missed calls and texts, some from Ross, some from Abi, some from unknown numbers.
My phone dings in my hand. “Archie says he’ll come around and meet me out front,” I tell her. After asking if I’m sure, she kisses my cheek and walks me in that direction.
The front sliding doors to the hospital open and suddenly, I’m blinded by a flash.
“There she is!” someone yells, and it’s like blood in the Amazon river. Instead of piranha, though, I’m surrounded by journalists, paparazzi, and more cameramen than were at the wedding.
“How’s your grandfather?” one asks, but it’s the only halfway sympathetic question yelled at me.
Every other question I can make out is insane.
How do I feel about my fraud? Am I a gold digger or a sugar baby? How much did Ross pay me? Did Colin pay me? What kind of magic pussy tricks do I have to get two of the city’s hottest bachelors fighting over me?
“What?” I cry out at that last one, horrified at his crudeness. “Excuse me,” I say, pushing my way through.
Behind me, I hear Aunt Sofia. “Just go, honey! I’ll get the cousins!”
I’m not sure if she means that she’ll get them to beat the shit out of the reporters, which while that sounds good, is definitely a bad idea, or if she means she’ll ride with them to Nana’s and to just leave her.
I pray she means the second one and dive into Archie’s car as he pulls up. He peels out of the lot, looking in his rearview mirror. “Sorry, Vi! I came up through the parking garage and had no idea they were out there.” He looks pale, and for his dark complexion, that’s saying something. He was scared back there too.
They think I did this for money because of who Ross is or because I’m some sort of kept-woman whore. Regardless of the questions, they all say the same thing. I’ve ruined my life and the lives of a bunch of other people, too.
Archie is hesitant to leave me and even fills my rinky-dink tub for me, but that just reminds me of Ross and the tears start to flow again.
Archie tries to joke lightly, testing the waters. “Oh, no, she’s leaking.” But even his overexaggerated look of ‘what do I do’ doesn’t change my dull expression.
“I’m sorry, Arch. I just can’t. You can leave me alone to wallow in my own pity party. I’m okay, I promise.”
He eyes me thoughtfully and then does what he always does, takes care of me. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll grab you a glass of wine . . . hmm, make that the bottle. And I’ll get your softest PJs and set them on the counter. You hop in the tub and cry it all out. I’ll have food delivered later, so answer the door, but look out the peephole first because I wouldn’t put it past those sharks to impersonate a delivery guy. You . . . bath, eat, sleep. Got it?”
I nod, not having heard most of what he said. But he leaves after a few minutes and finally . . . finally, I’m truly alone to fall apart.
Papa.
Ross.
What have I done?
Chapter 27
Ross—Thursday—5 Days After the Wedding
Despite my promise to my mother that I would fix this, as Thursday morning dawns, I’ve been doing a lot more talking than fixing. I’ve talked to the hospital, I’ve talked to doctors, I’ve talked to the media, and I’ve talked to executives around the company.
But I haven’t been able to talk to Violet. She hasn’t returned my calls or texts, and when I’ve called her office, all Archie tells me is that yes, he told her I called. I tried again yesterday when the couch she ordered for my office was delivered, but Archie said that the movers knew what to do. He’d apologized and said he’d be in touch soon, but it’d been his professional voice, not the friendliness I’ve come to expect from him.
Abi hasn’t been able to help either. The only time she’s been able to talk to Violet, she told Abi that right now, she’s focusing on her grandfather and that she’ll reach out when the time’s right.
So as I sit in my office, trying to prepare myself for what’s next, I feel like shit.
This isn’t what I want to be doing or where I want to be. I want to be doing whatever it takes to help Violet, to help Stefano. But I know that if I go in there, kicking down