All of Me (All of Me #1) (10 page)

At least I had the courage to tell her she was right, before she sprung the whole ‘I told you so’ speech on me. Not that she would have said it, given the state I’m currently in.

“You need to eat, Lace. I’m worried about you.”

I look away from her worried eyes, unable to stomach her concern, and out at the city. It’s teeming with life today but I haven’t felt more disconnected from it than I do right now.

With a sigh, I give up, and reply, “Okay. Can we get some Chinese from that place down the street?”

Her face lights up, and I hate that I’ve had her so worried the last few days. Admittedly, I’m getting tired of my own self-pity. I’m not this girl.

“I’ll order, and then go grab it. I think you should have a nice hot bath while I’m out.”

I nod, wanting more than anything to appease her, and reassure that I’m going to be just fine.

She picks up the phone, and then prattles off the order. When she’s done, she runs my bath, and then leaves to collect our food. I feel so pathetic, and so pitiful that I can barely stand to see myself in the mirror. I should be mature enough to acknowledge that I did this to myself. I became distracted by the idea of being with Jason again, and just look at where it got me. Nowhere. Fucking nowhere.

Alright, I’m about done with this self-loathing bullshit. If Jason fucking Tate doesn’t want me, then fine, but I won’t allow that to destroy who I’ve worked so hard to become.

After a refreshing bath, I slip into some comfortable clothes, and get situated on the sofa while I wait for Cassandra.

The doorbell rings, and I frown, wondering who it could possibly be. I ignore the flicker of hope that it could be Jason, and still open the door without checking the peephole. When I see who it is, I wish I had checked.

Gemma Fitzgerald-Tate. Jason’s wife.

“Gemma?” I ask. She’s the last person I ever expected to see.

“Lacy,” she greets coldly, pushing past me. Her black bob is straightened, and hangs just below her ears. Her make-up is flawless, with her dark eye shadow, and ruby red lips. She’s wearing an impeccable Gucci suit with a beige pencil skirt, an emerald tortious shell blouse, and matching jacket. She’s a few inches taller than me, but in her black spiked Louboutin heels, she towers over me.

“Can I help you?” I ask, completely perplexed as to why she’s even here. She’s made it clear on more than one occasion what she thinks of me, and for the most part I can’t blame her. I might not have known they were engaged, but I did essentially sleep with a man who belonged to another woman for well over a month.

But to be fair, Gemma is a horrid woman, and initially I couldn’t understand why Jason was getting married to her in the first place. That was until I stumbled across some information regarding the impending merger between Tate Enterprises and Fitzgerald International. Once news of their engagement broke, my ‘affair’ with Jason also became public news, and I’m almost certain it was Gemma who sold the story.

“I’m going to cut straight to the chase,” she says, pinning me with her hateful stare. I refuse to cower, and decide to stand taller instead. She doesn’t scare me, but her reason for being here does.

“Feel free,” I reply sarcastically. “You’re taking up my precious time.”

She smirks, her lips tilting into an evil and contemptuous glower. “My husband isn’t leaving me,” she states. “And he never will.”

I know the exact moment she sees me crack. Her eyes darken with a need to kill, like a predator ready to hunt. But before she does that, she takes it upon herself to taunt me first, telling me Jason isn’t coming for me.

I remain still, and silent, unable to form a coherent response in my own mind that will help me make sense of this. When I don’t respond, Gemma continues, “You see, I’m expecting, and I don’t think Jason would leave his own child, even for you. I suggest you cut your ties with him.”

That’s not the final blow though. No, that she delivers when she places a sonogram on my kitchen counter, and then walks out as if she didn’t just ruin my world. Cassandra chooses that exact moment to walk in.

“Who the fuck was that?” she asks, looking between the door and me.

I look up, wondering how I’m supposed to repeat what I was just told without shattering into a million little pieces.

“Jason’s wife,” I whisper, my voice rough. Cassandra drops the food onto the kitchen counter, and catches me just in time to crumple to the floor at my side.

