Stone Cold Fox, page 8
“Hey. Bea. Are you okay?” Syl asked, alluding to knowing more than she let on, so instead of barking at her about professionalism in an assistant role, I maintained a soft approach to peel the layers even further.
“I’m fine. It’s just a lunch.”
“Would you maybe want to go to lunch with me?”
What a bizarre creature Syl was. An executive assistant asking her boss’s girlfriend to socialize? No, I didn’t want to go to lunch with her, but I had a feeling she was privy to the conversation behind closed doors. I was practically salivating over whatever intel she possessed. She could be an asset to me. So the two of us popped into a nearby Pret for a salad and a sandwich. I got the salad, obviously.
Syl leaned in toward me at our table; her tone was hushed and exuberant. She really couldn’t wait to spill and I loved that energy from her. This is how we would bond, but it was good to know she wasn’t someone who could keep a secret.
“I don’t even know if I should be telling you this, but I feel like I owe you one after that whole thing with your office,” Syl said.
Yes, accurate.
“Okay, now you have to tell me,” I urged, perhaps too eagerly. She sat back in her chair a bit, enjoying the upper hand.
“I’m pretty sure they’re discussing you.” Syl smiled at me with the straw of her Diet Coke between her teeth.
“Oh? What about me?”
“Well, I couldn’t hear everything, but Collin was basically defending you to his father. He said that you’re like no woman he’s ever met before and that you’re ambitious and beautiful and not like the other ding-dongs they wanted him to settle down with.”
“He said ding-dongs?”
“He did. It was cute.”
“Right.” I shrugged, not really agreeing with her. So I was with a man who used the word ding-dongs in regular conversation? Well, there were worse fates.
“What did Mr. Case say?” I asked Syl. “He barely said two words to me when we finally met yesterday. He didn’t even give me a chance. Neither did his wife.”
“All I heard was something about growing up, being a man and not screwing around with the people who work for them.”
My mouth fell open. My future father-in-law had placed me in the same bucket as the help, not beguiled at all by my southern belle backstory. Unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. I just had to keep working Collin. That was the move, but was it enough to go against his family’s wishes when it came to marriage? Was I enough?
“But Collin defended me?”
“Oh, absolutely. He’s obsessed with you, Bea. Honestly. I’m with him all the time. I would know.”
“This is wretched,” I lamented, laying it on thick, wanting to keep the lines of communication open between us moving forward. Syl was a gold mine. “I don’t want Collin’s family to dislike me, but it’s like they’ve already made up their minds.”
“I wouldn’t worry about them,” Syl said, smiling again, a piece of tomato lingering in the corner of her lips. She licked it away mischievously. “You can work on the family later. Terrible in-laws are a tale as old as time. You have Collin by the balls and that’s what really matters. You’ll see.”
I laughed out loud. Syl was a character. “See what?”
“I think I’ve said too much.”
I playfully pushed her from across the table. “You can’t do that!”
“I’m sorry! I’m trying to put myself in your position. You might not wanna know.”
“Of course I want to know. Wouldn’t it drive you absolutely mad if I told you I had a secret and then declined to share it with you, all in the same breath? That’s monstrous, Syl. You tell me right now.”
Was it possible the two of us were having fun together? I never had any fun with women, except for the unhealthy kind wherein we engaged in duels of the mind. No, Syl was no Gale. Syl was putting me at ease. Entertaining me. A new sensation across the board.
“I know, I know. I just think I might be crossing a line here. I’m sorry. Really.” Syl started giggling now. “I so want to tell you, though!”
“If you ever want to get lunch with me again, you better start talking,” I said, dangling a carrot of perceived friendship. I could tell she liked me as well.
“Okay. If you’re sure. And you promise you won’t be mad?”
“I can’t promise that if I don’t know what it is.”
“At me, I mean. Promise you won’t be mad at me?”
An interesting development. Syl was acting as if we could become true friends when I would always clearly have the upper hand as her superior’s significant other. Regardless, I leaned into the false intimacy. It would only benefit me.
Sure, Syl. I’ll be your friend.
“Mad at you? Does it have anything to do with you?”
She paused for a second, sincerely wondering if it did. “No. Not really,” she decided.
“All right then. Out with it!”
“Okay.” She inhaled dramatically for effect, speaking slowly. “Earlier today. As in this morning. Collin asked me. To make a list of jewelers. That specialize in engagement rings. In the seven-fucking-figure range.”
“Shut up!” My eyes went wide with the win in sight. An engagement ring already? I thought I had at least three more obligatory months lest we seemed too hasty to the adoring public. Incredible. And in the face of parental rejection? My allure truly knew no bounds. I wanted to openly rejoice with Syl further, but my mind immediately went back to her, wondering if she’d be proud of me.
Of what I became. Of where I went. Of whom I’d aligned myself with.
And then I chastised myself for caring at all about what that woman would think of my life after her. It wasn’t for her at all. This was all mine.
“So what did your research entail?” I asked Syl, wanting to get to the good stuff.
