Page 86 of Seducing the Billionaire

I nod, not that he can see me, and hang up, staring at the phone for who knows how long. I swallow heavily, something thick and hot wedged in my throat that won’t go away. My eyes burn, but I refuse to touch them, afraid it might let that unidentifiable something loose.

What the hell am I going to do?

Chapter Thirty

Emma

“What are you doing home so early?”

I toss my purse on the entryway table, not caring that it completely misses and lands on the floor. That about sums up my day. My life, actually.

“I got fired.”

Mom sits up from her spot on the couch, turning off the game show she was watching, and gives me a once-over. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

I’d caught sight of myself in the polished elevator doors on the ride down at Bishop Tower—the splotchy face and raccoon eyes. But I couldn’t bring myself to care enough to do anything about it. At least I’d scored a seat on the subway, no questions asked, as others steered clear of me.

“Come here.” She folds her arms out wide, and I reluctantly join her, afraid to get too comfortable. I don’t deserve soothing. I seriously messed up. I let this whole thing go on too long, let myself get too close. I should have come clean to him earlier if I actually loved him. And now he found out about me in the worst possible way. Some jerkwad reporter wasn’t supposed to do it.

She rubs my back, but all I can think of is Connor doing the same not an hour ago trying to make me feel better about the money issue. And even with that, he shouldn’t have had to comfort me for paying off my mom’s hospital bill. He did it with good intentions, not as a way to control or placate me.

“Well, call up your dad and ask him to spot us until you can find something else and my disability gets approved.”

“He won’t.” I doubt he’ll be that forgiving. Not after everything he’s said previously. “Mom… I think he’s going to kick us out.”

She stops rubbing my back, her spine stiffening. “He wouldn’t do that. I’ve lived here for twenty-five years. He bought this house for me when I was pregnant with you.”

“Is your name on the deed?”

“Well, no, but—” She stands, leaning on the arm of the couch for support. “What makes you think he’ll make us leave?”

I can’t tell her how he basically tried to pimp me out. It’ll destroy her. “He’s having financial problems. He needs to sell this house.”

She grips her forehead, staring down at her feet. “Greg has plenty of money. It can’t be that bad.”

Across the room, my phone rings in my purse, my stomach filling with dread as I get up to answer it. Sure, it could be anyone calling. But somehow, I know exactly who’s on the other end.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Why’d you let yourself get caught like that?” he yells. “Huh? What were you thinking?” He must have seen the pictures online, then.

I walk into my room, silent, distancing myself from Mom, not wanting her more upset.

“Now some wannabe journalist has connected you to me, Connor will get suspicious—”

“He knows,” I interrupt him. “And he fired me. He’s not buying Montague Media.” Might as well lay it all out and save some time. No use in drawing this out.

And really, after losing Connor’s trust like that, his love, how can anything Dad has to say be worse? I’m already mentally prepared for him to make good on his threats.

“How the fuck could you do this to me?” he thunders after a moment. “After all I’ve given—”

I set the phone down, gathering up a few loose threads on my desk, waiting him out. What’s the point in listening to him rant for who knows how long?

When it seems like he’s slowed down, I pick it back up. “So what are you going to do?” I ask, wanting an answer already. Put me out of my misery worrying about what’ll happen. “Can me and mom stay in the house at least till we find somewhere else?” There’s no point in pleading for his forgiveness. I’m past caring.

“You’re not going to apologize? You screwed up, Emma.”

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