Page 90 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
I’m taken aback by his disdain. “Rub what in?”
“Layla chose you and a life of poverty over me. Are you happy?”
Sweet relief floods through my body. I feel faint and prop myself up with an arm on the wall. She broke up with Spencer. But then why didn’t she come find me? Why did she leave?
“When did she break off your engagement?”
He crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. “You expect me to believe you don’t know?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “The last time I spoke with her was on Christmas Day, and she was one hundred percent committed to you.”
He eyes me distrustfully. “Well, something changed her mind. She broke it off last night.”
Whatever the reason, I’m euphoric. I laugh. Spencer glares.
“Spencer, I’m sorry you’re hurt, but I’m glad she broke up with you. She deserves a husband who loves and adores her. You deserve a wife who can expect more from you than apaycheck. Don’t you want someone in your life more important than work? Someone to help you through difficulties and disappointment? A woman who will stick by your side if tomorrow you lost everything?”
My passionate speech does not impress Spencer. He glances down at his wrist to check the time. He’s not wearing a watch. “Is the TED talk finished?”
I tried. “I’m sorry if this hurts you, but I’m going after her. I would give up everything I have if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with her. Can you say the same?”
An expression ripples across Spencer’s face I’ve never seen there before: envy. “I have a lot more to give up than you do, don’t I?”
I’m not sure if my next words are harder for me to say or for him to hear. “Spencer, I co-founded the Boudron bag company with a college friend. I sold my half of the business earlier this year for fifty-three million dollars. With my current investments, it will double in the next few years. I own and manage a landscaping company with twelve crews who upkeep the grounds of private companies and city parks. I’m not destitute. I’m not lazy. I’m just not a lawyer, nor do I have any interest in an inheritance from Grandfather’s estate. I’m sorry for lying to you this week, but after so many years of not speaking to each other, it didn’t seem important.”
He shuts the door in my face.
I deserve that. His fiancée broke up with him last night, and I’m thrilled. I have more money than he does, and I earned every penny. We may not agree on most things, but he’s still family. I want to build a relationship with him, but not right now.
I call Miles as I rush to my room and throw my clothes into a suitcase.
He answers after two rings. “Owen.”
“Has Layla’s flight left yet?”
A slight hesitation. “No, it doesn’t leave until eleven-thirty. Why?”
“Because I love her, and I have to tell her. Is she there with you?”
“I dropped her off fifteen minutes ago.”
I have less than two hours to make that flight, and that’s if there’s a seat available. I can make it if I leave now and speed. That won’t be easy in a Chevrolet van, but I’ve never shied away from hard things.
“Can you send me her flight number?” I ask.
“Let me pull over, and I’ll get the details for you.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
A few minutes later, I have the information I need. There is one more seat available and it’s in first class. The cost is exorbitant, but I remind myself that I can spend money, and it doesn’t make me a hypocrite. Also, Layla’s worth it. She’s worth everything.
I zip up my suitcase and run down to breakfast. I have five minutes to say goodbye to the family, then I’m off to tell the woman I love I can’t live without her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
LAYLA
I’ve spentthe time waiting for my flight to board, reading through texts my roommates sent to each other in our group chat over the past week.
