On a Tuesday (One Week 1)

“No, Anna said that—” He stopped himself. “I trusted Anna to hire all the firms. I didn’t handle that personally.”

Silence.

“I guess now I know why she was insistent on buying me new phones and installing ‘alerts’ in the event you ever called.” He gritted his teeth. “All this time. All this goddamn time...”

We didn’t say anything else to each other. We just sat in silence, both regretting the lost and stolen years. The lies and lines of botched miscommunication.

At three a.m., Grayson stood up and reached for my hand. “Let me drive you home.”

“Can we walk instead?”

“Absolutely.”

I stood up and gave him my hand, and we walked out of the café amidst New York’s chilly night air. When we made it to my brownstone, he walked me up the steps and looked into my eyes.

“I’m sorry I allowed this to happen,” he said. “I don’t know what to do next regarding ‘us’ or how to begin processing this, but I do need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Open the letter you get from me this week.” He kissed my forehead. “Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

He watched me unlock the door and I stepped inside. “Goodnight, Grayson.”

“Goodnight, Charlotte.”

GRAYSON: NOW

Present Day

New York City

SUBJECT: URGENT.

Anna,

Meet me at my condo. Now.

—Grayson

I SPED AROUND TOWN in an utter rage for an hour—driving through side streets and bridges to burn off my anger. I’d managed to keep my composure around Charlotte, but with every bit of the missing story she told, all I could think about was how one of the people closest to me had methodically ruined two lives and stolen seven years.

Parking my car in the garage, I took the elevator to my penthouse suite and noticed the door was already ajar. I took a deep breath and braced myself for coming face to face with Anna.

“Hey there, Grayson!” She set her book down as soon as I walked into my living room. “What’s so important that you wanted to see me at this hour?”

“You’re fucking fired.”

“Excuse me?”

“You. Are. Fucking. Fired.”

"You sure about that?" She crossed her arms and stood to her feet. "I'll file a lawsuit for wrongful termination in a heartbeat, so you better have a damn good explanation."

“Charlotte Taylor.” My blood was still boiling. “You knew exactly where she was all this time and you acted like you didn’t when you told me about the reunion.” I stepped closer to her. "You purposely ruined what we had with your bullshit, for no reason. No reason."

She raised her eyebrow, looking completely nonchalant.

"You were supposed to act in my best professional interest. You had no right to interfere in my private life."

"I interfered with good reason, Grayson."

“Are you fucking serious?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

"Yes." She hissed. "I prevented you from being another Ted Brewer—another lovesick dope who let his "girlfriend" convince him that his fifty-million-dollar contract wasn't worth it anymore. The same girlfriend who left him and got half of his money because he was dumb enough to marry her before he played his first minute in the league." Her face was beet red. "You knew Charlotte for what? Two semesters at that point? You had no idea if she was a gold-digger or not and you have no clue what lengths a woman will go through to string a meal ticket along. You should be thanking me and giving me a raise for ensuring she wasn't a distraction."

“Her being pregnant was a distraction to you?”

Her face paled and she swallowed. “I thought she was making that up to get your attention. Lots of girls suddenly claim they're pregnant when their boyfriends get drafted into the league.”

“She was going to be my fiancée.”

“Even worse.”

“So your whole ‘reroute your phone number to this new phone’ strategy was never what you said it was. It was a way to make sure you could control who contacted me, right? Let’s forget about the ‘why’ for a second. How the fuck did you do that?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Answer me, Anna. Now.”

"I blocked her number and email address on all your lines since the new phones we bought you were under our agency account," she said, her voice low.

“And?”

“And I did a reverse patch so whenever you reached out to her via text or phone, she wouldn't get it. All your emails landed in my inbox first before they reached whoever you were trying to contact. Whenever you emailed her, I just deleted it."

I couldn't believe I didn't see this shit before. "There was no reason for you to hide the pregnancy from me."

"I asked her to send me an official ultrasound." Her voice was still soft. "If she sent it, I would've let you know, and we would've handled it, but...She clearly wasn’t pregnant because she never sent it to me. She just wanted to be in the spotlight as your girlfriend back then. That’s why she was always at every dinner meeting with you and giving her unnecessary opinions. Remember?”