Grumpalicious by Mia Faye

Chapter 8

CAYDEN

She was going to be a lot tougher to break than I thought.

I watched her from the restaurant window as she hailed a cab. It took her a while, but she got one. I then left the restaurant and went home. There I called Kevin to see if she had checked out of her hotel and she had. There was no way I was going to lose Genni, but I needed to give her some breathing room. Her running from me only made me want her more. I was so angry, sad, and frustrated that I told him to hire someone to follow her. Kevin had worked with me from the beginning, and I could trust him to do anything, even if it was a little shady. He had a man booked on her flight in minutes.

I knew her address in Texas and my man would keep an eye on Genni’s house for me. In the wee hours of the morning, he set up cameras in the trees, at the mailbox, and around her property. He connected those cameras to an app on my phone and with just the touch of the screen, I could see her coming and going from the house. Yes, I was stalking her. I wasn’t above it, not one single bit. But I told myself I was not hurtfully stalking her. I had no plans to do anything bad to her. I was fully prepared to allow her the boundaries she’d set, at least for a while. No, I was just kindly stalking her to make sure she didn’t bolt to somewhere I couldn’t find her. This is what I told myself. Admittedly the camera surveillance was probably not the best idea on my part, because I found myself borderline obsessed with Genni’s comings and goings.

It was nice to see her sit outside with her friend on the porch drinking iced tea. Her face was puffy and looked like she’d been crying, and I felt bad. But I was still determined to offer a fake marriage. Maybe five million wasn’t enough, I planned to double it. Ten million, seriously, that was a lot of money. The more I watched her the worse I felt. It got to a point though, that I couldn’t just watch her.

Her first day home, she was silent, the following day she sent a text:

This is all just over my head. I’m not a fake marriage kind of woman. I can’t lie. I’d be a shit fake wife. Sorry. I was really starting to enjoy hanging out with you. Good luck with everything and thanks for the chance. Best wishes, Genni.

I sat on the email for a minute. It was a goodbye, but I had no intention of letting her go. At the very least, I’d sign her to my label. Joe did ask about her the following day and I told him that she had a family emergency back home but would return soon.

“Damn, what did you do to her?” He gave me one of his scornful looks.

“Actually, nothing. Not a damn thing, really.” I mean I did but I didn’t.

“You lose signing her and you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” He was good at threatening me because I trusted him.

“Nothing has happened, she just had to go home for a minute,” I pleaded my case.

“Humph,” was all I got from him.

I didn’t text her back right away because I wanted her to think about me. I needed to take up real estate in her brain. So, I sat on my response. I watched the surveillance footage, which was mostly of her getting her mail, and realized I needed more. I couldn’t just sit around watching her. On a whim, I booked a ticket to Houston and got a hotel room near her house. I had my guy remove all of the cameras and I dismissed him. I was going to do this all myself. Kevin thought I was crazy, and I didn’t refute his concerns, it was insane.

“She’s a nice woman, Cash. Leave her alone,” he had the balls to say.

“I still have three episodes to film with Allie. I could have them film me just ignoring that viperous bitch, or I can show me, moving on. I’d rather the latter. Genni has the potential to be something amazing. I’m not passing this up and as my potential business partner, you don’t want me to pass this up.”

“As your friend, I’m just warning you. Don’t blow it.” He gave me a kindly smile, but I felt the disappointment in it.

He wasn’t wrong.

“I can do this,” I assured him. “I can definitely win the girl.”

“You always win the girl, but think about her, does she deserve what you’re going to do to her?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“I’ve never met the right girl. Genni, she has the potential to be something more and so maybe I can try and be better...for her.”

“Let’s hope so, for both of your sakes.”

And so he let me go.

I traveled to Huston and texted her from the hotel two days after she’d sent her text to me.

We need to talk.

That’s all I gave her. I waited for her to respond.

I don’t know what to say.

I texted her back immediately.

Say you will meet me outside in twenty minutes.

It was risky letting her know I was there, but I was a relentless kind of guy.

You’re in Houston?

I could just feel her nerves elevate.

I am.

And then there was nothing. I almost regretted having the cameras removed, but instead of dwelling on it, I simply drove to her house and parked in her driveway. She eventually came out.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. She didn’t seem angry, just shocked.

“You didn’t give me a chance to explain.” I got out of my car and leaned on the driver’s side door.

“And so, you came all the way out here?” The look of confusion on her face was priceless.

“You are worth the trip. Can I come inside so we can discuss this? I’m on your turf here, you hold all the cards.” I put my hands up in the air as if I was surrendering.

“What is there to discuss?”

“Let me inside and I’ll tell you.”

“My roommate Peyton is here, and she’s not interested in dating you either, so don’t ask!”

Ooh, I loved her.

“Consider me warned,” is all I said as I followed her into the house.

