Her jaw tightened and I could tell she was wishing the worst sort of pain on me. “I was going to tell the world about your petty, vindictiveness in business and how the town of Salvation beat you. I’m a journalist, not a gossip columnist.”
Jesus, I should just pull over and let her out. “You have some nerve after what you did. And you’re still trying to make money off me. Talk about vindictive. You’re not a professional. This is personal for you. I found out about you and got rid of you and this is your revenge.”
“You don't know anything about anything.”
“Why are you even still here? The story is dead.”
“Nebraska Now killed it, but it’s not dead. As we speak, I have queries out to several magazines. Some of them are national.”
I looked at her wondering how a woman could act so loving and yet be so deceitful and dishonest. Yes, I was an asshole, but I never hid that. I could be polite and charming, but it wasn’t a ruse. It wasn’t like Leslie’s black widow behavior luring someone into a web. I was angry, but at that moment, I felt like I had that night when I realized all the hopes and dreams that I’d had for loving life with her were all an illusion.
I flipped on the blinker even though no cars were coming. I turned to my drive, the gate of my home automatically opening as my car was equipped with an automatic opener.
“Leave me out here.”
I drove through the gate. “I’ll get your car fixed and you can get out of town. The sooner the better.”
“Don’t bother.”
“It’s no bother.” I skidded to a halt in front of my home. I turned her to her, hating that seeing her face could conjure up such emotion in me. “Don’t kid yourself Leslie or Erica or whatever you go by now. You’re not professional. You’re out to get me because you weren’t able to dupe me into marriage.”
Her eyes flashed with confusion but quickly morphed back into anger. “This is about stopping your terrorizing of a town.”
I shook my head. “If you’re a professional, then you should have interviewed me or people who know me. This is your chance, love—”
“Stop calling me that.” It was the first sign of emotion other than anger I saw in her. Like the word brought back something bittersweet for her, just like she did to me. But she was an actress and I couldn’t trust her behavior.
“You have until your car is fixed and delivered to ask me questions.”
“Like you’d tell me the truth.”
“First off, I don’t lie. Second, I’m pretty sure professional journalists always talk to all parties whether they think they’re going to be lied to or not.”
She let out a frustrated grunt. “Fine.”
“Fine.” I got out and would have gone around to open her door. I did have manners, but she got out on her own and stalked up my front steps.
I watched her for a moment feeling like this was a bad idea. Not that she’d print something bad. I knew that was her goal. No this was a bad idea because despite everything, I wanted her. I desperately wanted that dream I concocted for us and even though my head told me it was all a sham, my heart yearned for it to be real.
4
Erica
What the hell was I thinking? I should have never gotten in the car with him. I definitely shouldn’t have been walking into his house. And yet, he was guiding me to his office while he told a man named Marvin to call for a tow truck and to get my car serviced and brought here.
I replayed our conversation in the car. He had some nerve making me out to be the bad guy. He still thought I’d lied about the baby. That I was just duping him to get money. I decided to let him think that for now. The last thing I needed was for a bastard like him to be a part of my son’s life. A part of me felt that was wrong, and yet, I’d done my part. I’d told him about the baby and he was the one who chose not to be involved.
I was holding onto my anger pretty well until a moment that he looked at me like I’d ruined his life. Like I’d killed his dream. He was a man that kept his thoughts and feelings well-guarded, but in that moment, I thought I saw him. The man I’d fallen in love with.
Of course, that was probably wishful thinking. The truth was, while I knew that my time with him was clouded by my fairy tale dreams that weren’t real, I still wanted that. Even now, I had dreams of him where he was sweet and kind. Where he was a loving father to Mason. But dreams weren’t real. I had to remind myself of that. This was the man who did rotten things to mess up people’s lives, including killing my story.
In his office, he went to a bar and poured a drink. I walked over to the bay window and looked out although I didn’t really notice what was there.
“Why are you letting me interview you when we both know you’ll work to kill the story,” I finally asked. My voice was dull. Like I’d lost all my steam.
“I’m curious as to what you will ask and how you’d skew it.”
I turned to see him leaning against his desk.