Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I want to cry, not knowing which is better, the size extra small sweatpants and the t-shirt that says I got hitched in Vegas or the disgusting dress in the bathroom trash.
"And it just keeps getting worse," I mutter when I find a sports bra and the tiniest pair of panties I've ever seen still left in the bag.
The bra I don't feel like I can go without, but those nothing-but-a-string panties go right into the trash with that damn dress.
I do my best to hold my head up high as I leave the room, despite feeling like an uncoordinated sloth when I finally gather the courage to open the door. I'll never be a fashionista, but I know better than being a grown-ass woman wearing a pink-and-purple tie-dyed shirt and turquoise sweatpants.
"Thank you for the clothing," I say, with as much snark as I can manage, noting how his eyes drop below my waist, no doubt picturing me in those tiny underwear.
"Glad it all fits," he says, as if he can't see how short the sweats are on my already short legs. I swear he purchased them from the toddler department. I feel like a stuffed sausage.
"What happens next?" I ask, hoping the man has a plan.
I told him everything I knew last night, and, of course, he didn't seem very impressed to find out the entire story only lasted a couple of sentences. I commended him for not calling me stupid although I was certain I could see the thought in his eyes.
He shrugs. "I don't know. It's not like I can call my teammates and tell them I fucked up and married the first woman I met after moving to Vegas."
I don't know why the fucked-up part of that statement stings so much.
It shouldn't bother me. Neither of us wants to be in this situation, and I'm the one responsible for putting us both here. As angry as I am that he showed up, I thought through all of it last night. I don't know that I could've lasted in a place like that. I don't do well under the judgment of others. It's why I wanted out of the small town I moved away from in Texas.
Chapter 13
Heathen
I don't know if leaving her alone in the hotel room was the right thing to do, but I couldn't think of any other recourse.
If I'm going to face the firing line, I'd rather do that alone, at least to try and maintain some dignity.
I pull in a deep frustrated breath when my phone rings, a familiar area code attached to the number that's showing on the display screen.
"Hello," I say, after hitting the hands-free button on the steering wheel, knowing if I avoid the call it will only make things worse.
"What janitorial service costs fifteen thousand dollars?" the voice on the other line asks rather than starting the conversation the normal way with a hello or even taking the time to ask if the person answering is the person they intended to reach.
"A very expensive one," I tell the person, not recognizing their voice.
I never expect my mother or father to be the one to call about one of these types of situations, so I don't know why this stranger's voice sort of hurts my feelings.
"Actually, I bought a wife," I tell the man, waiting to see if it's enough for him to put my father on the phone, but I'm met with a long beat of silence. "Isn't that what he wanted? For me to settle down and have a family? Wasn't that the stipulation for releasing my trust fund?"
The silence continues, and I know I'm just beating a dead horse. I want nothing from my family. I've forged my own life without them, and the last thing I need is the money they've been trying to hold over my head. They say they've disowned me, but I know there has to be some hope somewhere, because that credit card charge went through today without a hitch.
"Mr. Burke Sr. would like to make sure that the balance is paid before it accrues interest."
"Of course," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose in annoyance at the red light. "Anything else?"
"That's all. Have a lovely day, Mr. Burke."
The call ends before I can utter another word.
I knew using that gold card was going to trigger something in my father's campaign, but the card didn't have my real name on it. It's registered to one of my family's many businesses, something someone would require very extensive computer skills to link back to me. I had planned to lie about who I was, but then was faced with the government-issued ID requirement for the marriage license, and that ruined everything. Edmon held my card through the multiple lineups of women, and there was no point in asking him to use a different one.