Page 61 of Scoring Grey

“Think about it, Eloise. How long has it been since he chose me over you?”

“Give it up, Blair. You’re not fooling anyone but yourself with this PR stunt you concocted. You’ve never been very smart. The timing of your contract with the Kings, the leaked picture…” I don’t mention the one I have of her leaving Austin’s room hours before. She doesn’t need to know what evidence I have, not yet, anyway. “You can play your game of smoke and mirrors with everyone else, but I know you’re nothing more than an opportunist, spinning a web of lies to make up for whatever pitiful existence you live when you’re not trying to steal someone else’s man.” I spin around. “I think we both know he never chose you.” I take a step closer. “You couldn’t even drug him into choosing you.” I don’t believe Cal was accidentally roofied. He didn’t see the smug smile she flashed me that night. The one that said checkmate.

Her black manicured nails reach for the ring Cal placed around my neck, and she examines it. “Do you think this ring makes you special?” She runs her thumb over the gold engraving. “Honestly, the more you talk, the more I feel sorry for you. This ring isn’t a promise. It’s not a token of his unwavering love. It’s the price of war, a small loss in exchange for a long-term gain.” She releases it. “You can wear his shiny things all you want because while you’re pathetically caught up in the whispers of his sweet nothings, I’m warming his bed. Do you really believe that Callum has been sitting around all these years pining over you? He was right. You truly are a dreamer, too caught up in fairy tales to see what’s been right in front of you all along. I hate to break it to you, but you and Callum Balfour are not star-crossed lovers, desperately waiting to be reunited.” She steps around me to look in the mirror. “If it’s a story you’re after, yours looks more like one of revenge. Don’t you see that playing the ill-fated lovers was the easiest pill to swallow? If he would be forced to endure your presence, lovers against destiny was his best move. He could see and fuck who he wanted when he wanted while you sat at home taking care of his snot-nosed baby?—”

I slap her hard across the face before my mind consciously has time to think it through. She grabs her cheek, her mouth open wide in shock as her dark eyes swing back to mine. “Keep my kid’s name out of your mouth. You want to come for me. Bring it, but coming after him will be the last mistake you ever make. I will end you.”

She drops her hand away from her face, chest heaving as I wait for her to make her move, but as expected, she cowers. “You’re not worth it. As soon as he gets what he wants from you, all this will be over anyway.”

I don’t even get to question her before she storms out of the room.

“Aaaaah.” I turn around in frustration, gripping the back of one of the wingback chairs. My heart knows her words are lies, but my brain wants to rationalize and dissect every detail of what she said, and it’s already quickly casting doubt. She’s not wrong about the years Cal and I have spent apart. He could come and go as he pleased and see whoever he wanted. The other side of that is I could do the same, but that’s not the part I’m stuck on; the part squeezing my heart is the tendril of doubt, saying he hasn’t been missing me the same way I have him. Those years of love lost were never a man trying to get back his girl but rather one with a heart of revenge stringing me along and ruining every relationship I might have because right now, nothing else speaks louder. What could he possibly want from me? He can’t take my money. We never married. The only thing I have is Adler.

Suddenly, I’m hot, and my legs feel like jello as air whooshes out of my lungs. He can’t really think he’d win Adler. Adler was born in Massachusetts, which is a fifty-fifty custody state. They don’t care who I am or how much money I have. They assess what is best for the child. “No,” I say aloud, trying to ground myself and see this for what it is: a tactic. “Get it together, Lou. He’s not building a case. You’re a good mom. She wants you to think that.” I focus on my breathing as I pull myself together. “Damn it, think, Lou.” That’s when something she said hits me. She didn’t say when Callum gets what he wants. She said, he. I quickly pull out my phone and shoot Iverson a text.

Eloise: Can you pull records on any business our family may have done with the Balfours or Wyndhams? You might have to go back decades, but I need to know ASAP.

It has to be money. It’s always money. I know Greenlight is on the verge of losing its ass, but what about Lucas? I’m confident he has his hand in this somehow.

Iverson: Any specific year?

