Chapter 12
Peter
I knew I wouldn’t be able to get through the rest of the day. I told Evangeline that I was sick, then called Ryan and asked him to meet me at our favorite bar. Luckily, Ryan didn’t ask any questions.
Half an hour later, we were sitting in a back booth. I was hunched over a beer, gazing sourly into the foamy depths.
“What the hell is going on, man,” Ryan asked. “I’ve never seen you so down.”
I groaned. “Pamela’s pregnant,” I said, launching into the story of my disastrous lunch.
When I was done, Ryan was staring at me with wide eyes. “No fucking way,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s no fucking way she’s knocked up!”
I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “I don’t want to believe it, but she might be telling the truth,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I thought she was on the pill, but what if she was lying?”
“Dude,” Ryan said. “You always need to wrap that shit up!” He pointed through the table at my crotch.
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for that helpful tip,” I said sarcastically. “Putting a condom on now is definitely going to help me out of this shit.”
“Man,…” Ryan trailed off. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Neither do I,” I said bitterly. “Other than I just had to give up the girl of my dreams because my crazy ex is a manipulative bitch!”
Ryan frowned. “You should hire someone,” he said.
“Like a lawyer?” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve already got one, and I doubt there’s much he can do for me now. Especially if I want to hang on to Spyros Magnate!”
“No,” Ryan said, his voice laced with impatience. “Not Don – like a private investigator, you know? Someone who can follow Pamela and tell you what she’s up to all the time.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Sounds awesome,” I said sarcastically.
“No, really,” Ryan said. “What if this guy trails her and finds out she’s seeing someone else? You could force her to take a paternity test. I seriously bet that kid isn’t even yours. When was the last time you had sex?”
I frowned. “I don’t remember,” I said. “Probably like, seven or eight weeks ago. And besides, she was fucking another guy on the side the whole time!”
“See?” Ryan shrugged. “You already caught them together, that’s half the battle. I seriously bet this kid is his, and she just wants to trap you. Women are like that,” he added, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes. “They’re all impossible.”
“Not all of them,” I said, thinking of Honey. Honey would never do something like this – put me in such a shitty situation and then manipulative me. When I thought of how her face looked when I’d told her the news, it was a punch to the gut. She’d looked so betrayed and heartbroken, it was like she was a little kid who had just lost her pet kitten.
I knew I had to get her back, as soon as I could.
I sighed. “I think you’re right,” I said.
“What, about women?”
“No,” I said. “About the private investigator.” I cleared my throat. “When I get home, I’ll make some calls.”
“Good,” Ryan said. He groaned. “What a shitty situation, dude, I can’t believe you’re going through this.”
“Neither can I,” I said drily. “And I’m sure that Honey’s never going to speak to me again. You should’ve seen her face, man, she looked awful.”
Ryan shrugged. “She’ll get over it,” he said. “Just send her some flowers or something. Chicks love that.”
“She’s not like that,” I said, taking a deep breath and sighing. “She’s a different kind of woman, Ry. I’ve never met anyone like her before.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Man, you sound really hung up on her,” he said.
I shrugged. “She’s basically perfect,” I said. Under the table, I clenched my hands into fists. “And Pamela fucked everything up for me.”
“Go home and take a long nap,” Ryan advised. He drained the last of his beer and set the empty glass on the counter. “I’ve got to meet some people from work – my boss wants us at this team building thing. At least it’s at a bar.”
“What, you can’t stay?”
Ryan whistled and shook his head. “Not tonight,” he said, getting to his feet. “Sorry, man.” He reached out and rubbed my shoulder. “I’m sure things will work themselves out.”
I sighed. “Yeah,” I muttered. “I hope so.”
I’d planned on staying at the bar until it closed, getting piss drunk with Ryan before stumbling home. But now, thinking about Honey and Pamela and my whole fucked up mess of a situation, I knew I should be getting home and researching private investigators. The worst thing of all was knowing that even if I called Honey or reached out to her, she’d ignore me. She’d been so angry and sad when she’d stormed out of my office that I knew I’d be lucky if she ever spoke to me again.
