Meant for Me (12 page)
So the little skank ended up in the hospital. Oops.
I should feel guilty, but I don’t. Ivy shouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place. It’s like she just wanted to land a guy to support her sorry ass for the rest of her life. Ryan even told me she grew up on welfare for pity’s sake. Just because her drunk mother was too lazy to work for a living doesn’t mean she has the right to sit at home and do nothing. Talk about an unjust sense of entitlement.
Everything about Ivy Thompson just infuriates me.
***
I’ve worked my entire life to get where I am. True, I might have worked my connections, but who hasn’t? My stepdad is a wealthy man. He helped me land this job at the
Gazette
, but it’s not like he’s here burning the midnight oil while I’m kicking back, painting my nails. I devote my entire life to the paper. I’m the first one there in the morning and the last to leave at night. I log sixty to eighty hours a week and that doesn’t even count holidays and weekends. I don’t take any time off when I have menstrual cramps or a headache that won’t quit. No, I’m here all day, every day.
I run board meetings. I approve layouts. I schmooze advertisers. All in the effort of turning a profit and keeping the paper in the black at a time when print is dead and digital thrives. It’s not easy running a successful business in an industry that is undergoing monumental change. People don’t get their news delivered to their doorstep every morning anymore. No, they get it on their phones or when they turn on their tablets. Who wants to get their fingers dirty reading newsprint?
Luckily, the pathetic farmer types around here do. Ah, one of the perks of living in the land that time forgot. I could be in Hollywood assisting my uncle on his next big film project. I could be in Manhattan helping my stepdad manipulate the stock market like it’s his own personal lottery. I could be doing so much more, but I’m not. Instead, I’m stuck in a job I’m vastly overqualified for in a town where a tractor pull is considered a cultural event. So why do I stay if I could have a much more glamorous and exciting life?
Two words. Eric Young.
From the moment I set eyes on him at that Chamber of Commerce meeting, I knew he was the one for me. We were both up-and-comers at the time. He was getting ready to open the garden center and I was just appointed editor of the
Independent Gazette
. We were the bright young stars in the community, both looking to make a splash.
I’m usually not attracted to guys like Eric, but there was just something about him. He was poised yet thoughtful, articulate yet respectful. The way he presented his business plan to the loan committee made me sit up and take notice. I was bored out of my mind listening to a roomful of old men ramble on about the price of milk and soaring interest rates, but when Eric got behind the podium, he had my full attention.
I think he was surprised to see me there since the panel was dominated by lifelong business owners and I was fresh out of Harvard. Here I was, two weeks on the job, and I had a hand in deciding his fate. It was a heady feeling, knowing I’d have a role in determining his future. I seemed to make him nervous as I tossed my hair over my shoulder, daring him to take his eyes off me.
His presentation was impressive. He’d done his homework and knew what he was talking about, backing up his projected figures with market research and economic trends. He was a farm boy, sure, but he was a hell of a lot more than that. He was intelligent, well-spoken, persuasive—finally a man who was my equal in every respect. He didn’t have the advantages I grew up with, but he more than made up for his lack of wealth with his work ethic and charm. The way he presented himself screamed success. He was destined for great things, and I was determined to push him as far as he could go. The sky was the limit—with me by his side, of course.
When I approached him after the meeting to congratulate him on a job well done, he was polite yet firm as he turned me down. He was flattered, but he already had a girlfriend. I could tell he was conflicted. I had a deciding vote in approving his loan request. He was taking a huge risk, admitting that he wasn’t interested in me. I had the power to ruin him—or at least stop his business from getting off the ground.
At first, I was furious, hell-bent on getting even. But the more I asked around about him, the more I came to learn about him and Cassidy and how they grew up as childhood sweethearts. Their relationship wasn’t some casual fling. It spoke of a type of loyalty I couldn’t help but admire. Not many guys in their twenties know what they want, and his devotion to her spoke volumes. Here was a guy who was in it for the long haul. He was goal-oriented and romantic.
