Kandace blows out a breath, groaning. “Oh no, is he stingy? Is that why you didn’t tell me how rich he is?”
“No,” I say a little too defensively.
“Don’t be embarrassed if he is. It’s not your fault. Not all rich guys are generous with what they have. The bastards. I mean, you’re having his baby, the least he could do is?—”
“He’s been generous, Kandace,” I cut her off but neglect to tell her how he basically threatened to uproot my life and whisk me to Monaco to put me and the baby up.
Not to mention that many other ways he’s used his money to damn near take over my life in the past two weeks.
“Besides, I know enough about him and his life,” I says, more to assure myself than her.
“Are you sure he’s not a bum and you’re not telling me about it?” she asks suspiciously.
I snort-laugh unintentionally. “If paying my rent for the next two months is him being ungenerous than, yeah, he’s been that.”
“Truthfully?”
“I went to pay rent the other day and got notification that it’s been taken care of. Both Gina’s and my portion by the way. When I called and asked, he said it was the least he could do.”
“How did you respond?”
“I hung up on him,” I admit, half-ashamed, half-still annoyed by his overreach. “The man is insistent on paying for my life.”
While I know it’s not something I should complain about, given how many women would love to be in my position, to have all of their financial woes taken care of, I find myself annoyed, even if a little grateful.
It’s hard to explain to others that the part of my life that I pride myself on the most, feels like he’s trying to take away or at least chip away at.
Which is why today’s job interview is especially important to me.
“Anyway, he left a couple of days ago.” I hesitate. “The first race of his season is coming up.”
She makes a sound at the back of her throat. “How are you doing with that?”
“The distance is far, but he did text me when he arrived in Australia.”
“I’m not talking about the distance.” Kandace pauses before asking, “Have you talked to him about what happened to you?”
My grip tightens on the phone.
“He knows my parents are gone,” I say.
“Does he know how they died?”
“For what? It’s not like he’ll quit his job and become an office worker or something like that.”
“But if he knows that you were in a car accident that killed you parents and?—”
“It wasn’t just a car accident,” I remind her. “My life was ruined by a couple of clowns who thought they could play Fast & Furious on the streets ordinary people use to get to and from work, and take their kids to school, and drive home from their family date nights.”
Family date night. That’s what my dad had called our family outing every Wednesday night. He’d implemented the tradition for our family of three when I turned seven. No matter what, every Wednesday it had been just the three us going out to a museum, a play, an exhibit, or even a picnic in the park.
I had no idea that one random Wednesday night when I was fourteen would be the end of it all.
A shiver runs through me, and I to blink to force the tears away.
“Formula 1 isn’t the same as what happened to your family,” Kandace explains.
“I have an interview I need to prepare for. Can you help me with these questions, please?”
