The Key West Anthology (31 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Harper

“Why the hell are you so antsy?” Sloan asked as she placed the money in her drawer.

I’d been bouncing around the shop all day with nervous energy and a whole lot of tension. It had been five days since the paternity test, and I was so ready to know the answer. I know Easton was anxious too, because he’d been quiet and edgy all week. In fact, last night we actually got into one of the dumbest arguments I’d ever had in my life. I mean, who argues over which way the towel should be placed on the rack in the bathroom?

A stressed-out, barely-hanging-on-to-his-sanity, ready-to-punch-anything man, that’s who, and right now that was the perfect description of Easton Black.

I left his condo in a huff only to have him chasing me down the driveway with said towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

I tried to understand what he was going through, what he may have been feeling. The waiting game was weighing on him heavily, I could see it.

“Earth to Harper.” Sloan clapped her hands in front of my face and looked at me strangely. “You are never this unfocused. What going on?”

“Just haven’t been able to sleep much the last few days.” I threw out the first excuse I could come up with, and I could instantly see her gearing up to ask more questions.

The chime of the door gave me the break I needed. Saved by the bell, so to speak.

I quickly turned to greet the customer that had entered the salon, only to find my mouth growing instantly dry. My stomach churned with uneasiness, and my legs went weak.

There in the doorway of Allure stood Molly Wilson, Ian’s wife. I forced a smile and acknowledged her. “Hi, what can I do for you?”

She returned my smile, and I watched her eyes scan the salon. “I’ve heard about this place from a few friends. Seems you’ve really done well for yourself.”

I waited as she continued to check everything out before bringing her gaze back to meet mine. “I was hoping I could get a pedicure.”

“Um, yeah,” I stumbled. “Rochelle could fit you in. She’s due back from her break in about five minutes.” I nervously looked down at the schedule. Rochelle did all our pedicures, and I noted that we had an hour before her next appointment.

“Perfect,” she said.

“Here, I can go ahead and get you seated and get things started,” I told her as I directed her toward the back of the salon, where we had three pedicure stations. After leading Molly to the far end of the room, I turned on the water in the foot basin and threw in the solution from Rochelle’s cart.

“If you would like to have a seat, I’ll let Rochelle know I’ve already gotten you prepped,” I assured her as I stepped aside.

The way Molly was watching me only made my stomach flip even more. She was behaving differently from the last time I had met her, and that unnerved me. She nodded as I stepped away and pivoted toward the back. The last thing I wanted was to come off as being on edge, but I was afraid that was unavoidable. I was a wreck on the inside.

I still felt horrible for being the other woman. It made me feel dirty and disgusted with myself. Yeah, yeah, I didn’t know he was married, but damn it, that didn’t stop the uncontrollable revulsion I felt every time I thought about it.

The moment I entered the break room in the back, Rochelle looked at me in curiosity. I must have looked as awful as I felt.

“Why do you look like you’re about to puke?” she asked, putting down the book she had been reading.

“She’s here,” I gasped as I leaned my back against the now-closed door.

“Okay.” She shook her head, laughing lightly. “Who’s here?”

“Molly,” I said as my head fell back and thumped against the door. Very few people at the salon knew about what had happened between Ian and I, and Rochelle was one of them.

“
The
Molly?”

“Yes,” I replied. “And she’s waiting in one of your chairs.”

“Oh goody.” I raised my head just in time to catch her rubbing her hands together in excitement.

“What could possibly be good about this?” I nearly growled as Rochelle bounced around the room.

After she placed her book back in her bag and cleared her empty food containers from the table, she turned to face me. “Don’t freak out, but I think she’s here to feel the place out. Maybe she knows, and this is my chance to get the scoop so I can warn you.”

I felt like the bottom of my stomach fell out. How could she know?

I knew I’d threatened Ian with telling her, but now the mere thought of Molly knowing I had slept with her husband terrified me. “I can’t do this.” I sunk to the floor and pinched the bridge of my nose. When that didn’t relieve the tension in my head, I began to massage my temples.

I was going to puke, there was no doubt about it.

“You can, and you will,” Rochelle said. “You did nothing wrong. He was the piece of shit that played you, that played both of you.” I looked up to find Rochelle grinning like an idea had just popped in her mind. “Maybe the two of you could go all psycho bitch on him and make him regret the moment he dropped his pants. I would so pay to watch that play out.”

Her eyes were literally gleaming with the possibilities. Sometimes she made me question her sanity. I had a feeling that somewhere, somehow, Rochelle had been scorned, and that sorry sucker had paid dearly for it.

***

Two hours later, Molly had gotten a pedicure and manicure, and she now sat in Sloan’s chair as she clipped away her nonexistent dead ends. “Just a trim,” she’d insisted.

