Page 34 of A Vegas Crush Collection #3

quit being so emo

Grant

One week later.

Since our meeting with Max, there’s been no “coming out” for my relationship with Devon, but it’s certainly not a secret anymore. Word is out there making the rounds, I’m pretty sure.

Marielle is the first to succumb to curiosity, though, when I find her lingering at the doorway after delivering the mid-morning coffee.

“Something you need?”

She opens her mouth, then pinches it shut. “No, I…”

“That doesn’t sound like an actual no, so out with it.”

“It’s just that I heard something, and I guess I’d rather know the truth from you than engage the rumor mill.”

“So, ask.”

“You won’t be offended, I hope. I heard that you might have gotten a staff member pregnant here. And it’s certainly not my business, and the person could have been mistaken. I just, well, I thought you’d want to know what people are saying.”

I take a deep breath and count to ten. A useful trick my sister and I had ingrained into us by our always rational, no-nonsense mother, who even managed to keep her cool when she wanted to take someone’s head off. I have a feeling I might need to call on such restraint.

“Here’s the truth, Marielle. I met Devon Pearson before I knew she worked here, when I was in town interviewing for this job.

I was shocked to find out she was employed by VCO, and we tried very hard not to make a thing of it.

However, we really care about each other.

And, yes, she is pregnant. We’ve spoken to Max Terry about it, so it’s no big secret scandal or anything. ”

“Oh,” she breathes. “You know, a lot of different types of men and women have worked here. And things do happen from time to time. I just didn’t see you like that. To be one of those types of people.”

“The type who sleep with the staff you mean?”

She gives me a small, rueful smile. “Yeah, that type.”

“Well, I’m not, but I liked her before I knew we’d be working together. I won’t apologize for it.”

“I’m not asking you to apologize. It’s just, do you think people will think differently of you for this?”

The fuck? I feel my face twist up, and I can’t decide if I’m angry, amused, or annoyed.

Maybe a little of all three? “Marielle, I’m in a relationship with a woman I care about deeply.

I’ve always wanted to be a father, and I’m thrilled that we’re making a family together.

Yes, it’s a little unorthodox how it all unfolded, but plenty of couples work together, and plenty of couples have found their starts here, just like Devon and me. ”

“Well, those were players. Players are known to be…wild. You’re the general manager.”

I let out a huff of a laugh. “Well, if it helps you reconcile the situation, I, too, was once a player. So maybe a little of that wild side remains. Frankly, my personal life is really none of your business, and while I appreciate you talking directly to me about it, this discussion is at an end. I’d like you to just get back to your regular work. ”

She steps toward the door. “I’m sorry, Grant. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just hold you in high regard and it felt odd, hearing this news.”

Honestly, I can’t even bring myself to dignify her with an answer.

It makes me feel strange to be judged by my own assistant, and I spend a solid ten minutes after she leaves my office waging an internal debate about whether I should go and tell her she crossed a line with me and if she’d like to keep her job as my assistant, don’t fucking cross it again.

It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been the subject of salacious office gossip, unfortunately.

When Margot and I ended things, the news spread like wildfire.

Particularly the part where I found her naked with my friend and coworker.

I was mortified, of course, but I was not viewed as the bad guy in that scenario. This time? Well, we shall see.

I do wonder where the news came from, though. I don’t feel that Max would spread rumors around the office. For one, he only comes in for scheduled meetings and team events. Curious, I pop my head out and ask Marielle, “Can I ask the source of the gossip you heard?”

My assistant cringes and looks around as if she’s about to give away a state secret. “Well, I heard it from one of the ticketing guys, who says he heard it from one of the players. Apparently, the player is dating Ms. Pearson’s friend.”

Ah. So that would be Mikhail. Interesting.

“Thank you. You’ve told me all I need to know.”

“For what it’s worth,” Marielle says. “I’m happy for you, if you’re happy.”

“I am happy. But I’d like for you to focus on your job here rather than the latest office gossip.”

“Yes, of course. I’m so sorry I ever mentioned it at all,” Marielle apologizes, quickly realizing she’s poked a sleeping bear with her inquiry.

I manage to make it through the rest of the day without any more drama, thankfully, but I’m in a foul mood as I head home, a mood made darker when my phone rings, Margot’s name on the caller ID.

