CHAPTER ELEVEN
Maggie
I knew exactly how many days it had been.
Twenty six days.
Twenty six days since Evan walked into DoggyMart.
Twenty five days since I started to fall for him.
Twenty four days since he took my virginity and turned me into a woman. His woman.
I swallowed the thick lump of nervousness in my throat and gripped the knife in my hand.
With the time ticking like a time bomb, I figured I might as well make pumpkin pie. Because this wasn’t going to last much longer, that was for sure. Any day now, Evan was going to announce that he was now the new CEO, and my services would be no longer needed.
My throat closed, making it hard to breathe.
The air wheezed in my nostrils, lungs tight.
But no, the show must go on. So I was making pumpkin pie.
The kitchen was a mess of orange guts, soft vegetable flesh, sugar, flour, and pie tins. I needed everything on the tabletop, but was too much of a wreck to put it together right.
Because Evan was out there somewhere. Was he on his way to see me? Was he already the CEO of the company?
My hands shook and I could barely hold the knife properly to cut the pumpkin into slices for the blender.
I don’t cook a lot because fresh ingredients are so expensive. And frankly, it’s easier to buy from the store sometimes. But the tools come out when I’m stressed, and I’m sure as hell stressed now.
Because my thirty days with Evan were just about over. I can barely believe it. The time flew by so quickly, nothing more than a flash in the pan. I want him to want me, but he doesn’t. Or maybe he wants me but I want him to too much?
Shit. This was so confusing and I shook my head miserably, looking at the half-gutted pumpkin.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I jumped and nearly sliced off my thumb, narrowly missing the soft pad. Who could that be?
Oh wait, the ring was supposed to come today. My heart jumped, pulse beating rapidly. The six carat pink diamond that we’d used so sinfully in the jewelry store was arriving today.
And sure enough, a special courier dressed in all black stood on the doorstep. When I opened the door, I could feel the scrape of his eyes on my oversized T-shirt, pumpkin clumps stuck to my cheek and clothes. But these people are all business, and a professional smile curved his lips.
“Margaret Lake?”
“Yes?”
He held a clipboard toward me.
“Sign here, please.”
I scribbled my name and then a small box was tucked in my hands.
“Have a good day, Miss,” the man said smoothly before getting into an unmarked van. Wow, James Bond for sure. But maybe that was the point. They wanted to move undetected through the city given the high value items in their charge.
Because this was the ring! My beautiful, six carat diamond was finally here.
Trembling fingers popped open the velvet box. And I stared at what was supposed to be a six carat princess cut diamond in a platinum setting.
But this wasn’t a diamond.
This was glass.
I was sure of it. Although I don’t know very much about expensive jewelry, anyone with eyes could tell. This fake ring was as obvious as a beard on a woman in high heels, dull and cloudy compared to the real thing.
It wasn’t a diamond at all.
It was a facsimile, just a pretend stand-in.
My stomach dropped.
This was a mistake. Had to be.
I grabbed the phone and called the number for the jewelry store.
“Hello!” I stammered the greeting as soon as somebody answered. “Is this Mr. Lozano?”
“No.” The voice on the other end of the phone was snooty and cold. “He isn’t available at the moment. What can I do for you?”
“Um...my...fiancé ordered a ring and it just got delivered.” I gave him Evan’s name and information. “But it’s not a diamond, it’s glass. The delivery must be a mistake.”
“One moment, Miss,” the voice said busily.
I heard rustling in the background then some tapping sounds from a keyboard. When the guy came back on the phone, his voice was downright cold.
“Is this Miss Margaret Lake?” he asked perfunctorily.
“Yes, that’s me,” I stammered. “Maggie.”
He sniffed.
“There’s been no mistake.” He didn’t bother to say “Miss” this time. “The delivery was correct.”
What?
I couldn’t even manage a gasp this time, hands frozen on the phone. My heart raced at sixty miles an hour, unable to believe the words.
“You there?” the voice sounded tinny in the phone. “You have the correct delivery,” the salesman emphasized again. And the next words sliced through my heart. “In fact, Lozano’s did you a favor because we don’t usually trade in glass. Our shop works exclusively with diamonds and other precious stones. But because Mr. Lincoln asked for this special accommodation, we did this for you. You’re actually very lucky.”
What?
Evan never meant to get me a diamond?
This was all pretend from the get go?
Trembling, I ended the call. The Cinderella fairy tale was already beginning to explode. Because of course, the diamond was fake. It was just a prop to make things look real.
God, what did I expect? Of course, Evan Lincoln wasn’t going to actually give me a two hundred thousand dollar piece of jewelry. I wasn’t worth that.
Swallowing heavily, the tears began to spill from my eyes. The fairy tale was really over. This wasn’t about the money or baubles. Because I don’t care about any of that. I cared about something I couldn’t have, that no money could buy.
I thought he felt something for me.
I thought the billionaire cared, that his soul was moving in my direction.
But this piece of glass told me something different. It told me that I’d been a dumb girl, dreaming dreams that never existed. I’d been caught up in my reverie with a lot of hopeful “what ifs” and “maybes.”
But there were no what ifs.
There were no maybes.
Evan was a prince, and I was a nobody.
The chasm between us was wide and deep, as big as the Grand Canyon.
And the fake ring was proof of that. Everything was an illusion. Feelings? What feelings? There were never any feelings, period.
Plus, the billionaire was already starting to wind down the show for his parents, giving me a great big glass ring instead of a diamond.
My heart wept. Every tear that trailed down my face was another ounce of hope sapped, another joule of vitality gone. The phone fell from limp hands and I collapsed on the living room floor.
I should just take the ring and wear it. Yeah. That’s what I should do. Walk around with this big pink glass ring on my finger because that’s all I’d ever get.
Pain slashed through my chest once more, making me gasp.
But I couldn’t put on the fake ring. It hurt just looking at it, the glass burning an image on the backs of my eyelids.
It represented my stupidity.
My foolishness.
Everything that I’d never have.
The impossible, out of reach for a poor girl who works with her hands.
Oh god.
Tears dribbled from my eyes and into my mouth and I gasped, trying to catch my breath. What next?
Because this wasn’t how I pictured it while taking the pregnancy test this morning. After missing my period and then vomiting for twenty minutes, I knew I had to check. And it was true. Evan Lincoln’s fertile seed had done its duty, and now I had a baby inside me. Evan and I were going to have a child.
But he never wanted a child.
He never wanted me.
So I was going to have Evan’s baby. Alone.
The glass ring had showed me that much at least.
I sniffed again and stood on shaking legs, smearing my cheeks with pumpkin and flour. I couldn’t stay here. I loved the animals at DoggyMart, I loved the city, I loved Evan. But I had more than myself to care for now. I had a baby to think about now.
So I had to go because this was Evan’s city … and my broken heart wouldn’t let me stay.