“Above market value,” I amended.
“That’s more like it. Though I’m not the one you really have to convince. My granddaughter is a tough cookie. She doesn’t take lightly to being treated like garbage.”
“I have a plan,” I assured Dottie, feeling much lighter.
Before I started the drive back into town, I sent Avery a text.
Blade:I have a proposal…
70
Avery
One of the wannabe Instagram influencers who rented one of the other small bedrooms in the apartment banged on my bedroom door the next morning.
“You got a package,” she said when I opened it. She snapped her gum and handed me a long, flat box.
“Was I drunk shopping online?” I wondered as I opened the box. I felt a rush of sadness when I saw what was inside.
“My reception dress,” I said, taking it out of the box. Even in the dingy apartment, it was beautiful. Away from the mean comments of my family, the stress of marinating in a lie, and the impending deadline of an out-of-control wedding, I realized that the dress was exactly my style. I put it on and admired it in the small mirror on the wall. I wished Blade had been able to see me in it. I had a feeling he would have really liked it.
He always said you looked beautiful in everything.
“Screw it. This is a brand-new me!” I was going to wear my wedding dress out. I wasn’t letting it sit in a box for the rest of my life. “The same goes for you,” I said to the antique watch. “We are going to live!”
I picked up my phone to text my friends. I really should have been trying to look for a job or at the very least selling the watch that I didn’t want to part with, but I just wanted to go out for pizza and a fresh start.
“A white pizza,” I assured myself. “You can’t ruin the dress, because you cannot afford the dry-cleaning bill.”
A text came in, interrupting my typing.
Blade:I have a proposal for you.
I gulped in a breath. Should I answer? Should I ignore it?
Blade:If you come to the Broughton estate today at 3, we can discuss the specifics.
My heart raced. What was he doing? I looked down at the watch.
“He’s making a deal, that’s what he’s doing,” I said, the realization of what was happening sinking in. Maybe Edward was right. Blade was a billionaire. He was always going to look out for himself.
If he was going to trade me the house for the watch, so be it. I knew its worth. I knew the house’s worth. There should be a hefty amount of cash included in the deal. I packed up my purse, put on some makeup, then headed for the train station. If this was going to be the event that forced me to acknowledge that Blade had never loved me like I loved him, at least I was going to get a house out of the whole shit show.
* * *
Blade was waitingat the estate house when the Uber dropped me off in the roundabout. It was much smaller than the Svensson estate, and not in as good condition, but the large brick mansion was still beautiful. It was like a stately noblewoman who was a little down on her luck but still held her head high.
“Avery,” Blade said formally when I stepped out of the car.
“Blade.”
He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something then shut it and abruptly turned to stride into the house. I followed him to the living room. It smelled dusty, and the furniture was draped in white covers. Blade paused by a table. There were documents laid out neatly beside two fountain pens.
“I own this house now,” Blade informed me, “and all the land it sits on.”
“I thought you might,” I replied, power-posing opposite him at the table. “I had the watch appraised at Christie’s. They said they think it could fetch thirteen million.”
“I thought you would,” Blade said. He worked his jaw.