My only challenge was to get him to transfer that level of fidelity to me. Together we could conquer the world. With my money and influence coupled with his charisma and know-how, we’d make one hell of a couple. We’d blow this little town right out of the water. We could go anywhere. Do anything. Nothing could stop us. Nothing would stand in our way.
Except a baby.
At first, I was willing to wait it out. Yeah, Eric was building their dream house. He’d even proposed to Cassidy, but I knew better. I had my spies where I needed them. Cassidy wasn’t being so discreet with her little liaisons. She wasn’t covering her tracks. She was leaving a trail that was easy to trace. It’s like she wanted to get caught. I had her right where I wanted her.
And then Eric announced that she was pregnant and my bubble burst. He would never leave her at that point, no matter what she did to him. He would do everything he could to ensure his child grew up being raised by both a mother and a father. They were inexplicably bound, this fetus tethering them together through all eternity. Eric was a good Christian boy, raised in the church. He would marry the mother of his child, end of discussion.
Even if I’d told him that she was cheating on him and provided him with irrefutable proof, he’d still have walked her down the aisle. It’s just the kind of guy he is—dutiful to a fault. Then Cassidy got sick and the media turned her into a national martyr. It sickened me how everyone felt so sorry for her when Eric was the one pushed to the sidelines, the emphasis always on her. He was faithfully fulfilling his role, holding her hand in front of the cameras. He had no clue what was going on behind his back, but I did.
I bided my time. She had stage four breast cancer. The likelihood of her carrying that child to term was slim to none. If she somehow did manage to give birth, I would have had to seriously consider whether or not I wanted to raise her bastard child as my own. No matter how much I wanted Eric, I didn’t think I could stomach it. He would always love that child more than me because it was a part of Cassidy, and she was already on her way to sainthood. There was no getting in the way of that. It was either the child or me. If it had survived, I would have walked away.
When Cassidy passed away, taking the baby with her, I secretly rejoiced. It sounds horrible but she got what was coming to her. Eric was too good a man to be saddled with someone like her. She’d have kept him trapped in this backward community for the rest of his life. He would have been staring at a dead end by marrying her. She had no valuable connections. She couldn’t have advanced his career. But I could have gotten him out of this hellhole of a town.
I didn’t want to come on too strong after Cassidy died. I mean, the man was still in mourning. But every chance I had, I’d stop over the garden center or call him on the phone, letting him know I was still interested in him. He was lonely. I could tell, and I preyed on that. He was a man. It wouldn’t be long until he sought out some female companionship, and I was ready and willing to oblige. My number would be the first one he’d call, guaranteed.
But I waited and waited and nothing happened. My uncle kept pestering me to leave the
Gazette
and come out to L.A. to help him with his latest project. It was the holiday season and I was feeling low. I never like to admit defeat, but I was ready to give up. I could’ve told Eric about Cassidy, but why bother? I thought he’d come running the minute she was in the ground, but he didn’t. Maybe it was time for me to move on and forget all about him. But I gave it one last effort and called his number.
And lo and behold, he accepted my invitation for a nightcap. Sure, I labeled it a business meeting, but who talks profit margins on a Friday night? He knew what I was after. I didn’t have to spell it out for him. The look he gave me when I opened the door, I’ll never forget. It was hungry, desirous. Lust was radiating off of him. He’d never allowed himself to look at me that way before, but now his barriers were lowered. He was ready for something more.
This was the opportunity I’d been longing for. He was mine. All mine. And boy was I going to have fun with him. I opened a bottle of wine to ease things along, and before I knew it, we were on the couch in my office. I was undressing him. We were almost there. He was going to let me do him without a condom. I did a rapid mental calculation in my head. I was due to ovulate at any time. He could actually get me pregnant if we had sex. I wasn’t on the pill because I wasn’t sleeping with anybody. I hadn’t slept with anyone since college. He needed this. I needed this. My plan was working out beautifully—until I broke a nail.
