Beg For Me: Chapter 25

Carter calls my cell while I’m standing in the pantry looking for something to make for dinner. There’s not much that interests me, so it looks like it might be a take-out pizza night.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Did you see the article?”

“I saw it.”

“Are you okay?”

“I got reamed out by my boss, but yes, I’m okay. You?”

He chuckles. “I got reamed out by my brother, but yes, I’m okay.”

“Which brother?”

“Callum.”

“Ah. The arrogant, controlling one.”

“You remember I said that?” He sounds pleased.

“Of course I remember. I also remember he told you that you should stop being a pussy and buy the house next door to mine. It seems hypocritical that he’d get angry after that advice.”

“That’s exactly what I told him!”

“What did he say?”

“He was angry that I remembered.”

We both laugh at that, then Carter grows serious. “But we’re taking care of it, so you don’t need to worry.”

I wander into the kitchen and open the fridge. “What do you mean, you’re taking care of it?”

“That tabloid won’t be publishing any more articles about us.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because we’re buying them.”

I let the fridge door swing shut and stand there squinting at it. “Buying them?”

“Acquiring them, yes.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Dazed, I walk over to the kitchen table and sink into a chair.

“You’re not saying anything.”

“I’m processing.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I think I’m in a state of shock. I was going to contact an attorney about suing them for that pic they snapped of us in your backyard.”

“Yeah, that was definitely actionable. The others weren’t because we were in public, but the editor who ran the story and the photographer who took the pictures have both been dealt with.”

“What do you mean dealt with?”

He pauses before answering, as if trying to decide how much to disclose. “I think it’s better if you don’t know the details.”

Surprised, I lift my brows. “That sounds suspicious. Did you and your brother go to Vegas and dig a few holes in the desert?”

Without missing a beat, he replies, “No. I told you we have staff for that.”

When I don’t say anything, he laughs. “I’m only kidding.”

“Are you? I’m not entirely sure.”

“The point is that you don’t have to worry about them publishing any more stories about us, okay? They’ve been a thorn in my side for years, but I didn’t care enough to do anything about it before.” His voice softens. “But now, because of you, I do.”

It occurs to me for the first time that the McCord family might be more than a normal family. They might be a Family, capital F.

“Hello? Did I lose you?”

“No. I’m…I’m still here.”

“You sound funny.”

“Carter?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“If you were involved in anything illegal, would you tell me?”

Another long pause. “Would you want to know?”

I’m about to say a forceful yes but rethink it. Would I want to know? Or would knowing put me in jeopardy? More importantly, would it put Harlow in jeopardy?

Adrenaline floods my veins. My heart starts pounding. I clutch the phone in a death grip with shaking hands. “You promised me you’d tell me the truth.”

“And I will. Ask me anything.”

“Are you involved in anything illegal?”

“No,” he says instantly. Then after a brief hesitation, he adds, “I’m not.”

He put a slight but important emphasis on the word “I’m.”

“You’re telling me the rest of your family is?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Jesus, Carter, please don’t equivocate! This is too important.”

He sighs. “We shouldn’t talk about this over the phone.”

I pull the cell away from my ear and stare at it in horror. Then I put it back to my ear and hiss, “Why, is the FBI listening?”

His chuckle is delighted. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“I only meant that there are…delicacies that should be discussed face to face.”

I leap to my feet and start pacing. “Oh my God. You’re in the Mafia.”

“No, we’re absolutely not in the Mafia.” After a thoughtful beat, he adds, “That would be kinda cool though, wouldn’t it?”

“No! It would not be cool! In no way would it be cool!”

“You seem a little upset.”

“If you tell me to calm down, I’ll scream.”

“I was only making an observation. When can I see you?”

Harlow wanders into the living room, flops onto the sofa, and turns on the TV. I stare at her with my heart thumping and my hands shaking, wondering if I’ve endangered my child’s life by seeing this man on the other end of the phone who’s saying he’s not in the Mafia but making it sound like he actually is.

Every damn time I think all the wrinkles in my life have been ironed out, worse wrinkles appear.

An incoming call notification buzzes on my phone. I glance at the screen.

It’s Nick.

Because of course it would be Nick. No doubt he’s seen the pictures too.

Carter says, “Hello?”

Going back into the pantry to hide, I cover the phone with my hand and whisper, “Come over at midnight. Park down the block. And don’t ring the bell. I’ll be watching for you.”

His chuckle is wry. “Sounds clandestine. Should I wear a trench coat and a fedora and bring the microfilm?”

“This is no time for jokes.”

He sighs. “I love it when you use that snippy tone of voice. No, it’s not snippy. What’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Angry!”

“Yes! Angry. You’re so fucking hot when you get mad.”

I take a few deep breaths, counting silently to ten. Then I say through gritted teeth, “Midnight. Don’t be late. And be prepared to answer all my questions, got it?”

He drawls, “Yes, ma’am. But if I don’t, will you give me a spanking?”

I make a growled noise of frustration and disconnect the call, but not before I hear the sound of his laughter.

I order pizza. When it arrives, I throw a twenty at the delivery driver for a tip and slam the door in his face. I open it immediately after and apologize, then shut it again calmly, like a normal person and not the mess I actually am.

If I find out Carter’s in the Mafia, I’ll have to be sedated.

Harlow and I eat in front of the TV, watching basketball. In the middle of a commercial, she turns to me.

“So this Carter guy. You like him?”

I feel an interrogation coming on and steady myself before I answer. “I do.”

“Is he nice to you?”

“He is.”

She thoughtfully chews her slice of pepperoni. “Did you meet him on a dating app?”

“No, we’ve known each other since last year. He works in the same industry as me. I ran into him recently, and he asked me out.”

