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“Because he has money and pays people to keep quiet. It sickens me and I want it to end. I didn’t enter into this arrangement for no reason. I want to take away his power for good. Whoever runs Daulton Holdings also runs our family trust. I want to control the purse strings so he can’t continue this behavior. No one will get paid off once I’m in control. He can rot in jail or go deep into debt for all I care.”
She nods. “Okay, Carter. I suppose I didn’t appreciate just how bad it was. I guess we also need to do this to stop him.”
I look at her. “Thank you. One more thing. He’s terrible to my mother. You’re so fortunate that you witnessed your parents’ relationship as a model growing up and that you see your mom and Jackson now. Those are amazing, loving marriages. My parents don’t have that. I’ve never seen them kiss or hold hands. He orders her around and puts her down. He has no respect for her. It makes me sick.”
Reagan looks confused. “Why doesn’t she just leave him?”
“I told you she’s a bit messed up from my sister, right?”
“Yes.”
“Between her fragile mental state and the money he controls, she feels like she can’t. But when I control everything, I’m going to try to help her get away from him. I want him out of both of our lives.”
Reagan squeezes my hand. “Okay, Carter. Let’s do this.”
We drive to my parents’ house. It’s about thirty minutes outside of the city. We learn a bit more about each other’s lives. Things a normal couple would know about one another.
I learn that Reagan started college out of state, but when her father died, she transferred to be closer to her mother who was struggling at the time.
She started her business right after graduation, and it took off immediately. She had made her business plan in college, so she was ready to hit the ground running. The franchise opportunities have been pouring in, and she’s capitalized. She’s got plans for expansion into a few other trendy concepts, but she wouldn’t divulge them since technically I’m still the enemy. She’s highly intelligent and forward thinking. I’m a bit blown away by her.
When Cassandra and Trevor got together, having kids was the biggest obstacle because of Cassandra’s age, so Reagan offered to carry their child which ended up being children.
Reagan is truly a remarkable woman. She’s smart, kind, giving, loving, and stunningly beautiful. I’m having trouble remembering why I chose a fake relationship over a real one.
She still doesn’t know that I saw her pregnant or that I was the delivery man that day. I don’t think she would be pleased. I feel bad keeping it from her, but I missed my window to tell her, and now I can’t risk it.
As soon as we arrive at the castle of doom, I’m reminded why I’m doing this. I take her hand again. “Are you ready?”
She takes a breath and swings our arms as we walk toward the front door. “Piece of cake. We’ve got this.”
I turn to her. “One other thing. Besides the obvious differences, my parents are much older than yours. Obviously, your mom looks like she could be your older sister, not your mother. She basically looks like she could be my mom’s daughter. I just don’t want you to be surprised by their appearances.”
Reagan smiles. “Ah, yeah, I get that a lot. Like everyone who has ever met my mother in my entire life. My dad was the same, and obviously Jackson’s youthful looking too.” She smirks at me. “At least you didn’t mention her body. That’s usually the next thing out of people’s mouths. Especially men.”
I give her a guilty smile as I knock on the door. Darian has an insane body. I’d have to have my man card checked not to have noticed that.
She smiles back, knowing what I’m thinking.
Fortunately, my mother opens the door before I can get into any real trouble. She warmly greets Reagan as I introduce them to each other.
“Oh, Carter, she’s so pretty.”
Reagan smiles. “Thank you, Mrs. Daulton.”
“Please, call me Miriam.”
“Thank you, Miriam.”
My mom, as always, is dressed in a designer outfit. Her blonde bob is styled to perfection, and her makeup is impeccable. She’s in her sixties, and still fairly attractive, though my father pushes a bit too much cosmetic surgery on her. She doesn’t need it.
We walk through into the living room. My father is sitting there with the newspaper and a glass of scotch. He lowers the newspaper. He moves his eyes to me first, and then to Reagan. He slowly moves his eyes up and down her body without saying a word. He’s so obvious in his degradation of women.
“Carter, I said no more models.” He moves his eyes back to his newspaper.
“Hello to you too, Dad. She’s not a model. She’s an intelligent, successful businesswoman.”
“Instagram influencing is not a business.”
