Chapter Twenty-Nine - Rochelle
I will not cry. I will not cry. I repeat this over and over in my head as I make my way through the White Room and the lobby and right through the big revolving front doors. I don’t even have my car here. I’m fucking at the mercy of the drivers.
I wait.
Thankfully, they keep Bric’s car parked right down the block, so it pulls up and the valet opens the door for me. I scoot in, relieved to see that the car seat is still strapped in.
The door closes and I let out a sad sigh. So this is where it all falls apart? I should’ve known Smith would start more shit after he paid me that visit last week. Asshole.
And now I know the little secret he’s been keeping about me. Well, fuck him. Just fuck him.
The door opens again and Kitty Foster is standing there. “Oh, good. Hahaha.” It’s a nervous, happy laugh. “I was afraid I’d miss you.”
“Why, God?” I say out loud as I buckle Adley in her seat. She smells like champagne. That stupid bitch Helen. I cannot believe she threw a drink on me.
“Oh, honey,” Kitty says, still nervously laughing as she gets in the car and closes the door. “What’s a little public humiliation between friends, right?”
She smells like champagne too. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Foster.”
“No, no, no,” she says, patting my arm. “It’s Kitty. We’re family now.”
“Didn’t you just hear all that? She’s not Quin’s baby. Smith Baldwin is an asshole.”
Kitty looks at me sympathetically. “I don’t know what’s going on, but Rochelle, I have some idea. These boys…” She looks away. “Well, they like to think I’m naïve and innocent. But I just play along, honey. No mother wants to discuss her son’s sexual… preferences, right? Hahaha!” Another nervous laugh. Then she stops the laugh and says, seriously now, “Maybe proclivity is a better word?”
I just look at her, then lean forward to talk to the driver. “Can you take me home, please?”
“Sure, Miss Bastille,” he says.
“And button up the divider, huh, Ben?” Kitty says. “Us girls need to talk.”
“No problem, Kitty.” The glass between us and the driver slides up and we are left alone.
So. She’s a regular around here. I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does. I have never seen her around the Club. Was her husband a member? Is that why Quin’s a member?
Maybe that life he led wasn’t as normal as I first thought.
It shouldn’t make me feel better, but it does. I cannot believe how fucking all-American Quin Foster is. It makes me… insecure. Why would he want a fucked-up girl like me? Why? When he could have anyone he wants?
But no, that’s not right about his father being a member. Not at this Club, at least. This Club belongs to Smith and Bric. I know that for a fact. And they haven’t owned it that long.
But everyone seems to know her. And she knows about Bric and Smith.
“Listen.” Kitty leans into me and whispers. “I know what they do here.”
I feel even worse knowing she knows.
“And I know who you are. Quin has talked about you a little. But he’s not the one who told me about Adley.” She takes a moment to look at her. “It was Chella. Quin didn’t set this up to ambush you into meeting me, sweetie. I did. I talked Chella into it. So don’t be mad at Quin.”
“I’m not mad at Quin.” I sigh. “I’m not mad at him at all. There is absolutely nothing about Quin to be mad about. He’s perfect, in fact. Way too perfect for someone like me. And now that Smith just told him about that fight I had with—” I sigh again. Louder. Longer. “Well, now he’s gonna know what a total piece of shit I am.”
“Smith is Smith, Rochelle.” Kitty’s snapped into mother mode. “You know him far better than I do. But even I know how he is. He has some facts right, maybe?”
I nod my head and swallow hard.
“So he knows something you haven’t told anyone else?”
“Yes,” I say. “What he said was true, but he doesn’t know the whole story. He should not have said that. Especially in front of all those people.”
“I believe you,” she says. “I think he probably knows that as well. You handled that altercation with grace and dignity.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I really wanted to tell him to fuck off.”
We laugh.
“But not in a room filled with people.”
“I totally understand. But the reason I came in the car with you was to make sure you understand why my son does this.”
“This?” I ask.
“Sharing business,” Kitty says, waving her hand in the air. “I know about it. I have seen him change over the years. Especially since his father died. You see, this is probably all my fault.”
“What?”
Kitty laughs again. “Hahahaha. I can’t say for certain how I know. Quin and I don’t talk about our sex lives. But it goes back to my relationship with his father.”
“You shared men?”
“I wish. Hahaha.”
“I’m sorry, what are you saying then?” I’m so confused.
“I’m going to let him tell you. I think he’s figured it out. He’s been struggling lately. And I know most of that goes back to his relationship with you.”
Well, that’s just great.
The car pulls up to the loft and stops in front of the lobby doors. The driver gets out. “But don’t walk away before he tells you, Rochelle. Even if it takes him a little while to work through it. This is my granddaughter,” she says, patting Adley’s arm. “I can tell. Grandmothers know these things. But even if she isn’t through blood, she is through love. Remember that.”
My door opens. I unbuckle Adley’s seat and the driver lifts it out for me.
“I’ll see you soon, Adley,” Kitty calls.
I walk into the building and get into the elevator. When I get upstairs I take Adley out of her seat and just sit in front of the window, wondering how the hell this day went so wrong.
And how am I going to explain myself to Quin?
The elevator dings and opens. Bric walks out. “Hey, Quin’s not here yet?”
“Is he coming?” I ask, looking back at the window.
“Of course he’s coming,” Bric says. “Why wouldn’t he come? I told him to meet me here so we can discuss what the hell just happened. Are you still wearing that dress?” he asks, walking over to me. “Go change, Rochelle. Everything is going to be fine.”
I don’t think anything is going to be fine. But I get up anyway. I have to get Adley out of her clothes too.
“Here,” Bric says. “I’ll take care of Adley. You take care of yourself.”
I don’t fight him. I can’t. The mistakes are all I can think about. I just hand Adley over and go in to the bedroom. I pull on a pair of jeans and one of my well-worn Pagosa Springs t-shirts.
Bric brings a refreshed Adley into the bedroom, just as I’m finishing up.
“You’re quiet,” Bric says.
“I just keep hearing Smith’s accusation over and over again.”
“Yeah, well… I just keep hearing that stupid detective announcing the fact that he’s the one who found you. I cannot believe he did that.”
“There’s just… so many lies,” I say. I feel so defeated. I don’t even know how to describe it.
“Just stick to the story,” Bric says. “Come on, we’ll get a drink and wait for Quin—”
“I’m right here,” Quin says. He’s standing in the hallway. Still. Like he was about to come in the bedroom, but he heard us talking and decided to see what we had to say when he wasn’t around.
“Perfect,” I mutter, taking Adley from Bric and going out to sit in my window chair again. “That’s just perfect.”