When I opened them, Grace was looking at me with sorrow.
“Chris, I’m so sorry.”
“How could he do this to me?” I said in disbelief. “He said he was trying to watch out for me, to protect me. I thought…I know he wasn’t happy when I was born, but I thought he loved me. He’s my dad.”
“Money turns people into roaches,” she said, not unkindly. “There was a lot of money on the line. Maybe he got caught up in the moment.”
“He didn’t,” I said bitterly. “He’s never liked me, let alone loved me. He always said I ruined his life. I thought he was exaggerating, but he was telling me the truth the entire time. I just didn’t want to hear it.”
She gave me a pitying look.
“Grace,” I said helplessly. “I think I made a terrible mistake.”
“Oh, Chris,” she began, but I turned abruptly and left.
58
Grace
I started sneezing the minute I walked into my old apartment the next morning.
“This is not fit for habitation,” I told the landlord. He shrugged and took a bite of his hoagie. Bits of lettuce dripped onto the squishy carpet.
“You want to leave? You give up your rent control,” he said around the mouthful of food. “All the other tenants said their apartments were fine.”
“There’s plywood over the windows and scorch marks all over the ceiling.” I pointed.
The landlord handed me a can of paint.
“Are you staying or what? I’ve already had three inquiries this morning.”
“I guess we’re staying,” I said dejectedly.
“Too bad Chris completely lost the plot,” Gran said, filling up a bucket with soapy water. “He sure had some sweet digs.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking around. I had no energy to clean. But I was paying storage unit fees to store all of my things. I needed the apartment serviceable before I could move them back in.
Gran patted my arm. “Chin up! You can find a new guy.”
“I’m not finding any more guys. That’s how I got screwed over the last time. I’m adopting feral cats. No more men.”
“You just have to climb back in the saddle. Once you’re divorced, you’ll have guys lined up,” Gran assured me.
“I don’t have time to date. I need to work so we can afford a new place to live,” I said, grabbing a rag and dipping it in the suds.
“My OnlyFans account is really taking off,” Gran assured me. “And I’ve had several people want me to do sperm disposal. See?”
I peered at her messages.
“Gran, I don’t think you should go see any of these men. I don’t think they’re NFL athletes wanting you to destroy their sperm. It seems like these men are involved in some sort of weird fetish.”
“I know!” Gran said happily. “Isn’t it great? I’ve pivoted. I’m the only person on OnlyFans who you can mail your spunk to and I’ll cook it live on camera.”
“I need to move,” I said to the soot-and-wax-encrusted ceiling.
My phone rang, and I dumped the rag in the sink and answered it.
“I’m so glad I caught you!”
“Hi, Victoria,” I said.
“Your article is blowing up!” she relayed giddily. “I have been fielding calls all day from morning shows and late-night shows. Everyone wants to have you on! Oh, also, you need to come down to the office and sign on for your multi-book contract!”
I started to sink down to the floor in shock then remembered the carpet was a hazardous waste zone.
“That’s amazing!” I said, trying not to squeal like a teenager. “Thank you! I’m on my way!”
Victoria was waiting in the glass-enclosed conference room when the receptionist led me back.
“Man, what an article!” she declared, giving me a hug. “When I say I’ve literally been on the phone about it all day, I mean it. Ever since it hit last night, it’s been nonstop. We need to strike while everyone’s still talking about you.” She handed me a stack of papers.
“This is your contract. Not only are there the coffee-table books that we want to publish annually for the next three years, but we also want you to write a memoir about your time with Chris and being in the wedding industry generally.”
“I’m not sure I can write that.”
“We’re not going to make it mean-spirited,” Victoria assured me. “Trust me, I’ve already had several very famous socialites who you have worked with in the past wanting to know about the book deal. It raises their cachet to be talked about. It will all be aboveboard, only brides who want to talk!”