"I know," I grumbled, but part of my heart was shattered by that admission. I stupidly clung to the hope that somehow Asher would know my heart changed the instant I met the real him. From the very instant I met him and saw how broken he was I'dwanted to help him, not hurt him. But none of that mattered, because Clayton was on his way to this bar right now to tell me off and demand his money back. I was in a hole that was only getting deeper every time I opened my mouth.
"Tell him." Regan's eyes shot up when the bell over the door chimed. "And tell him soon. He'll respect it more coming from you, and maybe for the rest of your life you won't have to fight every time he comes to pick that kid up for visitation." Her eyes narrowed and I followed where she was looking to see Clayton stalking toward me.
His eyes were glassy, hair mussed, and his tie was loose around his open shirt. He looked furious, fists clenched, jaw tight. And he was glaring at me.
"Don't leave," I squeaked, so Regan hovered by me.
"Porter, we need to talk."
"Yeah… I got your message that's why we're here, right? What do you want?" It wasn't that I didn’t want to speak with him. I did, very much. I wanted to plead with him to back off and give me space to discuss things with Asher on my own before he nuked his own brother's sobriety. But Clayton was a tool, the most arrogant man I'd ever met.
"Alone—" His eyes shot to Regan who scowled at him.
She turned to me and asked, "You okay?"
Though my chest was tight and my hands shook, I forced myself off the stool and nodded at her. "I'm okay…" I said to her, then turned to him. "Over here…" I led Clayton to the farthest booth from the bar where a few regulars had begun to trickle in.
I was here to be consoled by my best friend and ripped to shreds by a man who could blackmail me into doing whatever he wanted. Neither of those things were particularly public things, so the farther away from prying ears I could sit the better.
I sank into the booth while Clayton dawdled ordering a beer. He carried it to where I sat and plopped down, but by the time he did the beer was half gone already. I knew an explosion was coming when he ran a hand through his thinning hair and glared at me.
"So you're pregnant?" he asked, and his lips curled around that bottle while he slurped it.
I glanced up at Regan who stood eyeing us both, though Clayton had his back to her. She was removing the caps from two more beers while watching, the same brand as the one Clayton was currently drinking.
"I don't know what makes you say that," I responded as the corner of my lip worried itself between my teeth. Then my whole inner cheek was there between my teeth being chewed. I was a horrible liar.
"You saw the picture, Porter. I saw you throwing up during that staff lunch." He slammed his bottle down on the table and I jumped. "Don't lie to me. You slept with him, didn't you?"
My neck felt like someone was choking me because my pulse was so high. He had no proof of anything. I could've stood my ground and lied to him but tears welled up in my eyes so easily these days.
"I uh…."
"And you didn't do what I said? What do you think this is a fairy tale, Veda?" There was that word again, dragging more emotion from my chest and more tears to my eyes. "That I'm your fairy godfather who paid you to fall in love and start a family?" Clayton smacked the table with his open palm and huffed a huge sigh. The faint hint of beer rode on a harder stench of cigar smoke and whiskey.
"You're drunk," I cautioned because I was shaking at the idea that he might get violent. He proved he wasn't afraid of it when he grabbed my hair and neck that day.
"I'm not the topic of discussion." He leaned over the table menacingly while I shrank back and shuddered. He had me dead to rights and he knew it. "You are pregnant. Aren't you? And you have some ridiculous little hope that everything will work out fine."
The way he was talking to me was nothing short of abusive. I felt belittled and ashamed, and I felt trapped too. I wanted to get away from him. I knew what was coming—he would demand that I give back every cent of that money, which was impossible, or he would tell Asher everything.
I stood, ready to slip past him and leave, but Clayton stood too and he grabbed my arm hard. It shot pain up my arm into my shoulder and made it impossible to wiggle my fingers on that hand.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't feel comfortable with you. Please let go of my arm," I asked calmly, though there was nothing calm about me right now.
"You think screwing the golden boy of Locke Global will help your career? When everyone finds out I paid you to sleep with him your life is over. Not just your career…. You won’t be able to work in this city or this industry ever again. And poor little Asher will get so pissed at you, he never speaks to you again.
"Is that part of your scheme too? You being a single mom? Think about it, Veda. You were barely surviving before and what will you do now that you'll have all those bills and a baby to raise? Child care, diapers… And when I sue to get my money back." He chuckled darkly as more tears streamed down my cheeks.
"But you're wrong—" I started but he cut me off.
"Asher is a menace. Can't you see that?" he scoffed. "Maybe not… Maybe he snowed you in too, the way he did that whole board and especially Robert Lang. Well you'll see. You see what he's made of when I tell him what you've done, Veda."
Clayton jerked my arm hard and I whimpered. "Please let go of me," I pleaded. "You're hurting me. And you're wrong. Asher is a good man. His wife died and his little baby was?—"
"I'm so sick of hearing about that baby!" Clayton shouted so loudly I jumped again, but before he could do any worse, Regan was there.