“What do you need, Margot?” I’m curt, verging on rudeness.

“Wow, frosty reception,” she answers. When I don’t respond, she says, “I hear you’ve already knocked up one of your employees. Boy, that wasn’t super smart, now, was it?”

“It’s literally none of anyone’s or your business,” I nearly hiss. Goddamn, news travels fast. “And don’t be a hypocrite. You got pregnant five minutes after we were through.”

Margot lets out a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Grant, I need to tell you something.”

“Oh boy,” I mutter. “This ought to be good.”

“I never went off the pill when I was with you.”

It hits just where she means it to. I feel like I might vomit.

“What?” is all I can muster in answer, and it hardly comes out at all.

“I didn’t want kids, Grant. But you did.

And you were loud and insistent about it.

So I pretended to be willing to try, and I pretended to be upset when my period came each month.

Because I figured it would be better to think we were trying, to think it couldn’t happen, than to tell you that I just didn’t want children. ”

“Not with me.”

“Not at all,” she says. “I didn’t want them at all. But you wouldn’t listen. You were obsessed with it. So I thought this would be the best. Better than derailing our relationship just because we weren’t on the same page about kids.”

“So you derailed our relationship by sleeping with my friend, instead?” Is this bitch for real right now?

You know, you think you’re over a situation, that it’s in the past and can’t hurt you anymore. And then your ex just totally levels you with some total, manipulative bullshit. My blood absolutely boils.

“It was all about having kids for you,” she argues. “You stopped giving a shit about me, about our relationship.”

“That is not true. I wanted to build on our life together. To build a family.”

“You were out of your damn mind about having kids. Nothing else mattered.” She’s on a rant for some reason, which, thankfully, is not my problem anymore.

“I have apologized. I have told you I was sorry for pushing you, for wanting it so badly. I know I played into the end of what we had. We’ve already done this, Margot.

Why do it again? And why tell me now, that you lied?

That you lied to me and let me think you wanted what I wanted?

Why do this now? Just to hurt me now that I’m happy? ”

“Happy?” Margot scoffs. “Grant, you’ve knocked up an employee, not found your soulmate.”

“How fucking dare you,” I snarl. “You lying, selfish, cheating, cu—bitch.” Stopping just short of using the slur that came to mind first, I make sure to tell her the most important thing, “I can’t believe I ever loved you,” before hanging up on her.

I could throw my phone out the window, I’m so angry.

How could love turn into hate like this?

How could I have loved someone who so clearly didn’t love me back?

She cheated and manipulated me intentionally.

I want nothing more than to go find a gym and throw punches until I can’t feel my arms anymore.

The five-mile run and the hot shower afterward help some, but not nearly enough. I need to see Devon and have a heart-to-heart. Tell her everything that Margot just blindsided me with.

I grab my keys and wallet and start to head out when the doorbell rings. I swing it open, ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off and be on their merry way.

But it’s Devon, the precious mother of my unborn children, looking mouthwateringly gorgeous as always, showing up just when I need her the most.

I pull her inside and into my arms, just holding her and breathing in the scent of her hair, her skin, her warmth.

I tug her toward the couch, where we end up half sitting, half leaning, but I don’t care.

I have her in my arms, and that’s everything in the world that I need right now.

Just the act of having her in my arms will do in the immediate.

She allows it, being the generous and loving person she is, and it’s a long time before I can bear to let her go.

Finally, she breaks the heavy silence draped around us. “You seem like you really needed that hug.”

“You’re not wrong, beautiful. I’m really glad you’re here because I was just about to head over to your place.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“Margot called me.” Tipping my head back, I pinch the bridge of my nose and stare at the ceiling.

“Always fun getting a call from the ex.” I know she’s trying to lighten my mood, which is sweet, but she may not feel that way when I tell her the rest of it.

“Yeah, especially when she says she lied for years. She never went off the pill. She lied about trying. She made me think I was—that I couldn’t—” I pitch forward and slam my fists on the coffee table. “I’m so sorry, Devon. When the condom broke, I didn’t think it was possible to—”

“I know what you thought. And it’s not your fault.”

“If I’d known…”