Page 13 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
So, this is not a rare night where I’ll have his undivided attention. I hope whatever he has to tell me isn’t about us getting back together, because right now is a perfect example of why we’re better at being friends. While we dated, his distraction with his phone drove me mad.
I understand he worked hard to become the youngestlawyer to make senior partner in the history of his grandfather’s corporate law firm, but how that translates into real life is that the law firmishis life. While we dated, I shared most of our time together with his clients.
The appetizer plates disappear, and small bowls of French onion soup, with a slice of crusty bread and melted cheese on top, take their place. Only then does Spencer put his phone face down on the table.
“Sorry,” he says with an apologetic grin. “I know you hate when I bring work to dinner.”
I shrug. “We aren’t dating anymore.”
He chuckles like he thinks it’s funny I’d say we’re not dating. I pause with the spoon halfway to my mouth. That doesn’t bode well for me. I don’t want to tell him no, but I’ll have to if he asks for another go at a relationship.
Through each course that follows, salad, beef stew, and cheese, he asks me about my job, my roommates, and Nana. I don’t ask about his job because we’ve already spent too much time with it tonight. Instead, I ask about his plans for Christmas.
“I’ll be in Maine with my aunts, uncles, and cousins on my dad’s side.”
So much family. A tinge of jealousy pings my heart, just as it did earlier when Owen spoke about his mom and brother. Nana is all the family I have left.
“When do you leave?”
He studies my face as he says, “Tomorrow morning.”
Speaking of family, now is the time to discuss my situation. If I put it off much longer, I might not get a chance before he has to rush off.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about.” I push away the cheese plate and sit up straighter.
He nods and takes a sip of his wine. “I need to talk to you about something, too. Ladies first.”
The waiter takes away our dishes, giving me a few moments to collect my thoughts. Dessert arrives. A little pot of crème brûlée for Spencer and chocolate cake for me. Spencer is observant and thoughtful to order me cake, my preferred dessert, and not crème brûlée, which reminds me of slime. He has a remarkable memory.
The cake smells amazing, but I don’t let myself get distracted. I force myself to look at Spencer even though I’d rather study the tablecloth, and do something I promised myself I would never do: beg.
“Nana needs more care than she’s getting. Her dementia is growing worse, and it’s time to move her into the memory care unit.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “She needs somewhere that is more secure and where the staff understands dementia better.”
Spencer leans across the small table and lays his hand on my arm. It’s a warm weight that makes me feel less alone. Kind of like when Owen put his hand on my shoulder earlier tonight.
“I’m sorry, Layla. I understand how hard this must be for you.”
I nod, acknowledging his sympathy. When he listens, he knows how to listen.
I take a breath to calm my racing heart. It doesn’t seem to help. This next part is humiliating. I ignore the way my face heats and push forward.
“We’ve already gone through our savings. I don’t have themoney I need to pay for Nana’s care. Will you give me a loan?” I rush on, not giving him a chance to respond before I finish. “I promise to pay you back with interest, but it will take time. If you write up a contract, I’ll sign it.”
I can’t even begin to pay him back until after Nana passes. The thought makes my throat tight.
He crosses his arms, his friendliness melting into business. “I can have a contract drawn up after Christmas. No interest. I’d like to help Ellen. I know how much you love her.” He pauses. “Or I have a better offer.” He studies me for a few drawn-out seconds where I think my heart will beat up my throat and choke me. “We help each other, and you never have to pay me back.”
My stomach rolls. I’d never have to pay him back? It feels like a dream, but what does he expect me to do in exchange for a check with as many zeroes as I’ll need? I lean back in my seat, leery. “What can I possibly give you in return?”
“Do you remember my grandfather died in April?”
“Yes.”
“He left everything to Grandmother.” He huffs out an angry breath. “She’s never in her life managed money until now, and I don’t know what financial advisor she’s hired, but he’s a crook. That’s the only way I can explain her ridiculous behavior.”
I’m unfamiliar with this side of Spencer. He’s usually calm, almost to a fault. Now he runs his hand through his hair with a furious sweep.
“Spencer, I’m sorry for whatever she’s done, but I don’t understand how I can help you.”