There are more holes in that story than a slice of Swiss cheese, but the details of how we met are on a need-to-know basis, and she doesn’t need to know.

“Is he like…”

“What?”

“I mean, he just looks sorta…maybe not that smart?”

“Because he’s so handsome, you mean.”

She wrinkles her nose. “He looks like all he does is go to the gym and stare at himself in a mirror.”

“I take it you disapprove.”

She glances at me sideways. “Why? If I said I did, would you stop seeing him?”

“Yes.”

She does a double-take and stares at me. “Really?”

I sigh, set down my glass of wine, and turn to her. “Honey, my love life isn’t as important to me as you are. I really like Carter, but I love you. You’re the priority.”

After a moment of examining my face, she starts chewing again, turning back to the TV.

“So is he dumb?”

“No, he’s actually brilliant. People underestimate him because of his looks.”

“I figured you wouldn’t be interested in an airhead, but you never know. Sex makes people nuts. I mean, look at Dad. Britt has the IQ of a wet sock.”

I shove a piece of pizza into my mouth so I don’t comment.

Gazing at the TV, she says, “How come you’re so nice to her?”

“Because if I were a bitch, it would make everyone’s life more complicated, and it wouldn’t change anything anyway.”

“Hmm.” She chews for a moment. “Also ’cause it pisses Dad off too, right?”

I smile. “You know I can’t answer that question.”

“He talks about you all the time, by the way. It’s totally creepy.”

Frowning, I look at her askance. “What do you mean?”

“Like, he compares Britt to you. Right in front of her. ‘Sophia would never wear that. Sophia would never say that. Sophia’s cooking is so much better than this.’ Like that.”

I’m shocked by that revelation. “He says those things in front of her?”

She nods. “Sometimes, it makes her cry.”

“Well, that’s just shitty!”

“Totes. But she never argues with him. She’s a major simp. It’s probably because of her dad.”

“What about her father?”

“He used to hit her when she was growing up. Her mom too. I think they both have battered woman syndrome. I’ve met her mom a couple times, and she’s sweet but a wreck. She jumps at the slightest sound. Flinches if you move too quick around her. Dad told Britt she can’t see her anymore. That she’s a bad influence.”

I’m so aghast by this news, I hardly know what to do with myself. When my cell rings, I go into the kitchen in a daze. And lo and behold, it’s my ex-husband calling again.

This time, I’m taking his call.

I say coldly, “Hello, Nick. Hold on for just a moment, please. I need to go into the other room.”

Hearing her father’s name, Harlow panics. She makes a cutting motion across her throat, then puts her finger to her lips. I nod to let her know I understand. I won’t share what she just told me.

Of course I won’t, because I don’t want to give him any ammunition to use against her.

I go out into the backyard and close the sliding glass door behind me before getting back on the line. “What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me my daughter isn’t going to be exposed to that ridiculous child you’re sleeping with.”

He’s been drinking. I hear it in the tone of his voice, in the way he’s slurring his words. Considering it’s only seven-thirty in the evening, he must’ve been hitting the bottle pretty hard.

“So much paternal concern. What a nice change from your usual lack of interest.” My voice drips with sarcasm, which makes him go ballistic.

He screams, “Don’t you fucking disrespect me!”

“Or what? You’ll start screwing a teenager? Oops. Too late.”

He’s panting on the other end of the line like a barnyard animal. “I’ll take Harlow away from you. You’re unfit, and I’ll take her away.”

Burning rage ignites under the soles of my feet. It roars up my body in a wave of heat that sets my face on fire. Only my voice is unaffected. It remains stone cold.

“I can see why you’d want to. I’m sure you’d love having her around twenty-four hours a day. Making her meals, doing her laundry, helping with her homework, driving her everywhere she needs to go, buying her tampons, dealing with teenage mood swings. That sounds right up your alley.”

He snarls, “You think you’re so fucking smart.”

“Yes, I do. Because I am. Why are you calling?”

“I saw that article. Those pictures. You and that piece of shit pretty boy gallivanting all over town. You look pathetic.”

“Really? I thought I looked good in those pictures. Happy. You probably just didn’t recognize that because I never made those happy faces when I was with you. By the way, if I tell Carter you called me pathetic, you’ll have to move to another country. He’s very protective of me. He’s also eighteen years younger than you and built like a mountain, so if you’re getting any smart ideas about trying to push either one of us around, think twice. I’ve played very fair with you up to now, but I won’t put up with verbal abuse.”

I can practically hear him tearing out his hair in frustration that I’m keeping my cool while he’s having an epic tantrum. Then my phone beeps with an incoming call.

“Gotta go. My girlfriend is calling. Have a great weekend, Nick.”

I disconnect and answer Evelyn’s call. “Hi there.”

“Don’t you dare ‘hi there’ me. I just read an article about you and Carter McCord, and I cannot believe you were keeping this relationship from us.”

Apparently it’s a three-way call because Val pipes in, “Yeah!”

“You told us you had no intention of seeing him again!”

“Yeah!”

When I sigh, Ev says, “Sorry. Rewind. Perimenopause rage kicked in there for a sec. Are you okay, babe? Catch us up to date.”

Laughing softly, I look up into the twilight sky. “There’s too much to go over in a phone call. What are you two bozos doing tomorrow night?”

“I’ll have Brian watch the kids,” says Ev.

“And I’ll get a sitter,” says Val. “Where should we meet?”

“My place. But bring all the kids over here. Harlow’s back from Mexico early because…never mind. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Come over around six. And for the love of all that’s holy, bring wine.”

They agree, we say our goodbyes, and I go back inside to watch basketball with Harlow. My thoughts, however, are with Carter.

The countdown to midnight begins.