“I mean, it’s not exactly research, is it? We’re talking about Cartier. Tiffany. Harry Winston. Van Cleef. The staples,” she said, as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world, which surprised me. What would someone like Syl know about classic diamond houses? “But did you want something more eclectic?” she continued. “I could easily drop a hint and send him some specific designers, they’d likely just have to source a bigger diamond—”
No, no, I thought. Eclectic wouldn’t do and it had nothing to do with my taste. I wanted the kind of undeniably and quintessentially classic engagement ring that would hold some value should something go awry one day. Always advisable to have a Plan B. One of Mother’s better mottos. Her gifted jewels often came in handy when we were in a bind.
“No, you were on the right track with the others. More my speed. Are any family heirlooms in contention?” I asked her.
“I think that might be part of the issue between Mr. Case and Collin,” Syl admitted.
“Right. You know, I really don’t think it’s his father. It’s his mother.” Saying that word aloud always made me shiver.
“You know what, Bea? Who fucking cares? A new ring is way better anyway. You don’t want anyone’s bad juju, especially in a crazy family like that. Who knows what kind of marriage Grandma and Grandpa Case had?” Syl was trying to butter me up. And the answer was “a rich one,” but I agreed with her. Gimme something fresh. “Gum?” she offered, popping a little white cube of Trident into her mouth. “Sugar free, obvs.” I took one from her and let her continue.
“He’s standing up for you, to his family, and I think that says a lot about a man,” Syl added. I nodded at her for the sake of appearances, but I disagreed. I thought it said more about me and my effect on Collin, someone who had probably never taken a stand against his parents about anything before in his life. I had truly enchanted him.
“They’re being ridiculous,” Syl went on. “You’re an accomplished woman in your own right and they’re acting as if that’s a bad thing. Please. It’s just hard to be girls like us sometimes.” That declaration startled me. Syl thought we were similar? Really? Maybe I wasn’t a full-fledged member of the Case family just yet, but I could have been associated with the nouveau riche or at least a wealthy generation or two before my own. She didn’t know anything about me, but as if reading my mind, she added, “Collin told me about your parents’ passing. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh. He did. Well, thank you,” I said, because it’s what you say, no matter how odd.
“I don’t really have my parents either,” Syl offered to commiserate with me. “It’s hard.” I went silent. I assumed she was hoping I would pry further into her life, but I didn’t see the point. I could handle awkward silence no problem, but most people couldn’t. Predictably, Syl changed the subject after a few more seconds. “I should get back to the office, but I’ll keep you posted on ring things, if you want me to?”
“Only if it seems like Collin is getting derailed with the proposal. If he’s staying the course with everything you already told me, I don’t need any further updates. It might be nice to be surprised about the ring itself and how he’ll decide to pop the question.”
“Totally agree,” she said, back to her bubbly self. “So you’re not upset that I told you?”
“Not at all.” I smiled, touching her on the shoulder. It was definitely wise to keep her close, especially if I could keep her flapping those fangs about the things I cared about. “Thank you, Syl. I really enjoyed our lunch. I’m glad you asked me.”
“Me, too,” she said, spitting out her gum into a napkin. “So we can do it again sometime?”
“Sure. I’d like that,” I said, and I meant it. She held out another napkin for my gum and gathered all of our trash to toss, just to be nice apparently. As we walked out of the Pret, another question occurred to me. “How often would you say Gale calls Collin at the office?”
“Gale?” Syl looked perplexed.
“Gale Wallace-Leicester. She’s a close friend of Collin’s?”
“Oh, right,” she said, still a bit flustered. “I recognize her name, but we haven’t really spoken too much. I’d say she’s called a few times since I started. Nothing excessive.”
“All right. If that changes, I’d be curious to know. That is, if you were comfortable sharing. No pressure, you’ve already given me so much.”
“Sure,” Syl said. “But she rarely calls as it is.”
“Okay. Then I’ll see you later.”
Syl went in for a hug like I knew she would, but this time I accepted it. Passersby probably thought we were genuine girlfriends. A thing like that. But it didn’t mean I could trust her. It probably meant I needed my guard up around her even more. A delicate dance. Lure her in, without revealing too much of myself. Story of my life.
I practically floated back to the agency, high on the engagement news that fully allowed me to plot my ultimate revenge on Len and company. It wasn’t quite the moment to pull the trigger yet, but all in due time. Collin’s proposal was officially pending, bypassing the all-important step of moving in together, which would surely follow, if not precede. Frankly, it couldn’t come soon enough. I needed to get out of Morris’s place as soon as possible. I could tell he was tiring of my lingering presence without any benefit to him. I knew Morris would never throw me out on the streets, he wasn’t that kind of man, but I also didn’t want to be badgered about earning my keep through anything unsavory in the sheets. He was that type of man, so time was of the essence.
Collin and I had plans to go to the symphony that evening, something I found dull in practice but refined in theory so I had to go along with it and pretend I enjoyed it. An excuse for a new frock was welcome, but more so the adoration of anyone we passed throughout the course of the night. We were a very attractive couple, though I was pulling most of the weight in that regard, no surprise there.
