Chapter Twenty-One
Leah
“Dylan came through with the money. All of it.”
I pause where I’m trying to juggle Maddie and Tommy and plates of chicken, my shoulder pressing the phone to my ear.
Emma sounds utterly distraught.
“Umm…you…don’t sound so happy about that, Em.”
“Mommy!” Maddie jumps up and down, trying to see her food.
I decided to make fried chicken as a treat - partly because I’m feeling a hell of a lot better now that I’m in the large, manor-style house Alistair found for us, and partly because with Mathilda and Tommy here it almost feels like a vacation. Which is definitely what I needed, and it’s done wonders to take my mind off everything that’s going on in NYC. I haven’t even been checking the gossip mags or sites anymore.
Alistair is still stressed when he comes home every night - but it’s a purposeful stress, a deliberate energy that…if I’m totally honest…is quite hot to watch. That’s not the most useful thing it could prompt in me - really I should be leaving him alone to work - but he hasn’t exactly said he minds when I come up behind and accost him…
Now that Emma has called in the middle of lunch, though, I’m starting to regret the whole thing. If she didn’t sound so…upset…I’d ask her to hang on for a couple of hours.
“You look frazzled.” Mathilda says as she comes in from outside. “Anything I can help with?”
I shoot her a grateful glance. “Yes - all of it, if you can. Emma’s just called—”
“Leah?” I hear from the other end of the phone.
“Yes, yes, just a moment.” I try and reply. “—and I think she needs to talk, and—”
“Mommy!” Maddie demands again, and I think my mind might explode.
“Go.” Mathilda laughs, then ruffles Maddie’s hair. “I think I can serve out some fried chicken. Smells good, girl.”
I grin at her, then disappear off to one of the many side rooms. Another thing Alistair overlooked when choosing this house - great for playing hide and seek, maybe…terrible for losing children in. We’ve tried locking half of them up.
“Okay, sorry babe. I’m all yours now. What is it?”
I hear the hesitation on the other side of the phone, and my stomach flutters uncomfortably.
More bad news? Really? We really need that right now?
“I’m…god, I don’t know how to say this. I’m really sorry, Leah. I didn’t really want to call, I just feel utter crap, and I’m such a fucking idiot and—”
“Okay. Seriously, you’re scaring me now. What the hell is going on, Emma?”
I hear her swallow this time. “He came back to me with the money - all of it, a lump sum all at once. He was so excited to start the business with me - but wouldn’t say a word about our investors, or where he got the money from, or what they wanted, and, well, I got suspicious…so I went looking. And, I…well, I think I found how he got that money. What the niche investors were really looking for.”
“Okay - just tell me. Spit it out.”
This waiting is just destroying my already frayed nerves.
“Go check out Gossip Girls.”
My heart sinks even more, but I walk down the hall to find my laptop - the thing I’ve been purposely ignoring for the last few days. I load up the site, my heart pounding in my ears as I wonder what could have affected Emma this badly.
And there, blaring straight on the front page…
‘I’m the father!’
Full-length picture of Dylan. Three photos of Maddie and Alistair. And a picture of us, from back in college - years ago.
“Fuck.” It comes out as a whisper, a disbelieving exhalation.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Leah. If I’d known—”
“This isn’t you, Em. This isn’t your fault.”
I can’t help myself. I skim the article, everything in me crashing and burning together.
He even includes the fucking anecdote about Maddie asking him if he was her father. He claims that I know he’s the father, too, but I’m just chasing the money - that part isn’t really a big deal, half the stories have that theme and I don’t exactly care what they say about me - but fuck.
Maddie.
My kid.
She doesn’t fucking deserve any of this.
Emma is saying something to me on the phone, but I can’t really hear it. I can’t listen.
“I’m sorry.” I say, finally. My mind almost blank, empty in the face of too much stuff. “It’s not you, Em. It’s him who’s the bastard. Don’t…don’t worry about it.”
“Leah…”
“I can’t talk right now.” I say, then hang up before she can respond.
Tears burn at the edges of my eyes.
There’s a part - a tiny part of me - that wonders what Alistair will think when he sees this. Whether he’ll demand that paternity test after all.
But most of me…is hurting for my baby girl. Dragged into a mess she doesn’t deserve. Not at all.
I think Mathilda finds me there a few hours later, and I couldn’t say what I’d been doing in that time. Nothing, maybe. Sitting, staring, thinking. Imagining this coming back to haunt Maddie when she’s older. Picturing what we’d tell her if she started doubting Alistair - doubting everything we’ve told her.
