Wish I May (33 page)

I don’t know what Will would do if he found out about what happened tonight, but I’m sure that, like Maggie, he’d want me to file charges. But I can’t tell anyone what Carl did because I’m too terrified he’ll share what he knows about me.

“Maggie, what does Carl do for a living?”

“He’s some sort of PI, I think. Pics of husbands cheating on their wives, that kind of thing.”

I swallow and make myself ask, “Do you have any idea who might have hired him to find something out about me?”

Maggie frowns. “Who would do that?”

But I already know the answer.

“You want to act like you’re better than your mama, but I know the truth.”

If someone hired a private investigator to look into my past, it won’t be long before William finds out what I haven’t had to courage to tell him. I got caught and sent to juvie when I met with the second man Anthony sent me to. I have no doubt that’s how Carl York found out the truth. I assumed my juvenile record would be sealed, but I wasn’t so lucky. When I was arrested for breaking and entering at nineteen, the court decided not to seal it. I had a box of jewelry in one of Brandon’s homes that I was trying to get to after he was sentenced. Only it wasn’t his house anymore, and I got caught.

Was I ever going to tell William the truth about my first years in Vegas? Or was I hoping my past would just disappear if I wished hard enough?

I know what I need to do, and when I leave my massage studio I go straight to my car. There’s no question in my mind who hired Carl, and I need to make sure she lets me tell William the truth before she can.

Venus Salon is a swanky place by campus where all the sorority girls get their hair foiled and nails painted. The place is bustling on this Friday night, with every chair in the salon occupied and several people in the waiting area.

I’m two steps inside the doors when I spot Meredith.

She crosses her arms around her middle at the sight of me, hugging herself as she approaches. “Can I help you?”

All eyes are on us. “Can we go somewhere private to talk?”

Her jaw is hard, her disgust with me all over her face, as if my presence repulses her. “Fine. Follow me.”

We cut through the salon. The stylists stop working and stare as us as I follow her back to the office. I could swear I hear one of them mutter
“Home wrecker”
as I step into the office.

Meredith closes the door behind me. “What can I do for you?”

I frown as she lowers herself into a chair. Her face is pale. “Are you okay?”

She waves a hand. “I’m fine.”

“I….” I should have thought this through. What am I going to say? How am I going to convince her to stay quiet? And if she agrees to wait, do I really have the courage to tell William myself?

Before I can figure out what to say, she motions to the chair across from her. “Will you sit? I wanted to talk to you anyway, so I’m actually glad you’re here.”

I swallow. Shit. Am I too late?

“I have a proposition for you.”

“A what?”

“Twenty thousand.”

I cross my arms. “Twenty thousand what?”

“Dollars.”

I blink at her, then my breath rushes from my chest. “You’re blackmailing me?” My heart pounds.

“What? How could I blackmail you?”

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Exactly. That’s why I’m offering it to you. Twenty thousand dollars. A little gift from me to you. I know about your dad’s house.”

I feel like I’ve been dropped into the wrong conversation. Nothing she’s saying makes sense. No matter what she tells William, she hates me. Why would she want to give me money? “What about Dad’s house?”

She raises a brow. “The foreclosure? The auction? What, are you so busy screwing my man that you aren’t even reading the mail that comes to your house? I have friends at the bank. Your dad is eighteen months behind on his mortgage. They’ve given him every opportunity, but time’s up. The bank is auctioning it off? I suppose you don’t mind. You’ll just move your crew in with Will, continue to suck him dry, huh? Real classy.”

My stomach flips, turns sour, and tightens on itself all in one painful moment. “Dad’s house is being foreclosed on?”

She leans forward and narrows her eyes at me. “Are you seriously that clueless?”

“I had no idea.” And she’s not far off the mark. I’ve been too caught up in my own temporary fairytale.

Is she telling the truth about the house? Does Dad know? Has he been keeping this from me? Then the rest of her words sink in. “You’re offering me twenty thousand dollars to save my house?”

She laughs. “There you go. Finally catching on. Good girl.”

“What’s the catch?”

She drops her gaze to the desk where she drums her perfectly manicured nails. Her voice isn’t as cocky when she speaks again. “I think you know.”

“William,” I say softly.

“You came back into town like you’d never left. Swept in and stepped right back into his life, with no mind to the fact that you were pushing me out. I’ll give you twenty thousand. You can save your little sisters’ home and then leave town.” She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. “Or maybe you’ll just take the money and run, screwing over your family like you screwed over Will by coming back. I don’t care. I just want you gone.”

My world spins wildly as she explains what she’s already arranged—an account in my name that she’ll wire the money to as soon as she’s satisfied I’ve made a clean break with William and left town.

