Fixer: A Bad Boy Romance (41 page)

"Good?" Carter asked, watching me.

Mouth full, I just bobbed my head. "Mmm-hmm," I managed to get out.

He reached past me and snagged the pastry from my fingers, taking a bite himself before returning it back to me. "Yeah, that's the stuff," he nodded. "So, how have things been for the last few days?"

I shrugged, feeling a little twinge as I thought about Onyx and his kiss, his touch on my bare skin. "Good - I got a prospective buyer interested in the big statue from Onyx," I said, deciding to stick to the relatively safe topic of work.

"Hey, that's great!" Carter beamed at me, looking genuinely happy for me. "Who is it? Anyone I'd know?"

"Probably - have you heard of a guy named Robert Albrecht?"

I expected that Carter would know the name, of course - there's no way that he, as a real estate agent, wouldn't recognize the name of the guy who owned the largest skyscraper in town - but I didn't expect him to frown suddenly at me. "Wait, Albrecht is buying the sculpture?"

"Well, he hasn't officially said yes, not yet," I demurred. "But I sent him some pictures, and he said that he's interested-"

Carter, however, was shaking his head. "Becca, I hate to say this, but you shouldn't get your hopes up too much here.".

I felt my happy mood starting to slip. "What? Why not?"

He sighed, and did that thing where he slid his hand through his hair, but I didn't let this distract me this time. As cute as he looked, I really, really needed this sale to happen.

"Come on, Carter," I pressed. "Tell me."

"Okay, but don't shoot the messenger, alright?" He took another sip of his coffee, and then set it down. "Albrecht is definitely wealthy enough, and he could probably buy the statue without even needing to check his bank account balance. But there's still a reason why most of the other businesses and places in Davis don't like working with him."

"Oh? What's that reason?"

"He..." Carter sighed again, and I nearly jumped over the desk to shake him until the answer came out. "He tends to waffle on decisions, to make a choice but then immediately back off from it, sometimes even backing out before the ink's dry on the paperwork. He always makes sure to include a clause that lets him get away with this, too, and he's got enough clout to get his way. But I've seen him do it more times than I can count, to the point where most agents won't work with him any longer."

Carter's words made me think of Portia's tale, about how Albrecht ended up bidding on himself at the charity auction because he didn't want to go home with the winning lady after all. From what Carter now said, it seemed like Albrecht pulled stunts like this regularly.

"So what, you think that he won't end up buying this statue after all?" I asked, feeling a sickening pit open up in the bottom of my stomach.

Looking unsure, Carter shrugged. "I don't want to totally crush your optimism," he said, "but I've seen it happen before. Albrecht will walk in somewhere, ask about making a massive purchase, and then ends up backing out at the last minute. Always leaves the merchant crushed, but there's nothing that they can do about it."

I'd felt so good about my future this morning, but now, in just a few sentences, Carter had brought it crashing down around my ears. I knew that it wasn't the man's fault - he was just trying to tell me so that I was informed - but a little part of me still felt like I should blame him, like he was personally responsible for bringing me down.

Carter reached across the counter and patted me on the arm. "But maybe it won't happen this time," he said, although I could hear the false confidence in his voice. "Besides, it's quite the striking statue. I'm sure he can find a place for it, don't you think?"

I nodded, trying to keep myself together, but I felt my breath already starting to come harder, my chest shaking. "Right," I said, just before I burst into tears.

"Shit." In a heartbeat, Carter was over on my side of the desk, his arms around me, trying to comfort me. "There there, Becca. It's going to be okay. This will work out - you'll make the sale, get the money to pay off Barry-"

"No, I won't," I sobbed, hating how quickly my optimistic outlook had deserted me. "This was kind of my last hope, and I don't know what else I'll do!"

Carter kept his arms around me, sinking down into the chair behind the desk. Somehow, I ended up on his lap, my own arms wrapped around his neck, crying into his shoulder. I was probably ruining his shirt with my tears, I thought to myself, but this just prompted another wave of sobs.

"Can you borrow the money from someone?" he asked me, his hand patting me on the back.

My face still pushed into him, I shook my head back and forth in a negative gesture. "I don't know who I could borrow it from. I don't have anything that I could sell or pawn, and the only people who could loan it to me is maybe my parents, but I can't ask them. They've already been so disappointed-"

"Shh, I understand," he murmured softly. "But surely Barry understands that if you don't have it, he's not going to get anything?"

"I don't know what he thinks," I confessed. "I think he's just angry about the marriage failing."

Here, Carter grasped me by the shoulders and leaned me back for a moment so that he could look down at me, confusion in his eyes. "I thought that he was the one who cheated and broke up the marriage?"

"He was," I confirmed, "but in the end, I was the one who left him. I think that's what bothers him so much. That in the end, even though he caused all the problems, I was the one who finally had the courage to walk away."

Carter sighed. "I know a guy like that. He doesn't want anything except to win, no matter how much damage that might cause for everyone else."

I nodded, sniffing loudly as I felt a bubble of snot forming in my left nostril. Perfect. I probably looked completely unattractive right now.

Carter didn't say anything negative about my appearance, however. Instead, he just drew me back into the hug, apparently not caring at all about how the liquids streaming out of various holes in my face were leaving marks on his shirt. "Just let it out," he murmured into my ear as he held me.

His arms did feel really good around me. Even though I knew that I ought to get up, clean myself off, try and get my life back on track and figure out what I'd do as a backup plan, I wanted to just stay here a little longer. With Carter's arms around me, sitting on his warm, solid lap, I felt safer, less threatened by all of the injustices of the world.

