Sugar Pie by Victoria Pinder
45
Kerry
The bank account numbers had floored me, as did the fact that his last name was Norouzi and not Tate. My mind raced—I should have known the name, but nothing came to mind. I knew he’d made money on the stock market, but Warren would never have to work again.
My heart swelled because Warren was wonderful, and his woodsy smell sent me into overdrive. As long as he loved me, nothing else mattered.
Plus, if we were successful with our subdivision plan, then I could stand on my own two feet too. His offer of half the company replayed in my head. While I would never have the amount of money he had, I would be fine.
I wasn’t weak and didn’t need to be sold off or get another husband. I could show my mom that I didn’t need a man to be successful.
Once we were done at the office, the limo drove us to the land, and we did a final walk-through.
Soon, the place would be filled with houses surrounding the lake. We scanned the horizon. I pictured streets with dead ends and children on bicycles where we stood. The homes would be laid out in circles, with small dead-end streets going away from the lake and ending in cul-de-sacs. They would be the best homes anyone might find in the area.
Confidence filled my soul. We would sell out. The market for high-end housing was untapped in the area.
I kissed his cheek.
He hugged me. Part of me wanted to drag him down into the dirt, but honestly, I preferred bed. And as I bounced on my feet, excitement filled my chest. That night, we would celebrate in his New York apartment, and I couldn’t wait.
We held hands and walked across the field to the street where we’d parked. For a few minutes, the sky was blue, and the world was perfect.
As we made it closer to the street, I spotted a small crowd near the limo, surrounding a camera and bright lights.
I covered my eyes and assumed for a minute that there must have been some accident on the street. “I made a spreadsheet and timeline while the documents were being prepared about when we can have the spec house done.”
He focused on the group too. “Sounds good.”
Neither one of us said much else, and I noticed that he’d thinned his lips. He placed his hand on my back as if he would protect me as I asked, “Who is that?”
His grip tightened around my waist. “Run and get in the limo.”
My heart raced as I did, but I slowed a few feet later when faces became clear. I walked, and Warren slowed to stay with me. I pointed. “Wait. Romeo’s with the group.”
Warren gently nudged my arm. “It’s better if we go now.”
My heart pounded. My ex should not have been there, so I stopped. He was my problem, not Warren’s. I didn’t blink and met his gaze directly, which had been rare when we were married. Then I put my hand on my hip and asked, “Romeo, who are these people?”
He pointed to a woman in a business suit behind him. “I had you declared mentally unfit to make your own decisions, Kerry, and I brought your guardian ad litem to meet you.”
“You don’t have the power!” Warren shouted.
My stomach twisted as I imagined the two people with the van being there to take me to a mental ward. I hoped Warren was right. I hadn’t thought that Romeo would so easily agree, but I did think that the money and my lawyer might have been enough.
I should have known he would show up, but I refused to tremble as I said as plainly as I could, “We’re divorced. It’s been filed and finalized. Just because I don’t want anything from you doesn’t mean I’m unfit. I’m doing fine on my own.”
Two of the people in the group backed up.
Warren held my waist and said, “Call your lawyer, Kerry, and get in the limo, now.”
I walked with him to his limo. As he opened my door, I said to the woman in the suit, “Falling in love with someone other than my ex doesn’t make me crazy. If you’re from the court, you should know that.”
The woman with dark hair in front of the camera held her phone camera in my face. “Wait. Did you say you’re in love with Warren Norouzi?”
“Yes.” I didn’t blink. I’d read his name.
Warren pushed in beside me then closed the door. “Get the cameras out of her face.”
My gut twisted. There was more to the story. I took Warren’s hand and asked, “What’s going on?”
Outside, the dark-haired woman with the phone camera clearly said as we drove off, “We found Warren Norouzi, son of the first tech trillionaire.”
Trillion.My ears buzzed as we peeled out and sped away. My mind raced. “Warren?”
“I’ll explain later.” He texted on the phone.
Our relationship flashed before my eyes. My stomach tightened as I realized that I’d thought he was my equal or even lower than me because he worked with his hands. But his money meant he was even more well-off than my parents or Romeo.
I was a fool. He loved me? He was the guy my mother would have wanted for me, and I wanted to be free of her opinions. My entire body heated as we headed to a country road that eventually led to a highway.
I would not cry. I was frozen. I hadn’t broken free from anything. I’d jumped out of Romeo’s home and into Warren’s arms.
The truth was that I’d accomplished nothing. When we were absolutely alone, approaching the plane, I asked, “Was that true?”
Warren nodded. His face was red. I massaged the back of my head to remind myself I’d be okay. Money was money.
It felt like he had lied, though. And if he lied, then everything else could have been a lie. He stared at the road and said, “First, call Jeff. Your ex clearly wanted to have you committed, though that was never presented in court.”
The ice on my skin wormed its way toward my heart. “Okay, but the conversation isn’t over.”
“Fair enough.” He glanced at me.
For one second, the gleam in his eyes burned through to my soul, but I turned and faced the window. I hadn’t always been a fool.
As the plane took off, I dialed his brother. “Jeff, my ex just showed up and said he had me declared mentally unfit. There was a van. I think he wanted to have me committed.”
“I’ll file immediately on your behalf to attest to your state of mind. The divorce decree should absolve you, but for now, do not go to Connecticut until this is cleared.”
I would never again go near Romeo’s house. I saw the clouds underneath us as we took off. “We’re heading to New York now.”
“Warren’s home in Manhattan is state of the art. I’ll need twenty-four hours to ensure all three states understand that you are mentally sound. Just stay put, and I’ll straighten this out as soon as possible.”
