Laughing, I follow her into her apartment.

  “I have the worst neighbors,” Chelsea says. “That’s one of the problems of being as rich as I am and being able to afford to live where I live. I’m completely surrounded by old widows or creepy old men that feel like they can treat me like shit just because that’s what they’ve always done to women since the fifties.”

  I laugh. When she misses a step and trips, I put my hand around her waist and prop her up.

  Our eyes meet and neither of us look away.

  She’s beautiful and funny and before I know what I’m doing I feel myself pulling closer to her. With our lips almost touching, she steps up on her tiptoes and kisses me.

  Her lips are soft but her mouth is strong. She buries her hands in my hair and I wrap my arms around her waist. I keep my eyes shut. When I open them for a moment, it only occurs to me that she is not Aurora.

  I let out a sigh. Before I can step away, she grabs up my shirt and pulls me closer. A few moments later, we are on the kitchen floor.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Chelsea says.

  “What?” I mumble through the kiss.

  “You want me to be her.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Yes, you do. And I want you to be Franklin."

  She must be really drunk or maybe I am, but I don’t know how to respond to this.

  “Listen, let’s just do this," she says. “I want to feel anything but pain. I want to feel something real.”

  I shake my head. I might have been able to do it before but now it just feels too… Awkward.

  I push away from Chelsea and get up. I walk over to the living room. I take a seat on her plush couch and stare at the unusual statue of a dragon in the corner of the room. It’s nearly six-feet tall and would be overwhelming the space if there were anything else around it.

  “You don’t like it, do you?” Chelsea asks, plopping down on the seat next to me.

  “No, not really.”

  "You know, you’re the first person who has said that to me in a very long time.” She laughs. “No, actually! I think you’re the first person who has ever said anything like that to me.”

  “Okay, thank you, I guess," I say.

  “No, thank you. In my life, I have a lot of yes-men and not too many people telling me the truth about, well, anything.”

  Chelsea gets up and walks over to the bar at the far end of the room. She pours herself a glass of wine and then asks me if I want anything.

  I shake my head no. This evening has been long and drunk enough already.

  "I thought that Franklin would tell you the truth,” I say. "He seems like the type.”

  She shrugs her shoulders and sits down next to me on the couch, this time much closer.

  “You would think so, but he had other problems.”

  I want to ask her more about him and their relationship, but something holds me back.

  “Listen, it has been a long day and I have to get back home.”

  “To Montauk?”

  “Yep," I say.

  “But that’s like a three-hour drive.”

  “That’s where my mom lives.”

  “I’m really sorry about what she has going on,” she says, pausing slightly in the middle as if saying the word cancer is just too difficult for her.

  “Thank you, I really have hope that everything will be fine.”

  “You were so brave to just come out and tell us all about her situation.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Or maybe I’m just a realist. I don’t know. I mean, I’m not gonna sit around a table and pretend that my life is anything like yours, so I figured why not just tell you the truth? Especially since you asked.”

  Chelsea moves closer to me, pressing her lips onto mine. I try to pull away, but I don’t. It feels good to kiss her and I haven’t felt good in a long time.

  Chelsea buries her hands in my hair again, tugging slightly and sending shivers down my spine. I run my fingers down her neck and over her collarbone. Then I follow my lips down the exact same path, all the way down to her breasts.

  She leans her body against the couch, arching her back. When I kiss her, she digs her fingers into my back. Our mouths become one as our tongues intertwine.

  Suddenly, she pushes me away.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask as she sits up and throws her head between her legs.

  Her body makes a loud heaving sound and she throws up.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, pulling her hair out of her face.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbles and throws up again.

  “It’s okay," I repeat myself over and over again. “It’s fine. I just want you to feel better.”

  I run over to the kitchen and pour her a glass of water. After helping her to the bedroom, I tuck her into bed. I pull the trashcan over just in case.

  “Thank you so much,” she mumbles as I turn off the lights.

  After cleaning up the couch and the floor, I throw away the paper towels and leave her apartment.

  27

  Aurora

  The following morning I wake up early and decide to surprise Franklin with some coffee and bagels. I did not spend the night with him, but instead went back to my apartment as soon as Chelsea and Henry left. But Henry texted me and told me about the money that he gave Henry. I know that it’s not much to Franklin, but I am still shocked by his generosity. It means so much to Henry.

  I am so taken aback by his kindness I start to wonder if I’m wrong about him. Perhaps, he’s not as terrible a person as I had made him out to be.

  The truth is that I don’t actually know very much about Franklin. I thought all of this time that we have spent together would enlighten me about who he really is, but it hasn’t. And every little bit just adds to the mystery.

  The doorman waves me through and the elevator attendant makes small talk about the weather as we ride up.

