Page 85 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
“If I told Layla I have millions of dollars and she picked me, I don’t want to wonder if she did because of my money. How is that a bad thing?”
“It’s not, but do you believe Layla only likes you for your money? From everything you’ve told us, it seems to me she shares your feelings. Do you doubt that?”
I think back on our week and how happy she was when we were together. The beach, the tree farm, dinner on Christmas Eve. We’ve shared charged moments where I knew she wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss her. The attraction is not all on my end. Her belief that I don’t have money hasn’t influenced how she’s acted around me. She’s never tried to convince me to accept my inheritance.
It’s clear she isn’t obsessed with wealth. Her engagement ring is huge, but she didn’t expect Spencer to get her diamond earrings to match. She gave everyone knitted gifts quietly. Money doesn’t seem to be a big draw for her, unless it comes to caring for her grandma.
“No,” I say. “If I told her how much I have in my bank account, it wouldn’t change her feelings for me.”
“How muchdoyou have in your bank account?” Brady asks.
Susan and I ignore him.
“Tell Layla everything,” Susan says. “Don’t let her continue to believe she’d weigh you down with her problems. Show her you can take them on.”
“Yeah,” Brady says. “Stop being a snob about money.”
It is becoming clear that Iama snob about money. What I have sits in my investment portfolio making more money, but it doesn’t do anyone any good. What it does is make me feel superior to the rest of my extended family because I don’t flaunt it like they do.
Grandmother is doing good with her wealth; I want to do the same with mine. Specifically, in Layla’s life. Not only to help with her grandma, but to save her from a loveless marriage. She’s rejected my offer to help before, but when she knows about Boudron, it might be enough to change her mind.
I will also be one hundred percent transparent with my feelings. She should know it isn’t just a date I want, but all her years from this day onward.
First, I have to find her.
Chapter Twenty-One
LAYLA
Tori’s room is a mess.Clothes, toys, and toiletries cover every available surface, even the little trundle bed where she wants to lay sleeping Sadie.
I move the clothes and stuffed animals from the surface and pull back the covers. Hidden under the blankets are the wooden animal ornaments. I scoop them into my hands and lay them on the floor next to the pillow.
Tori lays her daughter on the bed and removes her designer party dress before tucking her beneath the comforter.
“Fingers crossed she stays asleep,” Tori says under her breath.
Sadie groans as she stretches her arms over her head. Our eyes widen as we wait for what comes next. She rolls over with eyes still closed. We tip-toe from the room.
Once in the hallway, Tori sags against the door. Fatigue seems to weigh down her every limb, but she laughs. “That girl drives me crazy, but sometimes I can’t handle how much I love her. It’s a physical ache. I want to give her everything, but I can’t give her what she wants the most: a dad who sticks around.”
Her melancholy descends as swiftly as the laughter did. I wonder how much sleep she’s had since she arrived.
Music and voices carry up the stairs for those who have yet to leave, even though it’s past seven. It’s been a fun, exhausting day. My favorite part was meeting the Zimmermans, the family who made me the delicious Christmas Eve dinner. I found out Owen paid them three hundred dollars for the food, even though they offered to make the meal for just the cost of ingredients.Three hundred dollars.I’m still in shock.
“Come on,” I say, taking Tori by the arm and leading her to my room. “Let’s take a break. I’m partied out.”
Once there, we collapse on my couch and put our feet up on the coffee table. Instead of talking, we close our eyes and are half asleep when Tori’s phone rings.
She pulls it from the hidden pocket in her maxi skirt. “Ugh. It’s the ex, probably wanting to rub it into my face that he’s with his new girlfriend.”
She throws her phone across the room, where it smacks against the wall. It doesn’t seem to concern her she might have damaged it.
“I’m sorry he’s making you miserable.”
She scowls. “I miss him, but I hate him. I hate how small he wants me to feel and how little he cares about Sadie.” Shescrunches her face. “Looking back, my motivation for marrying was because I hated practicing law. I wanted out of my job, and the only escape I saw was marriage and having a baby.”
I wanted out of my job and the only escape I saw was marriage.Her words hit like a hammer to my skull. I want out of my financial predicament, and the only escape I see is marriage. That hits close, and my heart hiccups in my chest.