Go to Warren’s home.I’d seen the money he had, and a voice in my head reminded me that rich people don’t get treated the same as the rest of us.
Last time I was angry in a car, I’d jumped out at a gas station and walked away.
But I wasn’t ready to do that with Warren. For once, I’d felt excitement in my chest and had said I loved him. It had been true.
This time, my sit and do nothing lasted only a day, not a lifetime, but I would handle it. I closed my eyes and imagined what I would do next. “Fair enough.”
He gave me a few directions, including signing documents and being on my phone when needed.
Then we hung up, and my skin buzzed.
“What did he say?” Warren asked.
I swallowed and realized we needed to talk, though my ears burned with emotion. I lifted my chin. “He said to stay in your place in Manhattan for a day.”
He nodded. “We can do that.”
I pivoted so that I wasn’t facing him anymore.
Soon, we were descending into the big city. I had never stayed in Manhattan for long, so this was no different.
My heartbeat slowed to normal after some deep breaths, and I switched positions so I could see Warren as we landed. I crossed my arms as I said, “You’re a trillionaire. The bank account you showed to the accountant wasn’t that much, which meant you were hiding.”
“No. That account was just what I earned myself. I wasn’t hiding my inheritance. My adopted parents were immigrants, and my father made money on Wall Street that he invested into tech-company ownership. I left because I wanted to prove myself worthy, and I planned on telling you tonight.”
Every liar’s attitude is to tell the truth only after being caught.I didn’t even blink as I said, “You had every second of every day for weeks now.”
He flinched as if I’d hit him, though words weren’t weapons I wielded. He kept his voice low, almost inviting me into a secret as he said, “I should have trusted you.”
But he didn’t. We weren’t real. We never were. Or maybe we were, and I was wrong. As we deplaned, I shrugged and said, “Look, if I could take a few days to myself, I would. I don’t want to talk for the rest of this trip.” I looked away from him.
His voice cracked as he said, “I’m sorry.”
The sound broke through me and reverberated in my heart. I wished I believed him, but the moon started coming up, and darkness took over the sky.
Tears formed in my eyes as I wondered if I’d overreacted. But I kept my lips sealed and soon realized we were heading toward Central Park.
On my few trips to New York, I’d always enjoyed a stroll in the park, but he pulled into a West End high-rise then tossed the keys to the valet.
We stepped out, and I realized I didn’t have my backpack. My stuff was still in Greenville, but I walked beside him as we went through a white marble lobby and into a smaller elevator.
My arm brushed against Warren, and my body lit up, but I refused to bend. He was no better than Romeo, and it was best that I’d found out sooner rather than later. At least I wasn’t married to him.
The doors opened to the top floor, and he led me into his penthouse apartment. I stepped through and glanced around. It was four times the size of the apartment we’d been sharing. The floors were shiny hardwood, not linoleum squares.
He closed the door behind us. “This is it.”
I walked into an open-concept great room that overlooked a white galley kitchen that a chef might envy. I stayed still, though. “I’m ready to hear you now.”
He blinked, and when he stood closer to me, my heart pounded, and my lips tingled for a kiss.
“You are?”
I stiffened and refused to let myself mention or signal how tempted I was or how my body ached for his touch.
With my ex, I’d never longed. But with Warren, I had wishes that needed to disappear as my knees melted. I swallowed and let my shoulders slump. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were richer than anyone I’d ever met? Why did we live in that small place when you have all this at your disposal?”
“I have more than an apartment at my disposal. All my life, I’ve been able to have anything I ever wanted, ever. I want to go to the beach in the Caribbean, go see whales off Antarctica, go on safari… anything you can think of, I can go do and be done in less time that it took us to put together a business plan.”
Tears formed in my eyes. I wiped my face. It wasn’t how I ever thought we would be. “Why were you there? Be honest this time.”
“I was there to prove that I’m capable on my own of earning money and I’m not just an heir to a fortune. Then I met you.”
I’d thought I was on track to show I was capable of taking care of myself, but I’d landed in an even nicer ivory tower than the one I’d left. “All my life, I’ve been told to seek safety and comfort over my own happiness. I thought building that business with you was my lifesaver and that I was capable of being on my own.”
“You are.”
“No.” I backed away from him and headed toward a door. For all I knew, it was a closet or a bathroom, but I opened it behind me and saw that it was a bedroom. “With Romeo, I was a bored housewife. You thought it was okay to lie to me because I’m not really your equal. Tomorrow, I should head home to my parents in Florida, but I’m trying to figure out what I actually want.”
He started walking toward me. “I hope you can forgive me. You said you loved me.”
My entire body steamed. Earlier, I’d wanted to lose myself in his arms, and I couldn’t lie to myself. I still wanted that, but I clung to the doorknob and kept my head down. “That was all an illusion. Is this my bedroom?”
“It can be.”
I stepped over the threshold and held my head high. I met his gaze and for a moment wished I could just forget everything and invite him in. But I said, “Then goodnight.”
The second I closed the door, I started to cry. I walked toward the en suite so he wouldn’t hear me. Maybe my mom was right, and I was a fool who’d wanted to be something more than she was. If she had known I was there with Warren Norouzi, she would insist that I marry him. Her words echoed in my mind, and I heard her so clearly: “A step up the social ladder with money is always preferable to falling down the ladder. Not having money is a fate you need to avoid.”
I turned on the shower and wished I’d been right about Warren and my business. I never wanted to prove my mother correct, but if I walked away, I would leave my heart behind.
I had no idea what to do next.
