Page 5 of The Regrettable Mistake

“Jules, you need to make a decision about a doctor if you plan to have me pay for it. If I’m not working, I’m not earning.” It was a refrain I’d used often with her over the past few months of her game playing, but she didn’t seem to grasp the fact that even my finances were finite if my business failed.

She rolled her eyes and waved off my concerns once again. “You know what, Ollie? You need to learn to delegate and then maybe the work would still get done without you having to be there. What’s the point in being the boss if you’re the only one who can get things done?”

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but she wasn’t right either. “Important clients, the ones who bring the money in, prefer to see my face at the meetings, Jules. Something else they prefer is to avoid scandals that might make them look bad. You do realize if someone did see us together, and take our photo, that you might get a little recognition, but I’d be dealing with a scandal that would cost me millions.”

That stopped my ex in her tracks. “What the hell, Ollie?” She screeched at me. “You never said that.”

“I’ve been saying it for months, Jules. You just haven’t been listening because, as usual, you’ve been too wrapped up in yourself to care about shit you think won’t have an impact on you.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve decided that I’ll marry you, and we’ll play happy families for the camera. Then I’ll have the sympathy card to play in the media. My accident, and the amazing reunion story for our family, will elevate us both. It will be super positive press for me and everyone will take notice.”

“Did you forget the part where I am already married, Jules? That will not play out the way you think it will.”

“Sure it will. I’ll just tell everyone that the bitch you married was a homewrecker who broke us apart to begin with.”

“No one broke us apart. You were gone for years before she ever came into the picture.” My blood pressure was about to blow the top on the temper I’d barely managed to keep under wraps. “You will not villainize the woman who our son loves.”

“Whatever. She’s not his mother. He’ll forget about her quickly.”

“He’s eight fucking years old. He forgot about you because last time he saw you he was six months old! He won’t simply forget about the only woman who has raised him and the only parent who has been caring for him since you came back into my life. For fuck’s sake, you don’t even understand the amount of chaos you have caused. You’re single-handedly ruining my marriage, my fucking business, and your son’s only ties to the one person who hasn’t abandoned him.”

“The way I see it – no one forced you to stick your dick in me.” Her penciled in eyebrow rose a fraction as if she had me with that. “Now, unless you want that video to get out, I suggest you lean in and give me a kiss.”

I growled in frustration, but did what she asked because she had me by the short and curlies with that fucking video. “I fucked up when nostalgia took hold. You’re the one who planned the blackmail, though. You do know that is a crime, right?”

“Prove it.”

“Easy enough to do, since two can play the same game. If you don’t think I have some of our conversations recorded, you’re stupid.”

“If you even think of turning me in, I will make damn sure you are ruined and unable to come back from the damage.”

I growled out a sound of frustration. “Pretty sure you’ve already done that. Might as well stop shopping around for a doctor to fix your face. Unless you have another sugar daddy, or some other asshole you can blackmail who can front the bill for it, because I’m done here.”

CHAPTER 3

Steph

“Steph, you here?”

“Kitchen,” I called to my twin as he entered my house without knocking. My brother never invaded my privacy by helping himself into my house, so I worriedly got up and headed to meet him.

“We need to talk. Where is Den?”

“At a play date for the next hour with his best friend, Jacob.”

“Good. Come sit down.”

“What’s going on, Stevie?”

My brother blew out a breath of frustration as he pulled a chair around so that we were facing one another. He then took hold of my hands and locked eyes with me. A worried knot of tension grew along my shoulders as Stevie dropped his head for a minute, allowing his too-long-on-top hair to flop over his face and cover up whatever look he didn’t want me to see.

I pulled one of my hands out of his calloused ones and swept his hair back. “Whatever it is, I need you to tell me. Whatever internal debate you’re having with yourself is only making it worse, Stevie.”

“Sis,” he started and then seemed to think of something else. “Didn’t you say Ollie was in Vancouver on business this week?”

Slowly, my head tipped forward and back as if answering of its own free will while my tongue remained tied and unable to respond. Steve pushed a lock of my unkempt hair behind my ear and his eyes softened with what looked like a mixture of pity and regret.

“What’s going on?” I asked again.

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