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Fiancée For Sale by Lila Kane (29)


 

 

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Brianna

 

 

O ne week. That’s all I give myself to wallow. Deb said I should take as long as I needed, but I didn’t want to.

Chet had torn my heart out, but it had been the best thing that could have ever happened to me. So I figured I just needed to see the bright side of my break-up with Michael.

Too bad there doesn’t seem to be a bright side.

“Is that okay if I use your computer?” I ask Deb.

She glances over from the stove in her apartment, where she’s making a pot of spaghetti. “Sure.”

“I’ll get my own soon. I promise. It’s back to work this week.”

“Back to work?” She pours a glass of wine and slides it over to me. “You found a job?”

“I’m going to find one.” I’d stoop to going back to the coffee shop if I had to, just enough to get me back on my feet.

“Well, you can stay here as long as you need to,” Deb says. “I’m kind of liking the company.”

I’m liking it, too. I’d gotten used to living with someone. To having someone to come home to or to be there for when they came home. But still, she isn’t Michael.

I check my email, my heart leaping when I see one with a subject asking about my services. “Yes,” I say.

“What is it?” Deb asks.

“Maybe a web design job. I’m…” My voice trails off when I see who the email is from. Parson Enterprises. My heart squeezes with a mix of anger and pain.

Deb leans in. “What?”

“It’s nothing—a mistake,” I say.

“A mistake?”

I look up at her with a frown. “It’s from Michael.”

“Wait—what? Like…he wants you to make a new website for him or something?”

I delete the email without reading it. “I don’t know and I don’t care. What? He can’t get a hold of me through a regular email so he thinks he’ll try to trick me by getting me to work for him?”

“Maybe he really needs a website,” Deb says, stirring her spaghetti sauce.

“Yeah, right.”

“Well…you could just talk to him and see.”

I glare at her. “What? Are you on his side?”

Though I don’t have to ask. She is. After the fourth bouquet of flowers he’d sent, she’d told me maybe I should just hear him out. No way! I’d heard Chet out and look what that had done.

“I’m not on his side, I’m on yours. I’m just saying…the whole thing is unresolved and I know how much you care for him. And it seems like he’s trying to resolve things…” She shrugs. “I’m on your side.”

“Then let me handle this my way.”

“I am. I mean…” Deb smiles at me. “I will. Just…you know, talk to me if you need to. And maybe—maybe when you’re not so hurt…”

She doesn’t finish what she’s saying, but I know what she means. She wants me to give Michael another chance. I don’t know why. She was perfectly happy with me ditching Chet. So why does she care about Michael so much?

I mean, he lied to me. More than once. And he said we weren’t good for each other anyway, so why does it matter?

But now he keeps trying to get in touch with me. Calling my phone, calling Deb’s phone, sending gifts.

I narrow my eyes at Deb. “Have you talked to him?”

Deb turns around. “What?”

“Michael. Have you talked to him? Is that why you’re on his side?”

“I…okay. It was just this afternoon, and I promise I was going to tell you tonight. Over dinner—which is why I’m making you dinner, by the way. You know I don’t want to keep anything from you, so I wasn’t going to, but—”

“Deb!”

“Wait, Brianna—don’t be mad. He kept calling, okay? And then he said he had something to say about Chet and I—I had to listen.”

I frown at her. “So much for being on my side.”

“Brianna…”

I ignore her and grab for the stack of mail on the counter. There’s only one for me. My bank statement. Wonderful. Just another way to kick me when I’m down. I rip open the envelope, and then stare.

“Wait…” I murmur. “This isn’t right. It has to be a mistake…”

Deb looks at the total in my account and gasps. “Holy shit!”

The balance is over a million dollars.

“I need to call or…” Then I stop as it occurs to me. It’s not a mistake at all. Michael did this.

“What?” Deb asks.

“Did you know about this?”

“What? That you’re a closet millionaire? What’s going on?”

“It’s Michael,” I say, standing. “It has to be. He must have deposited the money in my account.”

Her eyes round. “I swear I didn’t know anything about this. You believe me, right?”

I swallow and nod. “Yes, I do. But…” I shake my head. “I need some air. I’m going for a short walk. I need to figure out what to do.”

Do I make the bank take the money back? How do they do that? Will they just give the money back to Michael? Is that how it works?

“Dinner should be ready when you get back,” Deb says. “And I’m sorry about talking with Michael. I just… you guys were good together.”

We were. I swallow down the hurt that brings me. Were. Not anymore because we’re not together anymore. And it was his choice just as much as mine.

I mean, he said he wasn’t right for me, so obviously he doesn’t want to be with me.

I slide on flip flops and walk out the door, down the short set of stairs, and onto the sidewalk. My breath hitches and I press my hands over my face, telling myself to calm down. I’m afraid if I let the emotion come in, I’ll break down completely, and I can’t do that. Not again.