Thinking about all the other dirt they might try and find on us. If they’ll go this far - track down my ex, talk to him…what won’t they do?
Will they ever fucking leave us alone, even if Alistair does what he says and fixes it all?
A fix that’s taking a damn long time to come.
“Leah?” Mathilda asks. “Is everything okay? Is Emma—”
She stops short as she sees what I’m staring at. The article.
“Fuck.”
I almost laugh that her reaction is so similar to mine, except it’s not at all funny. It’s just my mind, wanting to be hysterical because it’s easier than actually thinking.
“Leah…”
I just shake my head. I can’t talk. I still have no idea what to think. No idea what to do.
She hesitates, then squeezes my shoulder.
Stays with me for a long time, not saying anything. Neither of us saying anything.
“Are you…”
I shake my head again. Totally unable to deal right now.
“I’ll take care of Maddie and Tommy, okay?” She says softly, after a long time - and then she leaves the room.
That comment, then the click of the door somehow wakes me up a little, though. Reminds me about some of what I have to do, anyway.
I reach for my phone - and call Alistair. I want to talk to him in person, but I can’t wait that long. And if he doesn’t know about this yet…it’s not fair for someone else to show him.
“Hey, baby, is everything okay?” I can hear the smile in his voice - so he obviously hasn’t seen the article.
“You should look up Gossip Girls online.” I say.
It’s all I can say, but at least I managed it without the several-minute long build up that Emma put me through.
I can almost hear him bracing himself, and the click of his mouse at his desktop computer as he navigates to the site.
Then the intake of breath.
“It’s not true.” I say, and I can hear the lack of emotion in my voice. I feel broken, somewhere deep inside. “In case you were wondering. Dylan and I split up about a year before I started dating you—”
“Leah.” He stops me. “I don’t think it’s true - any more than you thought that other kid was mine. Maddie is my girl. It’s fucking obvious for anyone to see.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to get a pat—”
“Don’t even say it. Fuck, you know I love you anyway. If you had a kid that wasn’t mine, I’d raise her the same anyway. You know that.”
I blink at that, the sentiment taking me by surprise.
No, I didn’t quite know that.
It almost breaks through the haze I feel surrounding me. Almost.
“Which is irrelevant anyway, because Maddie is mine. My perfect, beautiful girl.”
Okay, if he started cracking the wall around me before…hearing the love and care in his voice completely smashes it in.
And all I can do is let out one hoarse, broken word.
“Maddie.”
They came after my little girl. Our little girl. They wrecked her.
If anything could destroy me…that’s it. That’s what it would take.
From the long, hard breath I hear on the other end of the phone, I can feel the same thing going through Alistair.
And when he speaks, it almost sounds like the way I feel.
“I’ll leave.” He says slowly, in the most defeated tone I’ve ever heard from him. “It’s not worth it. I’ll give the company over to Barkley and retire with you somewhere no one else can find us. And where these stories will never reach her.”
I sit there, stunned, for one long moment.
I was expecting him to pick me up. To tell me something that would fix it all. Well, either that, or slam the phone down and tell me he never wanted to see me again. But since he didn’t believe them…I thought he’d…fix it. Get me through the broken, coarse mess I feel right now. But, of course, he’s going through the same shit.
Hearing him like that, though, it’s just…it’s not right. Which is enough to break through my own desolation - just for a moment.
“But…what about what you were working on? Your plan? Is it…it’s not working?”
“It’s not working fast enough. And it’s not worth staying here and dealing with this for the time it takes for everything to fall into place - while more stories like this one might appear. Who the hell knows when this will resurface in her life, Leah? Fuck. Playing politics and going after me is one thing - but you and Maddie? No. I couldn’t deal with it if something happened to either of you.”
I take a deep breath, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions. I’d been thinking the exact same thing only a moment ago, but…hearing him say it, it sounds so much worse.
This is his company. His life. And just giving up, because they’ve come after us like that…
It feels wrong.
“Nothing has happened to us - to Maddie and I - apart from some shit written in trashy papers. We’re alright, Alistair. We’ve come this far…and damn it, I don’t want to just give up on it all and let them win.”
I’m not sure what’s changed, because giving up on it all was exactly what I’d felt like doing.