When I got home, I kicked off my shoes and flopped on my bed. The pillows still smelled like Honey, and her scent made me ache with desire. I grabbed my laptop and began scrolling through the search results for private investigators. When I had a list of five or six that looked promising, I grabbed my phone and lay back against the pillows.
“Hello, thank you for calling Crosetti Firm, how may I help you?”
I sighed. “Yeah, I need to hire someone,” I said. “Can you help me with that?”
The girl – a secretary, I guessed – giggled. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll put you right through.”
Seconds later, a rough voice growled in my ear. “This is Don,” he snapped. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to hire someone to tail my ex-girlfriend,” I said. “Very discreetly.”
Don coughed. “You called the right place,” he said. His Brooklyn accent was so thick I could hardly understand him. “When you want me to start?”
I narrowed my eyes and sighed. “As soon as you can,” I said honestly.
“Great,” Don said. He gave me an address of a small office in Harlem. “Can you come by later?”
I glanced out the window. The sun was setting. Somewhere, Honey was settling down for the day.
“I can come right now,” I said darkly. “I’ll be right there.”
We hung up. Before I could put my phone away, I knew I had to try Honey. Sure, she could ignore me. But what if she answered?
What if she was willing to give me a second chance?
Biting my lip, I pulled up her contact info and dialed her number.
“Hello, you’ve reached Honey Walters. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, please leave your name, number, and a brief—“
Shit.
I hung up, groaning as I slid my phone into my back pocket. She wasn’t even taking calls, much less answering them. What if she’d blocked my number?
I frowned as I grabbed a light blazer and left my condo. My mind was stormy as I waited on the curb for a cab, sliding inside the backseat without even looking at the driver. I barked Crosetti’s Harlem address in a loud monotone and pulled out my phone, swiping open the screen and staring at Honey’s contact information.
More than anything, I wanted Honey to give me the time of day. I know that I fucked up, but I deserve another chance, right?
Or maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m so entitled that Honey deserves to blow me off, to never speak to me again. After all, she would be in the right. I got her hopes up, and I hurt her.
It’ll be a miracle if she ever speaks to me again, I thought grimly to myself as the cab rolled through wave after wave of New York City traffic. And I can’t fuck up again – I know she won’t tolerate it.
As much as it kills me to admit it, Honey’s anger just makes me want her more. She’s unlike any other woman I’ve ever met…strong, sassy, fiercely independent. And most women, hell, most people couldn’t handle the stress of what Honey’s going through. I can’t even imagine it – going to my parents one day and hearing that my entire life has been a lie.
No doubt about it. She’s perfect for me.
“Hey,” the cabbie barked, slowing down in front of a grimy office building. “That’s thirteen seventy-five.”
I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and passed it through the greasy plexiglass slot. “Keep the change,” I muttered under my breath.
“You want me to wait?” The cabbie gave me a dirty look as if I’m not allowed to say yes.
I shrugged. “I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t know how long this is going to take.”
The cabbie muttered something foul under his breath, and I rolled my eyes as I pushed open the door and climbed out onto the sidewalk. Even though I’m still technically in the same city, the difference between Harlem and Manhattan is astonishing. My part of the city is clean, manicured, groomed perfectly. Whereas Harlem…Harlem is different. It’s more of a blue-collar area, but that’s almost appealing because it seems so much more human than Manhattan. There are families here, people who’ve been here their whole lives.
Whereas I’ve barely stepped outside of my privilege for one second.
Of course, there’s no elevator. I climbed five flights of rickety stairs, dodging skinny, yowling cats and chubby toddlers clutching melting ice-cream bars in their hands. By the time I’m standing outside of Crosetti’s office, my heart is pounding, and my forehead is drenched in sweat.
“Hello?” Knocking on the door, I leaned back, rocking on the balls of my feet. “Crosetti?”
“Come in!”
I pushed open the door and walked inside.
“Hi!” A young girl looked up at me and smiled. “Do you have any appointment?”
“I just called a little while ago,” I said, glancing down at my watch. “Is Crosetti still available to see me?”
The girl nodded. “Yeah,” she said, slipping into high-school vernacular. “He’s in the back. Want me to tell him you’re here?”
“No need,” I said darkly, pushing past her desk and into the lone office. The door was varnished and somewhat sticky – cringing, I pulled my hand away and wiped it on my slacks.