The house was a nice old-fashioned farm-style place, but they had very modern and eclectic furnishings and tastes. I liked both of the women already. I could see in the corner, where the kitchen was situated, a tall woman wearing a pair of short shorts and a crop top cutting something on a chopping board and I fully understood why Genni didn’t want me honing in her roommate because like Genni she was absolutely gorgeous. But, lucky for my girl, she wasn’t my type with her long dark hair and tall leggy physique. I liked that Genni had some curves and red hair. More, I liked Genni and wasn’t looking for another woman no matter how beautiful they were.

“Have a seat.” She nodded to an electric blue armchair. “You wanna Coke or something? We’ve got Coke, Sprite, and iced tea in the fridge.”

“I’ll take an iced tea.” It sounded like that would hit the spot, it was hot enough outside for it.

“Okay.” Genni went into the kitchen and said, loud enough for me to hear, “He’s leaving soon.”

“Hi.” Her roommate waved from the kitchen and as awkward as it was, I waved back, holding my dominant male persona together, just enough.

When Genni came out with our tea, her roommate plated whatever she was making and disappeared.

“So?” Genni sat back in the opposite chair which was a shocking yellow.

The furniture looked new as the fabric was crisp, clean, and hardly used. On the walls were paintings in complementary colors which made me think either Genni or her roommate had painted them.

“So? Who is the artist in the family?” I asked as a buffer.

“Peyton,” was Genni’s flat answer.

“She’s really good. I must ask her how much she charges. I’d love a few of these in the office,” I said it mostly to ingratiate myself with Genni, but truthfully the paintings were very exotic and thought-provoking.

They were naked people painted with thick brush strokes and minimal lines. While the bodies weren’t really doing anything erotic, one would never know as there was so little to them, which left much to the imagination. The colors were bold and distracting, but upon a closer glance, there were nuances, a bit of an eye, the slope of a shoulder, the arch of a back. And then definitely one could see the figures making love, or dancing, or sitting and having tea. I loved them.

“I’ll send you a link to her website after you leave,” Genni said in a monotone.

“Why so prickly, my love? I haven’t hurt you.” I was getting annoyed at her tone and the emotional distance she was wedging between us.

“No, but you will.”

Yes, I had my damn reputation, one I had earned honestly, to contend with.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Buying your very talented roommate’s works of art is hardly hurtful. So, let’s get right into this. I’m not asking you to marry me for money. I’m asking you to “date” me.” I actually used air quotes. “For money.”

“I don’t do “anything” for money,” she air quoted back.

“Well, that’s stupid. How are you ever planning on making a living?” I was teasing, it felt good.

“You know what I mean.” She glared.

“What will it take?” I was that desperate, so I lobbed the ball onto her court.

“Why can’t you just find someone else and let me focus on my music? If I date you, It looks like that’s the reason you’re signing me. It takes away from my credibility as a musician and plants me where women have been for decades...sleeping with men to get to the top. I just don’t want any part of that.” Her expression fell and I heard what she was saying.

While it was the norm in the circles I kept, I could see why she didn’t want to use her influence as a woman to work her way up to the top. It was admirable, as all things were about her.

“Well, I’d just have to know you were going to go the distance with me, the world doesn’t have to discover it just yet. I was figuring we could find an agreeable sum that would set you up for life if you spent and invested it wisely. We can map out a timeline that allows you a chance to get your music out there before our relationship.” It all seemed pretty cut and dried to me.

“And what if I legitimately find someone in the meantime? How long are we really talking? A year is stupid, it will do nothing for your reputation, especially because you’re giving me time to establish myself. Thank you for that, by the way, and two years is probably as long as I’m willing to give you, but two years isn’t a relationship really. Anything beyond two years and we’re cutting into the time when I might really want to find someone to love.”

Fuck...why was she being so...real about this?

“Three years then? Are three years too long to be in a fake relationship with a big ol’ hunk of money in the bank account? And I’m thirty-six, so there’s a nice healthy age spread between us. In three years, you’ll only be…”

“You’re thirty-six. In three years, you’ll be almost forty and I’ll be twenty-five. I don’t think you want a family or a real relationship, but I do want both. If I start looking for Mr. Right at twenty-five that leaves almost no time to enjoy my husband before we’re parents…”

Oh my God, my head was spinning.

“Woah, okay. Who said anything about kids? You know your career is going to take some time to establish, you’d be waiting a while for the kiddos with or without me. And on a side note, how many children are we talking about?” I felt nauseous even asking.

“At least three or four.” She smiled broadly knowing she had me by the balls there as I already had one child I never saw, and he was going to be my one and only.

“Three or four is definitely a deal-breaker.” I knew she didn’t mean for me to see it, but her bright smiling expression wiped clean off her face when I said that.