You’re okay, Brianna. It hurts and it’s hard, but you’ll live.

Once my breathing is normal, I start walking. The evening is cooling fast and I regret not bringing a jacket. Oh well. Just another thing to screw up my day.

A job. That’s all. I need a job, I need a computer to keep my business going, and then I’ll go from there. One step at a time.

I’ve gotten over heartbreak before. I’ve been on my own before. I can do this. And this time, I’m not really on my own. I have Deb.

Still, that’s not much. I miss Michael and his family. I miss everything I had last week. And it has nothing to do with the money.

Still, what do I do about the money? I can’t keep it. I didn’t even make it through the whole year. That means the contract is null and void.

“Brianna?”

The voice startles me and I nearly trip.

“Hey—are you okay?”

I turn to see Liv. My heart clutches. I haven’t seen her since before everything happened with Michael, even though she tried to call. Now I feel guilty. I should have at least sent her a text to let her know I’m okay.

“Hi,” I say, continuing my walk.

She keeps up with me. “Brianna…I’m sorry for just showing up like this, but I tried calling and I never heard back.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I needed space. I…” I glance over, my eyes narrowed. “You’re not here because of Michael, are you? I mean, if he sent you to talk to me, I don’t want to talk.”

“No. No,” she repeats more firmly. “I came because I wanted to see if you were okay and because…well, I thought we were friends.”

The guilt bites at me again. “I’m sorry, I should have called you back. You’ve never been anything but nice to me. I should have called.”

She stops and wraps me in a hug. I sink into it, emotions spilling over.

“Brianna…you were like a sister to me. No matter what happens with Michael, I care about you. I want to know you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” I blubber.

“Don’t apologize. Just know that I’m here for you.”

I sniffle. “Okay. How are you?”

She pulls back with a laugh. “Just fine. Work is good and the website is amazing. I have, like, six more people who want your services.”

“Really? Like real clients or ones your brother set up?”

She blinks, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

I sigh and then shake my head. “Sorry. That wasn’t fair. I’d really, really love to do more websites.”

“Good. I can give you all the info.”

I feel better already, being able to talk to her about real life and work. And knowing I have more jobs potentially lined up. I’ll get on them right away. I’ll work on the computer at the library if I have to, but I’ll get back on my feet.

“So…” Liv gives me an apologetic smile. “I have to say it because I’m his sister. Michael feels really bad. And…well, he told me the truth.”

I stop walking, shocked. “About what?”

“Everything. The arrangement, the stuff with Chet, and how he—he told you he isn’t right for you because of the kid thing.”

“The—wait, what? The kid thing?”

“Yeah, about him not being able to have kids. And he—”

“Hold on. Michael can’t have kids?”

She opens her mouth, closes it, then tries again. “I thought you knew. I mean, he told me he told you he couldn’t give you what you want but he still felt bad because of the way it ended. And—and I know how much he cares about you…I just thought maybe you could work through it or…”

My mind is whirling with the new information. But no, I have to stay strong. Even though I’m confused, that doesn’t change the overall picture.

“He lied to me,” I say quietly.

Liv nods. “He said he did, which…that’s not right. But I understand. It was Chet, right? I mean…okay, so don’t get mad at me…” She reaches into her large purse and pulls out a manila envelope. “He showed me these pictures.”

I frown. “What are they?”

“Stuff about Chet and—God, the guy is crazy. And then there’s this video, and—”

“Video? Liv…” I sigh, weary. “I’m trying to move on. This is hard for me, too.”

“I know. I swear I know. And I promise Michael didn’t send me—I just wanted you to know the truth. Chet was following you and he tried to set Michael up and Chet said he’d make trouble for you and Michael if he didn’t let you go. And—and I know that’s not ultimately why Michael said you shouldn’t be together—but it’s why he didn’t tell the whole truth in the first place. He was trying to protect you and trying…to get Chet out of the picture, I guess. Without having to hurt you.”

I press a hand to my heart, right where it’s aching so bad I can barely stand it. I take the envelope, but shake my head. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, I…”

She leans in for a hug. “I know. And I understand. I’m here if you need to talk. And I’ll get you those clients’ names.”

I nod and watch as she walks away, the envelope clutched in my hand. I turn and walk back to the apartment. It smells heavenly when I step inside, but I’m not hungry anymore. All I want to do it sleep away the pain.

I toss the envelope on the counter as I pass.

“What’s that?” Deb asks.

“It’s from Liv. It’s…I don’t even know. I can’t deal with it right now.”

Deb studies it. “Can I look?”

“I don’t care. Do whatever you want, just leave me out of it.”

She nods and fills my wine glass. “How about you drink this and we won’t talk about Michael anymore tonight?”

I sit down, my stomach settling a little. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

 

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