Inside, there was a large wooden desk, covered in papers. A man sat in a leather chair, hunched over the paperwork and frowning, holding a glass up to his eye. He was younger than I’d expected – his hair was mostly brown, threaded with grey and silver – but his face was weary and lined. He didn’t look up, even when I walked right over to his desk.
“Mr. Crosetti?”
The man glanced up, eyeing me and raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
I sat down in the hard wooden chair opposite from his desk. “I called a little while ago. I want someone to tail a girl for me.”
Don snickered and rubbed his hands together. “Boy, ain’t you in the right place,” he said, shaking his head. I noticed he was chewing a large wad of gum. “What’d she do?”
I sighed and leaned back against the chair. “She’s my ex-girlfriend,” I explained, pulling out my phone and showing him a picture of Pamela. It was from one of her many social media profiles, and showed her in a slinky black gown, holding a glass of champagne and giggling with her head thrown back.
Don’s eyes practically popped out of his head. “Damn, she’s a looker!” He said, whistling. “Lemme guess – she cheated on you?”
“Yeah, but that’s not why I’m here,” I said, narrowing my eyes and tucking my phone away. “I dumped her, and now she comes back and says she’s pregnant. I don’t think it’s mine – but it’s too early to tell.”
Don laughed. “And you don’t wanna be on the hook for child support?”
I frowned. “It’s not that,” I said, before launching into an explanation of Spyros Magnate and my father’s command.
“Oh,” Don said. “I get it. You don’t want this kid to be yours, and you think she’s trying to pull a fast one.”
I nodded. “I’m sure she’s seeing someone else,” I said. “But I need proof.”
Don nodded. Suddenly, he was all businesslike. “Right,” he said. “Well, this will be expensive.” He glanced up at me with a knowing look on his face. “But something about you tells me that you ain’t gotta worry too much about money.”
I shrugged. “As long as you do the job well, expense isn’t an issue,” I said smoothly.
“Right,” Don said. He handed me a sheet to fill out, where I listed Pamela’s full name, address, and physical characteristics. It almost felt a little creepy, but every time I started to hesitate, I thought about her face, twisted with rage.
“I can’t emphasize how important it is for you to be discreet,” I said, handing the form back over to Don. “She can’t find out about this – it gives her even more ammunition against me, which she doesn’t need.”
Don nodded. “Don’t worry,” he said, smirking. “I ain’t never been caught before. I’ve been doin’ this for almost twenty years.”
“Damn,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
Don gave me a toothy smile. “Probably a damn sight more entertaining than your gig,” he said. “What, you in finance or something?”
“Shipping.”
“Ah, you Greeks,” Don replied, shaking his head. “I get you. I’ll be in touch by the end of the week,” he added. “Might be better for us to meet somewhere other than here.”
I frowned. “And why is that?”
Don chuckled. “In case this little girl gets it in her head that you’re having her tailed,” he said, raising his eyebrows and laughing. “She might do the same thing.”
I shook my head. “She wouldn’t do that,” I said.
“Ah, but that’s what you wanna believe,” Don replied. “And that ain’t my business – trust me, man, I’m here to make things as transparent for you as possible.”
I gave Crosetti a five-hundred dollar advance, then pulled on my jacket and left his grimy office. The whole thing felt kind of sordid and strange, even though I knew it was all perfectly legal.
As soon as I was outside, I pulled out my phone and dialed Honey. Again, it went straight to voicemail.
Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. What the hell was I supposed to do to get back in her good graces?
I knew Honey didn’t think of herself as a very materialistic person, but then again, she’d grown up rich. I wondered if making a grand gesture would do anything to increase the odds of her talking to me again.
I hailed a cab, climbed in the backseat, and had them take me to a jewelry store in Manhattan. As soon as I walked through the doors, I spotted the perfect thing. It was a diamond solitaire necklace, dangling from a sculpted hand statue.
“Sir? Can I help you?” A young woman in a black dress came over, smiling.
“Yeah,” I said, pointing at the diamond pendant. “I want that.”
The woman chuckled. “Sir, you have excellent taste. I’m sure she’ll love it!”
