Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“We just hung up.”
Marnie squeals. “Tell me everything without leaving a single detail out. I bet you really made him squirm.”
My heart is thundering. “Uh, actually, no, I didn’t. He came out swinging in a way I hadn’t anticipated, and I was too stunned to reply coherently.”
“Shit,” Marnie whispers. “He figured out our engagement is a hoax?”
“No, he bought my mother’s post, hook, line, and sinker. That’s why he came out swinging as hard as he did—because he genuinely believes we’re engaged, which means he figured you’d already unburdened your soul to me, as one does with the person they’re going to marry. Either that, or he figured you’d tell me soon. Either way, he wanted to protect himself, just in case I was thinking about doing the same thing I did when I found out he'd been cheating on my mother.”
Her tone is apprehensive now. “What’d he say?”
I swallow hard. “He asked if I knew I was engaged to a sex worker.”
“What the fuck?” Marnie shouts.
“He said he’d hired your services a few times about four years ago—which, conveniently, is right before he married Ashley—but he had to stop hiring you when you fell desperately in love with him and demanded to become his actual girlfriend.”
Marnie mutters something indecipherable under her breath. And then, “Please, tell me you know he’s lying his ass off, Max.”
“Of course, I do.”
“So, according to him, I was some kind of Fatal Attraction nut job? An obsessed, scorned sex worker who wouldn’t take no for an answer?”
“That about sums it up. He went so far as to warn me you probably targeted me as revenge against him.”
“Excuse me?”
“He rejected you and pissed you off, so you went after his son to get back at him.”
Marnie lets out a scream of primal rage that makes me flinch and reflexively look around the empty parking garage. There’s nobody near my car and my windows are rolled up. But my phone is transmitting through my car speakers, and that was quite the shriek.
“Motherfucker!” Marnie shouts, rounding out a long string of curse words. “So, I supposedly had a paid fling with him during the time I was massively pregnant with Ripley—or maybe right around the time I gave birth to her?”
“That’s his story.”
“Wow, does your dad have a pregnancy kink? Does he get off on fucking women with huge bellies and swollen ankles who can’t stop craving cheese-covered pickles, because that’s the state I was in when I supposedly banged him for money and then became hopelessly, psychotically obsessed with him.” She scoffs. “Or wait, maybe I took his money for sex during the time I was visiting Ripley in the NICU every fucking day and crying my eyes out with worry and panic? Or maybe it was a bit later, when I found out my mother had stage four cancer and I started taking care of her, while trying to stay strong for my father and also caring for an infant? Wow, I’m one talented sex worker, huh? A woman with an astonishing ability to compartmentalize and multi-task!” She finishes her rant with a loud grunt . . . and then, to my horror, she bursts into tears.
“Fuck. I shouldn’t have told you what he said.”
Marnie sniffles. “Please, tell me you know it’s all lies. There’s not a shred of truth to any of it.”
“Of course, I know that.”
“I swear he pursued me. He was relentless.”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute. Who wouldn’t pursue you? I certainly did. You’re human cocaine.”
Marnie sniffles again. “When I finally said yes to a date, he romanced me like crazy and swept me off my feet. It felt like a fairytale. But even then, the minute I found out he was married, I didn’t hesitate to break it off, and I haven’t seen him or been in contact with him, ever since.”
“I know that, Marnie. He’s a pathological dickhead. Don’t let his lies get to you, okay? He’s not worth your tears.”
“I’m not only crying for myself. I’m crying for you, too. If he truly believes you’re engaged to me, then that means he’s willing to obliterate his own son’s happiness to keep his infidelities from coming to light. What kind of father is willing to break up his own son’s engagement in order to save his own ass?”
“A father named Alexander Vaughn. I found that out the hard way, a long time ago.”
“Oh, Max. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ve known what he is for a long time.”
“But still, having the point emphasized, italicized, and underlined during your conversation today must have been hard.”
“It wasn’t pleasant.”
“My father would throw himself into a volcano to keep me or Ripley from getting a papercut. My mother was the same way. I wish so badly you knew what that kind of love feels like.”