I should’ve let it go and carried on, but I panicked. What if I really did end up pregnant after this? He was really not the Eric he was before. He wasn’t as driven. He wasn’t as focused. He’d let himself go, barely hanging on to what he had left. No doubt Cassidy’s death was a blow, but I thought he was strong enough to pick himself up and carry on. Now he was more of a wildcard, not so much of a sure bet. He wasn’t the confident, self-assured guy I’d seen in that meeting. Now it looked like he couldn’t even bother to shave. Was this what I really wanted in my life—a train wreck of a man whose best days were already behind him?
I used my broken nail as an excuse to stop things before they went too far. He needed more time to get his act together. I’d give him a few more months and see if he pulled through. There was no rush. It wasn’t like this town was crawling with available women. Who was he going to date instead—Marla down at the post office? I don’t think so.
We got dressed and said our awkward goodbyes, and I was disappointed when he climbed into his truck half loaded and drove away. I thought he’d at least call a cab. That wasn’t responsible behavior. Did he really care so little about his life that he’d risk driving under the influence on those icy country roads? Was that the kind of effect I had on him? I didn’t want to think about it. I shoved it to the back of my mind to ponder when I was sober.
Months went by and winter turned to spring. I was busy at work. The paper hit its first financial speed bump as the economy continued to sour and more and more businesses closed their doors. It was up to me to somehow find a way to make up the lost ad revenue. I decided to take on more unpaid interns for the summer and slash the payroll as much as I could. I added Ryan to the delivery staff and he asked about bringing Ivy on board. Little did I know that it would be the biggest mistake of my life.
I knew so little about her then. She was my stepbrother’s childhood friend. That about summed up my knowledge of her. I didn’t much care for her after our interview. She didn’t seem like she was taking it seriously, sassing me back and showing up in flip-flops, but I didn’t have the time or the desire to screen any more applicants. She seemed competent, so I pulled the trigger and did Ryan a favor.
I was so distracted at securing the payment for the theater’s ad space that I wasn’t thinking when I sent Ivy to pick up that stupid disk from Eric. It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Of course he was all over her. She was young and full of luscious curves. Guys eat that shit up, especially ones who haven’t gotten laid in two years. And then when she got to play the damsel in distress when her car ran out of gas, of course he came running to her rescue. I couldn’t have set things up more perfectly if I’d tried.
At the time, I didn’t think anything was up. I thought Eric was just being nice. It was her first day on the job. She’d gotten stranded, and he helped her out. I could tell Ivy was trying to play it off when she got back to the office, but I definitely picked up on the hostile vibes she was giving me when I talked about Eric. She didn’t want me anywhere near him, which surprised me because one of my spies told me that they had caught her flirting with Will earlier in the day. My informant managed to drag Will away from Ivy, but she said they were both pretty intense before she’d interrupted them.
It made me wonder if maybe I’d underestimated Ivy. She seemed like she was capable of manipulating the men in her life, using her body to her advantage. Ryan and I weren’t exactly close, so I had no clue how promiscuous she was. I never saw her acting overtly sexy in my presence. Until I found her smack dab in the middle of Eric’s lap, that is. That’s when I knew for sure things had gone too far. I had to put a stop to her antics before Eric’s dick got him in trouble and he did something stupid.
But he was already beyond my influence. Something about her had drawn him in and he wasn’t letting go, not without a fight. I did everything I could to make him see reason, but he didn’t want to hear it. He was determined to have her no matter what I said or did. He tossed me casually aside for a girl barely out of her teens who’d come from nothing and knew even less. We could’ve been so good together, great even. But he didn’t want an equal, a relationship of like minds and similar interests. No, he wanted to bury himself in this small town and fuck the living daylights out of some little tramp. He was giving up by settling for Ivy. She isn’t right for him. She can’t give him what he needs in the long run. But he didn’t seem to care.
And once again, he knocked up another one of his charity case girlfriends. Talk about being fertile. He was virile enough to impregnate the whole town. It’s a good thing I didn’t sleep with him that night or I’d be lugging around a diaper bag instead of a Coach patent-leather clutch. It makes me cringe to think he almost turned me into what I hate—a dim-witted woman, barefoot and pregnant, dependent on her man. That’s something I never want to be.