I pace back and forth as I try to narrow it down. Iverson mentioned my mother was friends with Callum’s stepmother, Keely, but their friendship ended, and when Lucas threatened me all those years ago, he said he knew where the bones were buried. I have no recollection of our families ever being friends growing up, so this had to be before I was born. I stop dead in my tracks. Wait.

Eloise: Look at the year I was born.

Iverson: Something you’d like to tell me????

Eloise: Not yet.

Something had to have happened between the time Callum’s birth mother died and I was born. I’m onto something. I can feel it.

“Eloise,” I practically startle out of my skin as I was lost to my thoughts. “We need to talk.”

18

CALLUM

Iwaited as long as possible for Eloise to return from the bathroom before going after her. I exited out a different door than the one Wells escorted her out to be discreet, but seeing as I’ve stalked endless empty halls and still haven’t stumbled upon the bathroom he showed her to, I’m once again kicking myself for playing by her rules. However, today was different. When I walked through the front door this afternoon, I was hurt after everything that happened this weekend, so playing the card she dealt me felt a bit like payback. If seeing me with Blair pissed her off even a little, I was okay with it because I wanted her to feel a taste of her own medicine. Then, maybe she’d know what it’s like to walk in my shoes. But I could tell from the moment she walked in something was different, and it wasn’t just the accessory on her arm. It was the woman.

When we concocted this plan, we agreed we’d scout enemy territory, but as the lunch carried on, her mission changed. She was on the attack, and fuck if it didn’t piss me off as much as it made me hard. I wanted nothing more than to claim my woman in front of everyone in attendance. Hell, the guys and Coach Beck are already aware this relationship with Blair is all bullshit. Sitting there being forced to hold her hand and put on a show was a different level of torture. Then, to top it off, Eloise unveils a painting I had no idea existed. Finding out the day we met was scarred onto her heart the same way it is mine took every ounce of control I had not to spring out of my chair and scream at the top of my lungs that I’m her guy. That’s me. That’s us.

“Damn it, Lou, think,” I hear her say in a hushed tone, and I instantly pick up my stride, following the sound to the end of the hallway, where I find her pacing outside of the powder room. I don’t need her words to know something has her rattled, but I do need them so that I can help her. So we can be the team we agreed to be going into this.

“Eloise.” I step into the room, and she immediately startles. Understandable given she was clearly lost in thought, but the panic written all over her face and the step back she takes as I approach have my fists clenching. What the hell is that? “We need to talk,” I manage through the fury of emotions coursing through my veins. I’m positive that show out there wasn’t for Blair. It was for me. So what changed between then and now that has her like this? I take another step toward her. “What was that out there?”

She closes her eyes and releases a breath that sounds like relief, and it’s how I know I didn’t ask the right question. Instead, I asked a safe one. “You said I didn’t care.” Her tongue darts out, and she moistens her lips. “I’m never the one chasing you, and I don’t prioritize you. I wanted to show you that’s not true.”

“Yeah, I got that. You’re pretty good at sweeping pronouncements.” I run my hand over the five o’clock shadow that has appeared over the past few days from lack of sleep. I’ll give her all the praise and words worthy of such a show after I find out why the girl from the conservatory is gone, a shell of reticence left in her place. We are alone. I haven’t seen her in two days, and while I may have hung up on her and avoided her calls, the minute my eyes landed on her today, whatever I was mad about faded away. Relationships are work; show me one that is roses every day, and I’ll place my bet on how long before they break up. Sometimes, it takes getting mad and letting things hurt to let it go, but more than that, it tells your person what you’re willing to accept and what’s a hard limit. This weekend, I put my foot down. I’ll do anything for her, but damn it, I need her to stop shutting me out. I need her to let me in. I need to know she wants me here. “Tell me what this is. Why go through all that out there, only to back away from me now?”

“Where did you sleep last night?”

“What?” I question incredulously.

“You heard me. I know it wasn’t your bed. When I got home this afternoon to change and grab one of the dresses out of your closet, my robe was still draped over your bed in the exact spot I left it two days ago.”

“Are you serious?” I snap my head back in shock.

“Answer the question!” she demands as her light blue eyes darken, not with anger but pain.

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