  I walk in and put the breakfast on the kitchen table. Instead of leaving it in the brown paper bag, I lay everything out on serving dishes, the bagels, the different types of cream cheese, and the fruit.

  I don’t actually know what kind of bagels or fruit or even breakfast Franklin likes, but I figure today is as good a day as any to find out.

  After everything is set up, I walk down the hallway to his bedroom and quietly open the door. That’s when I see them.

  Franklin is spread-eagled on the bed completely nude and a svelte brunette is laying under the sheet, right next to him, facing away from me.

  For a moment, I’m tempted to not make a scene. I consider simply sneaking out of the room, tiptoeing back out of the door and not ever talking about this again.

  But then, I spot the hundred-thousand dollar watch that’s on the dresser. Before I realize what I’m doing, I grab it and slam it to the floor.

  They jump up, startled.

  “What, what are you doing there?” Franklin roars. “What are you doing with my watch?”

  “Who is that?” I demand to know.

  The girl waves shyly to me and then quickly starts to get dressed and gather her things. She finds her dress on the banister and her underwear on the couch all the way across the room.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” I ask. Franklin doesn’t respond.

  “Hi, I’m Aurora Tate. His fiancée. And you are?" I extend my hand demonstratively to her.

  “You’re Aurora Tate?” she gasps, stopping the search for her bra.

  I spot something black and lacy on top of the dresser and hand it to her.

  Shit, I should not have told her my name, I realize when it’s too late.

  “I’m Lindsey,” she says, giving me a limp shake of the hand. “I’m leaving now.”

  “No, that’s okay, stay. I brought you guys some breakfast,” I say.

  “Is that why you’re here?” Franklin asks.

  With anyone else, he would have the decency to put on his pants, but not him. He just stands there, completely nude, challenging me with his gaze.

  “Yeah. Henry told me what a nice thing you did and I just wanted to come here and thank you for being such a wonderful guy,” I say sarcastically.

  When I walk away from him, he catches me by the front door. I open the door and he slams it shut. When I reach for it again, he again stops me.

  “I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

  “I don’t want to hear anything.”

  “Are you serious? I had to practically force you to even kiss me! What do you expect me to do?”

  “You are such an asshole!"

  “I don’t know where we stand,” he says. “You don’t even seem to want to marry me.”

  "I don’t! You’ve got that right.”

  He takes a step away from me.

  “Do you want to call this off?" he asks after a moment.

  I shrug.

  Yes, of course the answer is yes. If he were anyone else then he would already know that.

  “In that case,” he says, “the deal is off.”

  “What deal?”

  “Tate Media. I don’t want it. I’m not gonna go through with the offer.”

  “No, you have to,” I plead, hating the way that my voice cracks in the middle.

  “I don’t have to do anything. You don't want to marry me because you think I’m a cheating asshole? Well, two can play that game. I don’t wanna marry you because I think your company is worthless and you are still in love with your ex-boyfriend. How about that? What do you think about that?”

  “You can’t pull your offer,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Why not?”

  “That will make the stock price drop to nothing. We will lose everything.”

  “You’ll have money to spare,” he scoffs.

  “All of our investors lose everything, and all of the people who have their pensions tied up in the company and in the shares will lose everything.”

  “What do I care about them?” he asks, shaking his head.

  “No, you do care. I know you do," I insist.

  When he walks back to his bedroom, I follow him.

  I wait for him to get dressed before saying anything else.

  “Why did you do that?” I ask. "Who is she?”

  “Just some girl I met in the club a while ago. When you didn’t stay last night, I called her up and she was down to party.”

  I turn away from him and wrap my arms around myself.

  “What’s the big deal? It’s not like this is a real marriage?”

  “I thought you wanted it to be.”

  “Well, clearly you don’t.”

  “Franklin, I don’t really understand what we’re doing here. Why do you want to get married? Why do you want to marry me?”

  I follow him out to the kitchen and he leans against the island. Popping a grape into his mouth, he chews it up before looking at me again.

  “I don’t know why,” he says, taking another grape, this time chewing with his mouth open. “Maybe it’s because you were the only one whoever said no.”

  There isn’t anywhere to go from here. After I leave his apartment, I walk straight home but when I get there, I can’t bring myself to go upstairs.

  So, I just keep walking in circles.

  When I get hungry, I pop into a local vegan restaurant and have some lunch. My head is in a fog.

  Why did I go there? I wonder. What did I even expect from him?

  I guess a part of me thought that maybe we could actually make this marriage work.

  Maybe it didn’t start out under the best of circumstances, but that doesn’t mean that we couldn’t be happy.

  But seeing her there, I realize that if he wasn’t happy with me then he would just turn to someone else.

  We don’t have anything in common.