But something in what he said - the idea of my strong, powerful man quitting the thing he’s spent his life building…it flipped it all around for me. Broke through the numb defeat I was feeling - and into the simmering fury that was building underneath.
Anger at everything that’s happened - and at them for targeting my girl. Our daughter. The idea of letting them get away with that…enrages me.
“They came after Maddie, Alistair. I can’t just run away from that. We can deal with the shit - and your plan will work. We’ll be alright. Just don’t let all this be for nothing.”
He takes a deep breath - I can hear it on the other end of the phone. And I hold my own breath as I wait for his response, hoping he’ll see my point. Hoping he won’t give up on everything else he cares about, just because they’re fucking with our family.
The only way for this to work, is for us to get through that. Together. Not run away and pretend it’s not happening.
And we will get through it. As a family.
“Okay. You’re right, Leah. God, this is all just fucking getting to me now.”
“I know. Me too - but we’ll deal with it all together. As a family. And we’ll protect Maddie from any of this crap ever hitting her again. We’ll change it.”
My own determination takes me by surprise, but somehow - talking to Alistair - I feel strong again. Capable. Able to deal with all the shit that’s come our way.
“Yes, ma’am.” He says, and the gentle affection there only eases my heart more.
He’s the best man I could ever ask for - and it’s got nothing to do with his fortune, and everything to do with that right there. That’s why it will all work.
“You might have been good at this when it was all about business, Alistair. But when protecting your family is involved? You’ll be fucking invincible.”
I hear him laughing on the other end, the confidence back in his tone - and for the first time since I saw that article, I actually smile.
* * *
Unfortunately, after firing myself up with the passion to get through this - the only thing anyone seems to require of me is patience. Waiting. Not my strongest skill at the best of times - and when I’ve got all this protective momma bear instinct wanting me to strike out at the people who dragged my girl into all this…well, frustrating is putting it lightly.
I trust Alistair.
I don’t know his plan in detail, but I believe he can sort this out.
He’s busy and stressed, working late and plotting endless meetings with different people - but that energy is back. That determination. And whenever we look at each other, it only solidifies further. For both of us. And that’s a beautiful thing in itself - something I love about him.
When it all seems like shit, we pull each other up. We deal with each other’s dark moments. And we’re going to get through this.
But it doesn’t stop me wishing I could do something myself - that I could help, in some way.
I scan the gossip websites - not out of depressive curiosity anymore, but in militant battle-mode, to check whether anything else has come up that might hurt us. Prepare for it.
Nothing does, though. The story about Dylan prompted a frenzy of information about him - but when neither Alistair nor Dylan made any further commentary, it all became largely circular commentary.
So I try and distract myself with Maddie and Tommy and Mathilda - who are loving it further out in the country, with a big house and a garden to play in. Alistair got that right, too.
But the days feel like they’re creep by so slowly, and part of me wonders whether journalists are going to turn up here.
Just as I’ve started to give up on being able to contribute to this any more than simply letting Alistair work - I get a call.
Unknown number. Which makes me immediately suspicious, but I answer anyway, stepping away from where the kids are playing.
“Hello?”
“Things are going badly for you, Leah Jackson.”
Chills run straight down my spine. The voice is almost familiar, but it’s the words that hit me.
How does he know my name?
He continues talking into my silence.
“You’re caught up in the biggest scandal of the year and the money is about to dry up. You should get out while you still can.”
“Who is this? What do you want?”
What he’s saying sounds deliberately threatening, and my heart jumps into my throat as I hear it - but even so, part of my mind is still thinking, still assessing.
This has to be part of everything else that’s happening in NYC. I glance at my phone, and quickly start pushing buttons until I’m recording the call.
It can’t hurt.
I manage to do it just as he answers me.
“I want you to leave. Sinclair & Barkley is going down, and it’s because of you - your wretched influence on Alistair. He’s gone weak and pathetic since you conned him into thinking he’s your baby’s daddy - and the company’s value is plummeting for it. He’s done, Leah. He’ll be done soon enough. And when that happens - your rich sugar daddy will be ruined. No more money, nothing. Leave now, and I’ll give you enough to live on comfortably - you and that brat of yours. That’s all you can hope for now.”
And I suddenly know, with complete certainty, who this is. The voice and the words and the arrogance clicking into place.
I barely breathe. Wanting to catch every word. Wanting him to say more and more.
“He is Maddie’s daddy.” I say, repeating the same thing I always have. The truth.
The voice at the other end of the phone snorts.