"I suppose I should let you get off to work," I finally said, still reluctant to get up and lose the warmth of his arms around my sides, his hands pressed against my back.

"Whenever you're ready," he answered, although his hug loosened so that I could stand up.

Once back up on my feet, I took a deep breath and swept my hair back, swiping one finger under each eye to try and brush away any lingering tears. "Let me go use the bathroom really quick, just to freshen up," I said, worried about how much I might have ruined my appearance. "Can you keep an eye on the gallery's front desk for me?"

Still sitting behind the front desk, Carter lifted one hand up to his forehead in a mock salute. "I shall not waver in my duty."

I smiled at his light little joke, even as a new wave of tears threatened to come bursting out. "Thanks," I said, and beat a retreat back to the bathroom in the back of the gallery before I broke down again.

In the bathroom, I gripped the counter with both hands as I glared at my reflection in the mirror. "You can handle this," I told my reflection. "Albrecht might still buy the statue, and even if he doesn't, you'll find some way to convince Barry that he doesn't need to get the ten thousand dollars from you right now. You can get through this. You are strong. You've made it this far - you're not going to fall apart now, right at the end."

The words sounded good, but I still wished that I could bring myself to fully believe them.

Thankfully, I hadn't bothered putting on much makeup this morning, or else the tears would have made me look like even more of a mess than I appeared. I wiped under my eyes with a bit of toilet paper to blot away some of the runny mascara, brushed my hair back, and splashed a little water on my cheeks to try and reduce some of the redness from the tears. I still didn't look great, but at least I maybe wouldn't appear like I was in the middle of some horrific breakdown.

I could get through this. I squared my shoulders, took one last deep breath, and marched out of the bathroom so that I could let Carter head off to work.

Chapter Twenty-One

*

It wasn't until after Carter had left, still casting glances back over his shoulder as if worried that I'd break back down into more tears the second that he turned his back on me, that I had another idea.

Barry! All of this was Barry's fault, so I needed to go talk to him!

The more that I considered this idea, the more sense it made. Barry was the one that it all came down to, after all - I just had to convince him to give me a bit more time, or let me stretch out my payment over several months. After all, wouldn't he rather have some money over time, instead of none at all if I couldn't pay him? He'd be fair about this, right?

I managed to hold onto this optimism up until I walked into his dental office, across town.

I knew the location well, of course, but something about it seemed a little... off, this time. I remembered the building looking a little fresher than it appeared as I strode inside; some of the plants in the front lobby were now brown and drooping, and the whole place smelled slightly musty, like it hadn't been cleaned in a while.

"I'm sorry, but Dr. Bulger is currently busy-" the receptionist at the front desk tried to say. I knew her, vaguely - Melissa, I was pretty sure. A vapid blonde who could almost be pretty, until she opened her mouth and started spilling out her nonstop litany of complaints.

A sudden thought hit me. Had Barry been fucking her, too? I nearly stopped to ask her, before I thought better of the idea.

Melissa kept on trying to stop me, but I ignored her words. I dimly heard her tone rise in pitch as I breezed right past her without stopping.

I pushed open the door to Barry's office, and caught him sitting at his desk, his mouth open as his hands struggled to wrap around a thick Subway sandwich. "Hi Barry," I said, dropping into the chair across from him.

"Excuse me! You can't just come barging in here!" Barry protested, apparently oblivious to the fact that I had just managed to do that exact thing.

I noticed that the sandwich in his hands was dripping little globs of wet mayonnaise down onto the wrappings spread out beneath it on his desk, and winced a little. I'd really been okay with marrying this man? At some point, I'd convinced myself that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with
this
?

I decided to ignore his whining. "Look, we need to talk about this payment thing," I said, and waited.

These words, of course, prompted a whole new round of stuttering, complaints and excuses pouring out of the man across from me. I just sat there, my arms crossed in front of my chest and watching calmly as little flecks of sandwich flew out of Barry's mouth.

"Are you done?" I finally asked.

He looked angry enough for steam to come hissing out of his ears, but he nodded. "Fine. Go ahead."

"I might not be able to get the money to pay you back, not by the end of the month." There. Say it straight, no beating around the bush. "I've got a big commission on a piece that might sell, but it's not a sure thing."

This time, Barry was the one to cross his arms and glare across his desk at me. He dropped the sandwich back down and it landed with a soft, wet plop in the little puddle that had dripped out of it.

"I'll sue," he stated, sounding a little smug.

Really? "For what?" I asked in exasperation, my temper creeping into my tone. "I don't have any damn money! Even if you sue, there's nothing for you to win! Barry, wouldn't you rather get the money paid back to you in installments than have to go through all of this?"

Barry's expression, if anything, grew even more truculent. "Look, I need that money!" he snapped. "I don't care how you get it, but I need it! No excuses! I'll sue your parents, if I have to! You owe me!"

My mouth dropped open, and I stared at the self-satisfied, smarmy little excuse of a man sitting across from me. This was what all our time together, with me devoting years of my life to this man, added up to in the end? A threat to do whatever it took in order to get one last chunk of cash out of me?

"I owe you?" I was dimly aware of my voice rising, but I couldn't bring it back down, couldn't clamp down on my anger, any more than I could make it start raining outside. "Barry, you cheated on me! You threw away our marriage! Why the hell do you think that I should be the one to pay? I ought to be making you pay, for everything that you put me through!"

I realized that I was up, out of my chair, leaning over the desk and shouting down at Barry. He cowered back, looking a bit like a turtle as he pulled away from me. A petty little part of my mind really wanted to put one of my palms on his dropped sandwich and squeeze it flat, covering his entire desk with a thin layer of the still-dripping sauce from inside the bread.