When she’s done explaining, I ask, “And if I don’t take it?”

Sighing, she shakes her head. “Don’t be stupid, Cally. Eventually William is going to come to his senses and see that you’re not the girl he wants to spend his life with.”

“Is this why you hired Carl York? So I wouldn’t have a choice? So I’d have to take your money?”

“Carl York? The PI? Why would I hire him? The foreclosure is public record.”

I feel like I’ve been sucker punched in the solar plexus. If she didn’t hire Carl, who did?

“Think about it,” she says. “It’s a lot of money.”

“Bribing me to leave isn’t going to buy you William. He’s not for sale.” I put the words out there. Intentionally baiting her to see if she knows more than she’s saying, to see if she’ll say,
“But you are.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. Will and I were good together. He’ll come around. But do you want to know that truth?”

No. I don’t want to know the truth. I want to hide from it in fantastical beliefs about wishes and destiny. The truth has done me no favors.

“Even if he doesn’t want me back—which, let’s face it, he will—it would be worth every penny just so I didn’t have to see him with you.”

Electric bill, gas bill, water bill. My hands shake as I tear through the stack of mail on Dad’s kitchen counter.

I freeze when I see it. The New Hope Bank logo on the front left corner. The letter is addressed to my father and explains how the auction will work and the amount he must pay by next Friday if he wants to keep his house.

My stomach goes into a free fall, my heart following shortly behind.

I don’t realize he’s watching me until I hear him clear his throat. “I’ve been sending them as much as I can.” Worry wrinkles my father’s brow and draws his features downward. Suddenly, he looks much older than he is.

“If you’ve been sending money, why are you going into foreclosure?”

He takes the letter from my hands and taps it nervously on the counter. “I was already so far behind, and I wasn’t able to catch up fast enough.”

I close my eyes. “If you would have told me, we could have cut our losses on this place and moved you and the girls somewhere else. Instead, you’ve been throwing good money after bad, and now you’re going to lose it all.”

“I thought it would work out.” His eyes are so sad, and my heart breaks for him. One of the smartest men I’ve ever met caught up in a delusion.

“
This
is how things ‘work out’ when you don’t take care of them, Dad.
This
is what happens. Everything falls apart and all the work you’ve done, all the sacrifices you’ve made amount to nothing.”

“Then maybe
nothing
is exactly what the Universe knows we need,” he says softly.

“No!” I point my finger in his face and my body trembles with sudden rage. “The
Universe
wants you to take care of your shit. This isn’t something that’s going to get better by wishing on stars.
Destiny
can’t swoop in and save the day.”

“Everything happens for a reason, Cally. You have to believe that.”

“Believe it? I believe it’s an excuse for people who don’t want to take responsibility for their own decisions. It’s a dream world for men who can’t deal with the fact that they’ve let their families down.” I want to rail at him, to tell him the rest. I want to scream that while he was in India telling himself that ‘everything happens for a reason,’ I was in Vegas, spreading my legs for the highest bidder.

But I bite my tongue. I keep the truth locked inside because I may have sold my body but I didn’t sell my heart. And my heart won’t let me destroy my father with what I’ve done.

“You
set me up
for disappointment. You taught me all that magic bullshit and we lost everything.” I might spare him from the whole truth but he needs to understand the consequences of his beliefs. “When we first moved to Vegas, I thought the shit life we were living was
my fault
. I hadn’t wanted to leave and I had a terrible attitude about it. When Gabby cried at bedtime because her piece of bread wasn’t enough to fill her belly, I thought I wasn’t
believing
hard enough. Don’t assign all your spiritual nonsense to us losing this house. Because that’s on
you
.”

Dad’s eyes fill with tears, and I regret even that much of my confession. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Drew as she runs from the room.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“I had no idea,” Dad says, and the horror on his face is so terrible I wish more than anything I could take it all back. I wish I could package up the terrifying reality of those early days in Vegas and lock it away where it can’t hurt anyone else.

“Of course you didn’t,” I whisper. My anger leaves as quickly as it came, and now I just feel empty.

“I wish you would have…If I’d known…Your mother said…”

“Yeah. I wish you would have known too.” I shrug awkwardly. “What’s done is done. And we made it out alive.”

“You’re mother never told me how bad it was.”

She was too stoned.
But I don’t say it. “I need to talk to Drew.”

I leave my dad to deal with his shock and find her alone in her room, sitting in a corner, her knees drawn to her chest.

“You made me love this piece-of-shit house,” she mutters. “You made me love it, and now I’m losing it too.”

“I’m sorry, Drew,” I whisper. “I’m going to find a way to fix it. I promise.”