Before the music began and idle chatter swept through the concert hall, Collin revealed to me that the Cases’ Newport home would be ready for us come Memorial Day weekend. Excellent news. He had taken care of business. Collin gave my left hand a squeeze, an exhilarating tell, and I thought about texting Syl to inquire about any ring updates during the intermission, but I stopped myself because I deserved the surprise. Why not? I wanted to start reveling in momentous occasions, instead of constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the letdown.
Once I was married to Collin, I would never be let down again.
CHAPTER
6
NEWPORT, RHODE ISLAND, reeked of old money, which, while obnoxious, I honestly preferred because I knew what to expect. Everyone waxed on about the Hamptons, which provided lovely ambience, minus the rampant banter between finance bros or star-fucking bimbos stalking celebrities. It was all so showy. The concentration of rich idiots in the Hamptons was much higher, especially of the new money variety, whereas Newport had a distinctly more laid-back vibe, since the crowd had little to prove in the wealth department. A welcome respite for both Collin and myself. It could be exhausting performing for someone all the time, and while I was always in a mild performance mode to keep Collin secure, I felt more relaxed than I had ever been with him when we chucked our bags into the master bedroom. So much so that I was the one to initiate a daytime romp simply because I felt like it.
I wasn’t naive about my feelings for Collin. I knew I didn’t love him in the way a normal person loved their partner. The Hallmark definition was simply not a priority for me because it didn’t seem to result in anything worthwhile, much less tangible. Feelings were fleeting and fickle, with no guarantees. Belongings, assets and money had staying power if you played your cards right. I would have put up with far worse. Any affection for Collin was due to the affection I had for the life he could provide, but he was a genuinely sweet man, buck teeth and lack of bravado and all, so I counted myself lucky in that regard. That’s not to say Collin wasn’t without his faults. He could be secretive and quiet. He was not a gregarious man, similar to his father in that respect. I wasn’t always exactly sure what Collin was thinking, but he likely felt the same way about me. While his every thought may have been unknown to me, his behavior was almost always predictable, and that was what really mattered. I believed he would always choose me and that was reason enough to stay with him forever if he asked.
When he asked.
“Did you want to go out or stay in for dinner, babe?”
“Let’s go out!” I cheered at Collin, eager to frolic about town in my glory. If he was gearing up to propose as expected, I decided I wouldn’t mind a public display as long as it was tasteful, resulting in polite and genuine applause from onlookers along with a bottle of the restaurant’s finest champagne sent to the table.
“Really? I thought we might stay in,” Collin said, instantly annoying me. If he didn’t want my opinion, why bother asking? “I thought it might be nice for our first night to settle into the house, dine alfresco on the terrace, get a fire going, put some cozies on.” Oh God. I cringed. When Collin said things like cozies it made me want to slap a diaper on him and send him on his way to his mother. His vernacular left much to be desired, but like I said, he wasn’t perfect.
“All right, whatever you want is fine with me,” I told him, before making tracks for the wine cellar.
“Well, I can put in requests? What sounds good?”
“Lobster,” I replied, because it was what you ate in Newport and it was rich, even though I couldn’t think of a more overrated star of seafood. In my estimation, lobster had absolutely no flavor unless it was slathered in butter of all things. Horrendous.
“Great idea. Gale loves lobster, too.”
“I beg your pardon? Gale is here?”
Christ. Would I get no rest on our little lovers’ getaway? The abject cruelty of it all. I rightfully expected some hard-earned PTO, a weekend of my own wherein I wouldn’t have to be so “on,” but I reminded myself there would be no time to relax until Collin and I were married. Don’t get comfortable, Bea. No sick days. No weekends. No summer fucking Fridays.
“Bea, come on, I told you on the way up that we’re going to host Gale and Luke, too.”
He most certainly had not. This was one of his well-trodden tricks. Collin would frequently drop unpleasant social plans on me, swear hand-to-God he’d told me about them previously, and then it would ultimately be my fault that I was in a sour mood about it. It was so routine at that point that normally I just nodded along, but this was beyond offensive considering the person in question. Our special weekend away and I had to spend it in the company of Gale Wallace-Leicester? A regular girlfriend would lay into Collin, huffing and puffing about the wildly inappropriate choice of guest considering the circumstances, derailing the entire weekend, potentially the whole proposal, at least for the moment. But I didn’t want Collin to be cross with me due to an extemporaneous outburst no matter how good it would have felt. I wanted him to feel bad of his own accord. Because of his own poor decision-making. His own idiocy.
“I thought this was our weekend?” I whined, but only slightly, at the pronoun specifically. This was a very valid question, but the desired result would be all in the tone and the delivery.
“It is, babe! It totally is. I’m sorry you’re disappointed,” he said. Hmm. Getting closer. “They’re staying at the house, but we won’t be attached at the hip or anything. I just thought it’d be nice to have dinner together one night to meet Gale’s new boyfriend. They have their own separate plans, too.”
I didn’t say anything. I merely sighed. I wanted more.
“I know,” Collin said, right on cue. “I shouldn’t have agreed when she asked, but she’s my friend. And a friend of the family. She’s always loved our Newport house, more than her parents’, and honestly when we have guests here, it’s like ships passing in the night so I didn’t think it was a big deal. I can call her and say that we’d rather she—”