“Saying it a dozen times might have convinced Alistair that it’s true, but some of us have a little more sense. I have no idea what you’ve done to wrap him around your finger, but it’s fucking black magic as far as I’m concerned.” He says, then mutters something else - something I almost don’t catch, but I’m straining hard, and holding my breath as we talk. “Thought for sure he’d demand a test after that article.”
And I freeze, my stomach curling with an uncomfortable sourness as I suddenly know - with chilling certainty - where Dylan’s article came from.
Who his mystery investor was.
“You paid for that article. About Dylan.”
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, admit it.
He snorts again.
“Yeah, fat lot of good it did. And if Alistair’s judgment has sunk that badly…well, there’s no hope for the boy. But I need you out of NYC. The media is getting out of control, and I can’t have you sticking around for all of that to hound us—”
Oh, he can’t deal with the media, now? Fucking bastard.
I don’t say it. I manage to hold it back. Just.
“What are you saying?” I ask instead, deliberately playing dumb.
I want it as clear as possible.
“You really are a dumb slut, aren’t you? You heard me - you won’t be getting any more money from Alistair soon enough. But if you leave now, I’ll give you a few hundred thousand, and you can blow it however you like.”
My heart pounds in my chest. If I wasn’t so tense from the recording, I might be outraged by his offer. As it is…I’m excited.
Just one more part.
“Barkley?” I say, lightly - like I’m asking for his attention, not his name. Like it’s just a beginning to another sentence.
He grunts. “Yeah?”
Got you!
“Fuck off.”
I have the immense satisfaction of hanging up on that.
Maybe it’s petty to want the last word, but…no, actually. With this guy, nothing is petty.
I listen to the recording on repeat a good dozen times - then back it up. And back it up again.
I have no idea whether it will be helpful, but…it’s something. Something that I could do.
And when Alistair gets home, I almost drag him into our room to show him the recording. The way his eyes light up, glance over to the bed and then cloud with disappointment as I pull out my phone…is almost comical. Or maybe I’m just giddy.
“Here. Listen to this.”
He presses ‘play’ and almost as soon as it comes on, he tenses. As it goes on, I can almost see the anger building in him - and I can tell he’s listening to the offer, not the recording.
The moment I get to ‘fuck off’, something eases a little bit. His eyes crinkle at the edges and I think he felt some small part of my enjoyment there.
“Leah…” He wrinkles his brow.
“I don’t know what you’ve got planned - not exactly - but I thought this might help. It’d show his character to people, anyway. And he admits to paying for that article.”
Alistair just looks at me for a moment, clearly distracted by the content of the call, but then a small smile starts to spread across his face, and he glances at the phone again.
Then he steps forward and kisses me - deep and lingering and sensual. Enough that I start regret that my first thought when we came in here wasn’t about the bed.
“Yes. You know what…this could help a lot.” He’s still standing only inches apart from me, and he strokes my cheek in a gentle caress. “Thank you, Leah. That was…very quick of you, to think to record it. If it’d been me, the moment I heard his voice I probably would’ve been seething too much to think.”
“Well, he dropped it right into my lap.” I grin.
Somehow the idea of this coming to us because of him makes it even better.
I think back over something else that had occurred to me, as I’d listened to it on repeat.
“You know - he did almost sound concerned for you, there. Like he genuinely thought I was manipulating you, and you didn’t know better. It was…almost strange.”
Alistair shrugs. “We have worked together for years - there’s a lot there, alongside the animosity. The problems we’ve had - he just thinks you make me weak, and he can’t tolerate that weakness.”
I raise my eyebrow at that.
“Do you think we make you weak?”
It seems like a valid question, considering he almost gave up his business for us.
“No.” He says emphatically, leaning in to kiss me again. “You make me stronger and sharper and more focused than I’ve ever been - you were right about that, Leah.”
I smile, unable to help the flutter of pleasure that gives me.
“Then go show him that, Alistair.” I murmur, my mouth playing at his, wondering whether maybe we have time…
He blinks suddenly, draws away as he looks back at me.
“Or maybe…maybe I let him think exactly what he wants to.” He says with a sudden grin, then cups my face with both hands, pulling me in for another panty-melting, sparks-flying kiss. “Thank you, Leah. You just gave me the last answer I needed.”
Excited, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room - and I’m left looking mournfully at where he just was, then over at the bed.
Damn business.
This had damn well better be over soon.
We have a whole lot to catch up on.