What scenarios must he be spinning? What secrets have people kept from him that make him so closed off and distrustful?
“We rely on donations to help fund most of the programs I run at the library, and that funding was pulled earlier this week.” I start off with the truth that has less bite. “So I’ve been writing grant proposals.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I can help with this. How much does the library need? Who was the donor, and why did they pull their funding?” Connor volleys questions at me.
I run my hands down my thighs and press my nails against my knees. “I don’t have all the details, but I believe it was probably a division of Grace Hotels. A foundation, perhaps?”
“Meems wouldn’t pull a donation from the library.”
“No, she wouldn’t,” I agree.
He turns onto his street, brow furrowed.
Now to tell him the hard part. “Your father paid me a visit at the library while you were away.” I don’t need to say more. The dots are already connected.
“What did he say to you?”
“Nothing he doesn’t believe is true.”
He punches in the code, and the gates open. “Tell me what he said, Mildred.”
“I don’t really want to,” I say softly.
Connor parks and we exit the vehicle. He follows me up the front steps.
Cedrick opens the door.
I force a smile.
“Is everything all right?” Cedrick asks.
“We’re fine,” I lie.
“Mildred and I would like privacy for the remainder of the evening,” Connor clips out and heads for the elevator.
“Yes, sir.” Cedrick rushes off, leaving me alone with my angry husband.
Thanks for the save, Ceddy.
Connor waits until we’re in the elevator. “Tell me.”
I’m too tired and sad to fight with him. “He said I would never be a Grace.”
“You’re my wife. You are a Grace.”
“He also said I was a whore.”
Connor’s eyes flash, and for a moment I see the hockey player who doesn’t mind being the villain on the ice. “That fucker.”
“He’s not wrong, though, is he, Connor? You’re paying me to play this role.” I hold up my hand with the massive diamond ring on it. “And we’re fucking, so doesn’t that make me exactly what he says I am?”
My stomach twists as his expression darkens.
“Nowhere in our contract does it say you’re obligated to sleep with me.”
“But we still have a contract.” And isn’t that the piece that I keep circling back to?
These feelings I have don’t sit inside the written agreement. And his outrage at his father’s behavior could be tied to so many things. Is he angry because he truly cares, or is it because my unhappiness directly affects all the things that are important to him?