Page 102 of Game Change

“I don’t have the money for that, and neither does he, but you do. You can ask your rich boyfriend.” I throw my hands in the air in frustration.

“You didn’t hear a word I said.” I want to tell her that if she had shown any interest in her son when he was growing up, maybe he would have turned out better, but that wouldn’t do any good. She won’t accept any accountability. The fact that she’s calling and asking me to help is the most she’s ever done for him.

“I’m sorry, Brynne. I’m sorry he broke into your house and disturbed your mom’s resting place. She was a lovely woman, but he’s my son, and I don’t want him to get locked up. I promise to talk to him. He’ll apologize and pay—”

“Listen, it’s out of my hands. It’s up to the courts now. I have to go, and please don’t call me anymore.”

I end the call and block her number, but I don’t feel good about it. All I wanted was to get the house back in my family, but some of that excitement has dimmed from the drama Oliver has caused. Maybe I was naïve, but I never could have predicted that buying a house could cause so much conflict with someone that I no longer consider family.

I shove those thoughts away.

What I said to Vanna was right. It’s out of my hands and up to the justice system. However they decide to deal with Oliver, I’ll accept it. My only condition will be that he never contacts or comes near me again.

While Colin is gone, I decide to set the table. I dim the lights and light candles. By the time he returns, there’s soft music playing in the background, and I’ve poured wine.

Chapter 52

Colin

When my private detective located Oliver, I was on a business trip. Instead of confronting him before, I told him to notify the police and have him arrested, denying me the chance to confront him alone. He was bailed out immediately, and there has been no contact. Days later, Brynne and I got on the Kincaid private plane and flew to Istanbul.

My last time here was on a family vacation when I graduated high school. I came here for the same reason as Brynne. I knew I would follow in my Uncle Milton’s footsteps and wanted to see the architecture and visit the museums.

On our days there, we did the same, including visits to the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia. When she suggested a walking tour, I reminded her that she had to leave the stilettos alone for a day and handed her a pair of Crocs. She didn’t wear them but put on a pair of ballet flats I got for her when she sprained her ankle. We spent that day walking arm in arm like two lovers, acting silly, and taking pictures.

Her favorite was the time we spent at the Arastar Bazaar. I hired a personal guide for the first few hours, and we spent the rest buying souvenirs to bring back home. I surprised her that night. She thought we were going home the next day, but I planned a special trip back to the place where we met.

“I can’t believe we’re back here,” she says on our last night on the island.

I managed to get the same house I had when I was there, and despite not having the biggest bedroom, we chose to spend our nights there, back in the bed where we first made love.

“I think I fell in love with you in my first five minutes here,” I say over the romantic dinner I planned by our private pool.

“When you flexed your pecs at me,” she says with a smile.

“Before then. From the moment I saw you.” I wink at her, and she giggles. I love seeing her this way. She’s not stressed about Oliver or the condo. She got an offer on our second day in Istanbul, and it’s officially under contract now.

“I wish I didn’t spend all those weeks being mad at you,” she says.

“Yeah, me too.”

She giggles again. “I’m meant to be my own boss.” She picks up her champagne flute. “To girl bosses around the world.”

I pick up my flute, and we clink, but she doesn’t know I’ve figured out a way to give her what she wants without leaving Kincaid. “To you and to us being back at the place where it all started.”

“And to this dinner. Where’s the food?” she asks as she looks around, but dinner won’t be for another few minutes. There’s one thing I need to do first.

I stand and say, “Hmm. I’ll go check on that, but first, there’s something I need to know.”

“You need to know you have three more minutes before I get hangry.” She picks up her champagne. “And drunk.”

Her glass stops halfway to her mouth when I drop to one knee. She slowly puts the flute down and looks at me with wide eyes.

“Yes!” she screams before I can utter a single word. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Hells yes.”

“I haven’t even asked the question yet, Honeybee.” I run a hand through my hair and let out a big belly laugh. She holds her breath and waits while her eyes get wider with each passing second. “I had a big speech, but now I can’t remember a word, so I’ll speak from the heart.” I take a deep breath before I continue. “From this moment on, you’ll never be alone again. I want you to be my wife, the mother of my children, and my family. Brynneka Barber, will you—”

“Yes!” she screams again. I pull the eight-carat solitaire from my pocket and slide it on her finger.

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