The woman had gorgeous hair and it was very well maintained. Something told me a trim was the last thing she truly needed. Maybe because her eyes continued to watch my every move. I felt like I was on display, and I hated every single second of it. Unwanted attention always left a sour feeling in my stomach.

Deciding it was time to distance myself from the uncomfortable atmosphere that had surrounded me since Molly entered the salon, I escaped to my office in the back. I had my head buried in a week worth of shipment receipts when the clicking of heels against the tile floor caught my attention.

A glimpse of something red had my heart rapidly beating in my chest just as Molly stepped through the open doorway of my office. I swallowed past the ache in my throat as I tilted my head to the side. “All finished up?” I asked.

She only offered me a nod as she stepped in farther and began to close the door behind her.

Have you ever had the feeling like your stomach hits your feet in a huge knot and your mind goes empty? That was exactly what I was experiencing in that moment. Not because I was scared of what she may do, but because I knew I wouldn’t stop her.

When she turned to face me, I stood from my chair. “Is there something you needed?”

“I know, Harper,” she said, her expression not giving any indication of her emotional state. I had no idea if in that moment she was in search of something she could use to gouge my eyes out or something to throw at me.

“Excuse me?” I heard the vibration in my voice.

“I know about you and Ian,” she clarified.

My legs grew weak, and I slouched back into the chair behind me. “I didn’t know he was married.” It rushed out of me as I felt the heat rise in my neck. “He never said anything about having a family. It never would have happened if I had known. I swear to you I’m not that kind of person.”

“I know,” she said. “I’ve been asking around about you.”

Her words floored me. I scrunched my face up, looking at her in confusion.

“I caught him, last week, in the act.” She shrugged and sat down in the chair across from me. “That’s an image I will never get out of my head.” She closed her eyes tightly for a few seconds. “I had always known that Laney was a sleaze. But walking in to find her straddling my husband only confirmed that theory.”

I sat there in silence, because let’s be honest, I had no idea what to say.

“There’s a difference between you and Laney,” Molly said. “She knew Ian was married, yet she continued to screw him. But you…you were a victim in his messed-up world just as much as I was.”

“How do you know that?” I asked. “I mean, you barely know me. How could you know that I was a victim?” God, I hated that word.

“I already had a feeling when I came in here today that you weren’t the whore I initially thought you were. I mean, let’s be real here. When a woman finds out her husband is unfaithful, the women he’s cheating with are always whores.” She smiled and shrugged.

I knew exactly what she was saying. I was sure I would have felt the same way, had the roles been reversed.

“Rochelle and Sloan think very highly of you. When they both offered the same story as you just told me that was all the reassurance I needed.” She stood up and I followed suit. “Oh yeah, and the fact that the security cameras caught the whole scene on tape, when you scratched Ian’s car, that helped too.”

My eyes grew wide as I worried I was definitely going to be arrested or be forced to pay for the damages to his precious car. Now that Molly knew, I couldn’t hold telling her over Ian anymore, so what would stop him?

“Don’t worry, my father owns the firm Ian works for, and the tape is safely tucked away. But just so you know, what you did to his car was nothing compared to what I inflicted on his car. It was sort of…” She shrugged and smiled brightly. “Extremely gratifying.”

“I’m sorry, for all it’s worth. I didn’t know he was married, but I still feel the need to tell you how very sorry I am that I had any involvement with him.”

“I don’t expect us to be friends, but I just hope that we both take something important away from this whole thing.” For the first time, I saw a small tinge of heartache in Molly’s face. “In the end we both need to be a better judge of character and take just a little more time to choose who we share our hearts with.”

Easton’s gorgeous eyes flashing in my mind, I nodded. “Take care of yourself, Molly.” I wished her the best, along with her beautiful children. Molly was a class act. She was strong and had way more compassion and empathy than I’d given her credit for. Ian was lucky to have been given the chance with a woman like her; he was just too damn stupid to accept the gifts he had been given.

“You too, Harper,” Molly said before exiting my office.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Easton

I was tired of waiting and was beyond the point of losing patience, teetering on the edge between asshole and full-blown prick. I was continuously snapping at anyone who crossed my path, I couldn’t concentrate, and the littlest things pissed me off.

It’d been six days since I submitted my DNA for a paternity test. Six very long, excruciating days of the torture of not knowing if I was the father of Sarah’s baby.

The tension was thick and unavoidable, and it was starting to interfere with Harper and my relationship. It was all my fault, because she was being pretty fucking amazing about the whole thing, but damn it, my mood swings were surprising even me.