  He sees me only as something to possess.

  Would that ever change? I have no idea.

  How is your mom doing? I text Henry.

  Okay, I guess, considering the circumstances. He texts back.

  When I pick up my phone and call him, he answers on the first ring.

  “Can I see you?” I ask. “I have something to tell you.”

  28

  Henry

  I don’t know why I’m going back there. I only got home around four in the morning, but when Aurora calls and asks to see me, I lie and say that I’m in the city already.

  I want to see her.

  I want to touch her.

  At the very least, I want to be in the same room with her. Video chat isn’t enough.

  There’s a screen separating us and I need to make that distance go away.

  I take a deep breath when I walk up to her apartment. I don’t know what to expect.

  She may not want to talk to me about anything personal or anything to do with us at all.

  She may want to talk about my mother or worse yet Franklin. I have to be ready for that.

  But no matter how much I try I can’t seem to make the jitters go away.

  Aurora shows me inside and offers me some food from the hors d’oeuvres that she has set out on the kitchen island.

  There are chips, crisps, fruits, and vegetables.

  I’m really hungry and I make myself a small plate.

  She offers me something to drink, and we split a cider.

  She asks about my mother and I tell her that nothing has changed since last night. I bring up the money that Franklin has given me and thank her as well.

  "That was all him,” she reassures me.

  Then she stops talking and looks down at her hands.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “I have to tell you something. I wasn’t going to but now something has happened and I am more lost than before."

  "Yes, of course, you can tell me anything," I say.

  She shakes her head and buries her face in her palms.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. “Did something happen? Did he do something to you?”

  She lifts her head and looks into my eyes.

  “Our marriage is a sham,” she says quietly.

  I exhale slowly.

  “Did you catch him cheating on you?” I ask.

  I know Franklin well enough to know his reputation and to know how he treats women. I thought that his feelings for her were stronger than his basic urges, but now I realize that nothing has changed. Once an asshole, always an asshole.

  “Yes, he did,” she says, “but it’s not about that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This whole thing has been a lie right from the beginning," she says. Her voice cracks in the middle of each word, as she inhales her sobs.

  I wait patiently for her to continue.

  But she doesn’t say anything else. I wait some more, eventually kneeling down next to her and just holding her while she cries.

  “My father was arrested for insider trading and a few other charges. He isn’t well and as soon as he was in custody, he had a heart attack,” Aurora says after moment. “That’s when my mom told me about the arrangement.”

  “What arrangement?”

  “They have been trying to sell Tate Media for a while to pay off its debts, but they didn’t have any takers. My father has been stealing money from the pension funds and if the company goes under then there won’t be any way to pay any of those people back. They would lose all of the retirements, and they’re not wealthy. They’re people like your mom who have worked their whole lives and want to retire and live out their golden years in some peace and stability.”

  I nod my head, listening carefully.

  “The only way I could help them and help my father is if I agreed to do something that I never thought I would.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to believe the words that are coming out of her mouth.

  “I had to say yes. That was the only way he was going to buy the company and save everyone’s jobs. It was the only way that I could help my father and preserve my family‘s legacy.”

  “Say yes to what?" I ask.

  “He wanted to marry me. Apparently, I am the only woman who has ever said no to him and that’s the only reason he wanted to make me his wife.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Our whole engagement is a farce,” she says. "We were never dating. He just wanted to be engaged and he wanted me to marry him and in exchange he would save Tate Media.”

  “What happened to your father’s case?” I ask.

  ‘I don’t know exactly. The lawyers aren’t telling me much. But everyone just seems happy that the charges were dropped because Franklin pulled a few strings.”

  “Why are you telling me this now?” I ask. "Did something happen?”

  She gets up and paces around the room, nervously cracking her knuckles.

  “I thought that I could make it work,” she says after a moment. “I thought that maybe this could be a real marriage. But then this morning, I walked in on him with another woman. After I left last night –”

  “You didn’t stay there last night?” I ask. A pang of guilt overcomes me as I think back to my own evening with Chelsea.

  “No, nothing has ever happened between us yet. Nothing significant, anyway.”

  I find that hard to believe, but I don’t say anything.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “It just never felt right. Every time that we’ve been together it just felt like I had to be there. I never wanted to be with him. You have to believe me.”

  She looks up at me with big wide eyes.

  “Of course, I believe you,” I say, draping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to me.

  I inhale the sweet aroma of her hair and bury my face in it. She holds onto me tightly before letting herself go. Her sobs are quiet at first but they grow bigger and louder.

  “I don’t know why I am crying,” she says, pulling away from me occasionally but continuing to cry. “It’s so stupid, I feel so dumb."

  "No, please don’t. I’m here for you. No matter what.”

 

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