“She’s pregnant,” I tell her. “That’s why he hasn’t called.”

Her eyes change, flitting somewhere between anger and pity. I don’t want her pity though. This is all self-inflicted.

“Oh honey,” she says, rubbing my arms. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, still trying to wrap my head around it. Jason’s going to be a father.

I think back to the amount of times I’d dreamt of being pregnant with his baby, having a little boy with his dark hair and blue eyes. I had a pregnancy scare once, but I never had the courage to tell anyone, and when I found out it was nothing more than a false alarm, I was disappointed. I’d somehow convinced myself that I was the one who was meant to have his baby, not that wretched woman. She doesn’t deserve him.

Looking back now, I feel like an even bigger fool. I believed his lies about loving me, and wanting to try again, all so that he could fuck me one more time before he became a father.

Did he know Gemma was pregnant the night he stayed over?

Oh God.

I fumble to my feet, and barely make it to my bathroom before I’m spewing up the meager contents of my stomach. When the dry heaving stops, I close my eyes, and lean back against the bath, trying hard not to cry.

I feel a wet wash cloth being placed on my forehead, and open my eyes to see Cassandra sitting down next to me.

“You okay?” she asks.

I shake my head no, afraid that if I open my mouth I’ll get sick again.

“I think you should lie down for a while, and then try an eat.”

I simply nod, feeling myself disengage from everything, and switch to auto-pilot.

I don’t want to think right now, and I sure as hell don’t want to feel. In fact, I’d just like to rewind to the night of my birthday party, and decide not to go. Then I wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Help me up,” I say, feeling more tired than I have ever felt. “I’m going to lie down.”

Cassandra helps me to my bed, and then covers me in a quilt. When she leaves my room, I finally allow myself to absorb the information about Gemma’s pregnancy and how it makes me feel.

It sucks. It fucking hurts. But you know what? I will be okay. I shed a few tears, and right before I fall asleep, I make yet another life-changing decision. Coming home was a mistake. A mistake I need to rectify.

***

I wake up to hushed whispers, and then louder voices. It sounds like yelling, but muffled yelling. I decide to change clothes before showing face. I might feel torn on the inside, but I can at least look ‘put-together’ on the outside.

I slip into my black skinny jeans, and a red V-neck shirt with sleeves, followed by black ballet flats. I brush out my hair, and then tie it up in a high ponytail.

I reach my bedroom doors, and stop when I hear Cassandra yell, “You have some nerve! Your wife showed up here three hours ago, and told Lacy she’s pregnant. How could you spend the night with Lacy knowing you had an ‘expecting’ wife waiting for you at home?”

I freeze, surprised that it’s Jason she’s having a go at.

“For fuck sakes, Cassandra, haven’t you just heard anything I’ve just said?”

Jason’s voice almost bellows through the apartment. He’s angry, that much is obvious.

“I have Jason, but I’m still trying to get past the fact that you royally screwed my best friend over
again.
I was willing to give you a shot, but now I see that you’re just another rich, entitled asshole with an itchy dick.”

I walk out just as Jason throws his hands up in defeat. He looks tired, his face covered in dark stubble with dark rings under his eyes. He’s a mess.

“You’re up,” Cassandra says, walking towards me.

“I tried to get him to leave, but apparently he has something to tell you,” she whispers. I try my best to give her a reassuring smile, but even I can feel the lack of sincerity behind it.

“I think your wife beat you to it,” I tell Jason. “I already know about the baby. Gemma was kind enough to give me a copy of her sonogram picture.”

I retrieve the picture, and hand it to him, careful not to make contact. I step back to Cassandra’s side.

Jason looks at the picture, and then looks back up at me. “I had no idea,” he says. “I only found out two days ago, I swear.”

“I believe you,” I reply, trying any tactic that will get him to leave. “Now if that’s all, I’d like you to leave, please. I have to pack.”

In a flash, Jason’s expression morphs from apologetic to something akin to fury, like he remembered why he came here.

“Actually, there is something else,” he steps closer, and then holds up and folded newspaper. “When were you planning on telling me you sold our history to the fucking press?”

