Riptide
I wantedthis Valentine’s Day to be special for Van, so I’ve been plotting and planning for weeks to ensure it will be. I know we’re scheduled to keep Elodie for Indiana and Zoey, but I’ve already taken care of hers and little man’s care for that day. Unsurprisingly, Icer stepped up and demanded to be their caretaker while I swoop Van off her feet and shoot her in the ass with Cupid’s arrow.
I’m in the back field with the contractor, going over the blueprints for the gazebo I’m having built specifically for that evening. I’m pleasantly surprised by the pattern he’s planning to have etched into the posts if I pick this model. “That’s pretty intricate. How much extra will that cost me if I pick this layout?”
Not that I give a shit about the added expense, Van deserves every penny I’ll spend. She’s worth every dime in my checking account and then some. You can’t put a price tag on making someone else happy and making their dreams come true.
“It’ll be an extra thousand dollars,” the contractor tells me.
“A grand?” I ask, sounding shocked even though I’m not. It’s actually a steal from what I’m seeing which makes me wonder why he’s estimating it to be so cheap. “Selling yourself short there, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying to recoup some money for a client. This is something sitting in my warehouse from a wedding gone awry. The groom skipped out with the maid of honor and left the bride holding the bill. She’s willing to take a fraction of the cost so she’s not out all of the money she spent,” he informs me.
“What a dick,” I mumble. “No man worth anything leaves a woman solely responsible when he’s the one who fucked up.” He grunts, but other than that, doesn’t add anything to my remark. “How much did she spend on this?”
“Five grand,” he replies.
I whistle. “That’s a big cut.”
“I tried to talk her out of it, I told her she could get more, but she wants it done and dusted,” he states.
“I’ll pay three,” I remark. “It’s the least I can do on behalf of mankind.”
“She comes from old money. She’s richer than the aristocrats, doubt she’ll bat an eye that you’re paying more than she requested. That’s nothing compared to what she did with everything else of his,” he says, amusement laced in his voice.
They say curiosity killed the cat, but seeing as they have nine lives and all, I can’t stop myself from asking, “What’d she do?”
“The dipshit had the gall to take his mistress on their honeymoon in her stead. What he hadn’t considered is that everything was booked in her name and she was the only onewho could cancel it. Which she did, but she only did it after their plane took off so he didn’t have the chance to grab any funds to keep them afloat. The stupid fuck didn’t have any money until he got with her and she cut off all of his credit cards and access to their bank accounts, so now, he’s stranded on the other side of the country without a pot to piss in.”
“Serves him right,” I huff out, laughing.
“That’s not all,” he chuckles. “She bought him a car as a wedding gift, one of them fancy, foreign, expensive ones and she sold it to a struggling single mother of three for a dollar. A whopping dollar! Then she took his studio and gifted it to a struggling artist that’d been working on the streets as a vendor to make ends meet. Says she’ll recover it during tax season.”
“She didn’t hold back, did she?” I ask. I bet he was livid thinking he’d live off of her and do what he wanted when he wanted. “They say love is blind, but that blindfold is ripped off when a woman has been scorned, especially when she holds the upper hand.”
“Ain’t that the damn truth,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t know what he thought she’d do, but somehow, I doubt it was what she did.”
“He thought he could continue to exploit her and her generosity,” I muse. “What an idiot. He had the wool pulled over his eyes.”
“And the rug ripped out from beneath his feet,” he adds.
“He did it to himself,” I tack on.
“That he did, Riptide. Now that you know all of the facts, are you sure you want to add to the bid?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s the right thing,” I contend. “I may not have the same monetary value as she does, but I’m not hurting for money either. This won’t break my bank.”
“Okay,” he says, nodding his head. “I’ll tell her that you are upping the ante and she can do with it as she pleases. I’ll be back in a couple of days and start the installation.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I state, reaching out and shaking his hand, sealing our deal.
“Who was that?” Icer asks as he comes strolling through the field with my boy settled in his sling over his chest and Elodie’s hand holding his.
“A contractor,” I inform him, reaching out and taking little man from him. “He’s working on a surprise for Van for me.”
“That’s a little ominous,” Icer grunts, looking at me like I’m a science experiment.
“That’s because there’s little ears around,” I counter. He peers down at Elodie who’s unabashedly tuned into our conversation and chuffs. Gotta give it to the girl, she could care less if she’s caught eavesdropping. “A surprise won’t stay a surprise if it’s spread amongst the clubhouse.” He nods his head but says nothing in response to my statement. Knowing that holding down a conversation isn’t his strong suit, I lead by asking, “What are y’all up to?”
