to your husband, Martin.”
“Ah. He’s in the hot tub.”