First I picked a fight with her because she hung a towel on the rack with the tag visible. Of all the damn things to get pissy about, I chose that. Which only led to her telling me what a dick I was being and how I could spend the night with my hand instead of her warm body.

Thirty seconds later, I’m chasing her ass down the road in a towel. I’m sure my neighbors just down the street enjoyed the show, because I was groveling with a very pissed-off blonde in broad daylight.

But last night was definitely the lowest of the low. I was, in fact, one of the biggest assholes known to man—at least in Harper’s eyes I had reached that level.

She came straight from the salon to my place. I had just gotten home myself, and the day I had was enough to put me in a shitty mood. I had a buyer for the club in New York, but it fell through at the last minute, and I was now forced once again to deal with a club I was almost ready to give away.

When she knocked on the door, I was already downing my second glass of scotch, and it had not yet calmed my irritation.

Once the door was open, she flew in, rolling out the drama. In true Harper fashion, she was rambling faster than I could keep up with. The only words I heard were,
Ian
,
Molly
, and something about him being given the chance at an amazing life and just throwing it away.

It was the last thing I wanted to talk about, hear about, or fucking think about. When she just kept going and going, I lost my shit, something I am not proud of.

“Enough.” My voice boomed off the walls of my living room, and I slammed my glass down on the bar top. “Ian.” I gritted my teeth at the agitation the mere mention of his name evoked in me. “I don’t give a flying fuck about that dumbass or whatever the hell is going on in his life.”

I turned around to face her, and damn if she wasn’t ready to fire back in an instant—like I should expect anything less from my fireball. She was glaring back at me, probably murdering me seven different ways in her mind.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” She spit right back at me. “I have sat next to you every fucking night for the last five nights. I have listened to you go on and on about Sarah and your long road of fuckups. At times I spent the entire conversation with the ugliest knot in my gut while hearing details I don’t need to hear. But never have I told you to shut up. Never have I once told you that I didn’t want to hear the bullshit, because I want to be here for you.”

I started to say something, but her hand shot out and she pointed directly at me, as if daring me to continue. “Go ahead, Easton, push my fucking buttons just a little more. See what happens.”

That was not the time to get turned on, but fuck if she wasn’t the sexist pissed-off woman.

She jerked her purse up off the chair and narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to turn around and walk out that door. If you even think about following me to grovel or, hell, to even bitch at me, I will drop you. And the chances of you ever being able to have a child after that point will be a goddamned miracle.”

I hung my head in shame as she turned and walked out. That was definitely one of those times I had to let her cool down, because Harper was more pissed off than I had ever seen her before. The idea of not knowing the test results was fucking everything up, and I was allowing it to happen.

***

By the next morning I’d developed a plan to initiate groveling, phase one, but a voice mail changed everything.

“Mr. Black, this is Heather from Dr. Sadler’s office. I’m calling to let you know that we have received the test results regarding the paternity of Ms. Warren’s baby. If you could please return my call at your earliest convenience. Thank you.”

My heart was beating unbelievably fast. I had just stepped out of the florist holding a dozen roses meant for Harper. When I saw I had a voice mail and hit play, everything flew into overdrive.

I rushed toward my car and tossed the roses onto the passenger seat. After taking a few deep breaths, I tapped out the number of the clinic in Miami, my hands shaking with each key I hit. When the phone began to ring, I felt my stomach tighten.

“Thank you for calling Sadler Women’s Health. This is Breanna, how may I help you?”

“Yes,” I croaked. Clearing my throat, I attempted to speak once more. “I’m returning a call to Heather. This is Easton Black, and she has some test results for me.”

“One moment, please.” Breanna placed me on hold, and it was the longest two minutes of my life. The cheery tone playing in my ear made me grind my teeth.

“Hello, this is Heather.” The same voice from the message made my pulse jump.

“Um, yeah,” I rushed forward. “This is Easton Black, you called with results from the paternity test. From Sarah Warren.” I was shaking with the need to know. “Just tell me if the baby is mine.”

“The results have been uploaded to the site for your viewing. Unfortunately without you being in the office, I cannot verbally give you the results,” she stated. “I’m just calling to let you know that you can visit…” She began rambling off some website address. I scrambled around my car for a piece of paper and asked her to repeat it.

“If you visit that site and type in the access code you were given on the day we originally performed the test, you will be redirected to the results.”

I wanted to demand she tell me now, but I knew I would get nowhere. “Thank you,” I said before quickly hanging up.

It took me three attempts to type the website address into my phone. Once again time ticked by slowly as I waited impatiently for the site to load, then frantically scanned the page for the place to put my code, and then entered it in the bar on the right-hand side. Tapping my foot nervously, I took in a deep breath when the results filled the small screen of my phone, and in that moment my heart felt like it could beat out of my chest.