Page 98 of Fairy Tale Lies
“Why do you love her?” Will persisted.
Jacob scowled at his brother and shrugged. “Are you sure you weren’t born with a vagina?”
“Answer the question, douche bag. Do you love her looks, her money? What specifically?”
“Nothing specific.” Jacob slammed his hands on his legs, exasperated. “I love her for her. What’s your point?”
“Thatismy point, dumbass. It’s what makes you two the perfect match. People don’t need to come from the same city or have identical upbringings. They only need to love and respect each other for who they are, not what they can offer. That’s what you two had. You’re just too stupid to understand love and life are messy. You, more than anybody, should know this.” Will lifted his shoulders and his hands, palms up, as if in surrender. He dropped them and stood, moving toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” Will rolled his shoulders. “Maybe I’ll lift weights or shoot hoops. Something to make sure my testosterone doesn’t morph into estrogen.”
Jacob snorted. “Good idea.”
Will reached the hall, and Jacob cleared his throat, needing to say something. “Thanks. I’m not sure what I’ll do with your advice, but thanks.”
Will gripped the doorframe. “Welcome. Think about it, okay? Don’t fuck up a good thing. Remember, that’s my job.”
“Stop saying that shit,” Jacob called to his brother’s retreating back.
Will waved, not bothering to slow or turn around.
Chapter Forty
Winter’s brutal grip was finally letting up. The robins had returned, and the tulips were in full bloom. Greta barely noticed. It could have been the dead of winter, the way icy gloom clung to her like an old itchy wool coat.
She should be happy, elated. Her college days were finished. She’d graduated summa cum laude, secured a job at a large reputable web design company, and even found a fabulous apartment. All without any help from her parents.
On paper, her life was perfect. Independence. A great job. An awesome apartment.
Instead, the reality was hollow. Life was dreary and tiresome. Her heartache drained her joy.
Jacob might have left months ago, but he still held a firm grip on her heart. She needed to move forward.
Hopefully today’s excursion will help.
As she pulled onto Adams Ave, hope and anxiety surged through Greta, making her heart thump and her pulse race in a staccato rhythm. After finding a parking spot right across the street from Rework, she shut off the car and closed her eyes, listening to a man’s velvety voice croon on the radio about illusions and love.
Before losing her nerve, Greta started for Rework. She took in its massive front window. It gave an unrestricted view of an office and a showcase area.
Her heart skipped a beat.
The sign she’d given Jacob for Christmas hung high on the exposed brick wall between two massive display cases. A desk with a woman, head down reading something, sat front and center. Pride for his accomplishment bloomed within Greta.
A door at the back swung open, and Jacob strolled out. She sucked in a breath as a myriad of emotions slammed through her. Love. Hurt. Sadness. Hope. Greta sagged against her car, waiting for her heart to stop thrashing against her ribs.
He walked to the blonde woman at the desk, and parts Greta thought dead, awoke. She had an overpowering urge to run into the shop and wrap herself in his strong arms. Hurt and anger temporarily were forgotten, replaced with a longing so intense it stole her breath.
The woman looked up, admiration spilling from the smile spreading across her lips. Indignation slammed into Greta.
The blonde wasn’t a stranger.
What the hell is Macy doing there?
Jacob had his back to the window. His body language was impossible to read. However, Macy’s was easy enough: greedy longing. She stood and placed a hand on his chest.
Greta’s splintered heart shattered.