I whipped out my credit card, had the woman gift-box the pendant, then tucked the box in my pocket. “Is there a florist around here?” I asked.
The woman blushed. “Wow,” she said. “If I can admit this, I’m jealous of your girlfriend!”
I laughed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
The woman flushed even brighter. “Wow,” she repeated. “Are you single?”
“Hopefully not,” I said drily. “So, is there a florist around here or not?”
The woman directed me three blocks uptown. Sure enough, there was an upscale boutique florist with a small storefront teeming with flowers. After selecting a huge bouquet of pink and white peonies, I ducked back in the cab and gave the driver Honey’s address.
“Someone’s making up for a fight,” the driver muttered under his breath.
I rolled my eyes.
By now, it was the middle of the afternoon and traffic was thicker than before. The cab practically crawled through the streets. By the time we got to Honey’s, I was drenched in sweat and nervous. It was crazy – talking to women had never made me nervous.
So, what was it about Honey that made me feel so anxious?
I was glad I had the bouquet in one hand – holding the flowers in front of me made me feel a little more in control. I climbed the stairs to Honey’s apartment, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.
Seconds later, the door swung open. A girl – not Honey – blinked at me.
“What do you want?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Beth, isn’t it?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Is Honey home?”
Beth glanced over her shoulder and sighed. “She really doesn’t want to see you right now,” she said. “Trust me.”
“I know,” I said quickly. “But please, just tell her it’ll only take five minutes.”
Beth spotted the flowers, and her eyes grew wide. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll try.”
She shut the door in my face, and I listened to her footsteps pacing across the floor, followed by a volley of female voices. Please, I thought. Please, just give me one more chance.
After what felt like ages, the door swung open again. Honey stood there, arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing an emerald-green silk blouse and a black pencil skirt, and she looked both professional and sexy. I wondered if she’d just gotten home from work.
“What do you want?” Honey asked.
“I want to apologize,” I said simply. “I fucked up, Honey.”
Honey stared at me for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah,” she said. “You did.”
“I got a PI to trail Pamela because I know that kid isn’t mine,” I said. “And I don’t care about the deal, but I want you in my life.”
Honey’s expression softened. She noticed the flowers and raised her eyebrows. “Those are beautiful,” she said.
“They’re for you.”
Honey blinked. “Thank you,” she said softly, taking the flowers in her arms.
“And this is for you, too,” I said, reaching into my pocket and passing over the gift-wrapped necklace. “It’s not because I think you want someone to buy your affection, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you, and how much I want you in my life.”
Honey’s lower lip trembled, but she didn’t reply.
“Please,” I said softly. “Please give me another chance,” I smirked. “Besides, if you don’t, I’m just going to order hundreds and hundreds of flowers to be sent to your apartment,” I added. “And somehow, I don’t think you want all of that attention.”
Honey bit her lip and flushed.
“Please go out with me tomorrow night,” I said. “I want to make this right.”
I wasn’t prepared for the full force of Honey throwing herself in my arms. She pressed her lithe body to mine and her lips to my own, kissing me deeply and wrapping her arms around my neck. Honey purred and moaned as I put my hands on her trim waist and held her close.
“Oh, Peter,” Honey murmured in my neck, breaking the kiss and pulling away. “I thought you hated me.”
I snorted. “I could never hate you,” I said softly. “Don’t you know that?”
Honey’s jewel-green eyes focused on my own, and I saw her expression was devoid of humor or laughter.
“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t know that. Peter, why would you want someone like me? You could have anyone,” she added.
“But I want you,” I said. “I mean it, Honey. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Honey bit her lip and sighed. To my relief, her pretty features broke out into a wide smile.
“Okay,” Honey said. “I’ll go out with you.” She leaned closer and kissed my cheek. “And I still want the deal,” she added. “As long as you do.”
A tidal wave of relief washed over me, and I picked Honey up and swung her around in the air.
“Yes,” I said fiercely. “Yes, I want the deal. And I want you.”
Honey grinned. She kissed me again, and a hot bolt of lust ran through my body. My balls ached – suddenly, I wanted to strip her professional attire off right then and there and take her in the hallway.
And by the mischievous look on Honey’s face, I had a feeling she felt the same as I.