I frown, replying, “What? I didn’t. I would nev - ”

“Cut the shit, Lacy. This whole act you have going on is so pathetic. I feel bad for not calling you after our night together, but you have no idea what you have done.”

“What are you talking about?” I snap.

“Here.” Jason smacks the newspaper against my chest. “Read this, and tell me you aren’t the reason it’s made headlines.”

He walks out, slamming the door behind him, and I open the newspaper. My confusion soon turns to understanding and then to horror as the headline becomes clear.

E
XPOSED:
T
HE
T
RUTH
B
EHIND
J
ASON
T
ATE AND
L
ACY
F
ORBES’
S
TEAMY
A
FFAIR,

AND
H
OW
H
IS
P
REGNANT
W
IFE
I
S
D
EALING.

Oh my God,” I gasp. My eyes read the first few lines, and then it all clicks. My book. I’d agreed to publish it, and somehow it was leaked to the press.

My phone starts ringing, and as soon as my mother’s name pops up, I silence it. I turn my phone off, knowing it will be the best way to field any and all calls from my family, and the press. I can’t deal with this again. It’s too much. It won’t be long and the building will be swarming with Paparazzi. That leaves me with one option.

I look up at Cassandra, and say, “Cass, get me out of here, please. Now.”

CHAPTER 14

J
ASON

I bang my hand on my steering wheel, feeling the anger, hurt and betrayal surge through my veins. I had to leave Lacy’s apartment before I did or said something I knew I was going to regret.

The last four days have been nothing but a roller-coaster, a clusterfuck of unfortunate events all wrapped into one shit sandwich.

I’m physically, and mentally exhausted, but emotionally? I feel cut off from reality.

Gemma’ pregnant, and I’m sure it’s not mine. I haven’t had sex with her in over six months. She won’t sign the divorce papers until the baby is born, saying that it will be too dangerous to determine the paternity now. Fuck that. It’s not my child, and I’m going to prove it, one way or another.

Then there’s Lacy. My sweet, sexy Lacy who has sold our story to the press. I’m trying to figure out why she would do that, after the hell she went through the first time the press got wind of our relationship. It doesn’t add up.

She didn’t deny it,
I remind myself. Which is true. She had a look of surprise in her eyes, but more so from the fact that I’d found out. I should’ve seen it coming, right? No. I didn’t think she would ever do this to me, no matter what I did in the past. She doesn’t have a vindictive bone in her body. Unlike Gemma.

My phone rings, and my head of security’s name flashes across the screen.

“Tate,” I answer briskly.

“Mr. Tate, we’ve managed to track the source of the story,” he says.

“And?”

“It wasn’t Miss. Forbes. It was a Miss. Paige Matthews, the Editorial Assistant at HarperCollins. Miss Forbes wrote a book, but had no intention of publishing it as work of non-fiction. Miss. Matthews leaked it to the press shortly after she got the go-ahead from Miss. Forbes to publish it as a fictional novel.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, pulling my unruly hair through my fingers. What the fuck did I just do?

“Make sure you have the story withdrawn, and state that it was maliciously made up by Paige Matthews. Make sure Miss. Forbes’ name is wiped clean, no matter what it takes.”

“Very well, Mr. Tate. I will call you as soon as I have an update.”

I end the call, throwing more curse words around. At the first chance I get, I put my hazards on, and pop a U-turn at the next intersection, ignoring the blaring horns in the process. I’ve made a huge mistake. I can’t seem to stop fucking up.

“Fuck!” I scream, gripping my steering wheel until my knuckles are white.

After several traffic violations, I pull up outside Lacy’s apartment building. Technically it’s mine too but I just couldn’t bring myself to be in the same building. All because I thought she’d betrayed me.

I press the elevator button, tapping my foot anxiously as the cart doors open, and fidget until I arrive at her floor. Her apartment door is open, and I walk in expecting to find her.

Except, she’s nowhere to be found.

“Lacy?” I call out, stepping into the living room. “Lacy?”