Page 103 of Now That It's You
“Preposterous?” Meg’s lawyer pounced, his eyes taking on a rabid gleam. “I can assure you the note is authentic, and furthermore, if you’ll refer to the case of Jones v. Jones referenced in your packet?—”
“You can’t honestly think that would hold up in court?” Albert stood up, his eyes blazing like he wanted to take a swing at the other lawyer. “A cocktail napkin? A note that was most likely written by someone in a state of intoxication? An implication of prostitution and?—”
“Even if you try to argue this isn’t a legally-binding contract, the fact remains that Mr. Midland, by penning this particular missive, was indicating a general irreverence for the project, and for my client. I don’t think I need to remind you that?—”
“Were the terms of the contract fulfilled?”
Kyle’s words hit Meg like a punch in the abdomen. Everyone stopped talking at once. Meg looked at Kyle and felt a surge of ice wash through her veins. He wasn’t avoiding her eyes now. He was staring at her, his gaze boring into her, drilling through her mind, her soul, her heart.
“I beg your pardon?” Franklin said, directing his attention to Kyle.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Kyle said, his eyes never leaving Meg’s. “I was speaking to Meg.”
“I—um—what?” Meg stammered. She tucked her hands between her knees to make them stop shaking.
“Were the terms of the contract fulfilled?” Kyle repeated, his gaze still locked with hers.
“This is ridiculous,” Sylvia sputtered. “It’s obvious Matt wasn’t in his right mind when he wrote that, and even if he were, that’s hardly the sort of evidence that would hold up. Twenty-five sloppy BJs? For the love of God, what kind of?—”
“Answer the question, Meg.” Kyle’s voice was hollow and felt like a stake driving into her chest. “Unless you want me to?”
The attorneys’ gazes swung back and forth between the two of them, realization dawning as they seemed to grasp that there was more going on here than legal wrangling.
Beside Kyle, his mother sputtered. “This is asinine. I want everyone to stop this line of discussion immediately. It’s disrespectful, crude, and entirely irrelevant to the case at hand.”
Kyle tore his gaze from Meg’s, and she felt the floor drop out from under her. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t really be throwing her under the bus like this.
“They’re the ones who took it to this level,” Kyle said, his voice eerily soft as he spoke to his mother. “If they’re going to make the claim that this is a legitimate contract, and these are the terms Matt supposedly set out, then I think we’re within our right to address whether the terms of the contract were fulfilled.”
He looked back at Meg, and she saw something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Remorse? Jealousy? Sadness? She couldn’t identify it, but she could identify the feeling in the pit of her own stomach.
Betrayal.
Not the first time she’d looked into a pair of gray-green eyes and felt a sinking sense that her whole life was about to unravel.
Every pair of eyes in the room had shifted to her, and Meg wondered if it was possible to pass out from sheer humiliation. She looked up at her attorney, who for the first time ever, seemed at a genuine loss for words. He shook his head. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“You’re right, she doesn’t,” Kyle said. “I’ll do it for her.”
Chapter 18
Kyle had never hated himself more than he had in that moment.
That’s not true, his subconscious reminded him. And right now you’re making up for the one time you hated yourself more than this.
He looked at Meg, wishing he could hit rewind on this entire conversation and do things differently. But if he had the option to rewind, there was a different moment in time he’d choose to erase. Would any of them be sitting here right now if it weren’t for that?
“Meg,” he said softly, not sure what he planned to say next. I’m sorry? I had to do it? Don’t hate me?
But his brain flashed to an image of Matt in a hospital bed two years ago, his face drawn and pale and wracked with guilt. Kyle could picture it in his head like it was yesterday, the doctors murmuring about depression and suicide risk while Matt gripped Kyle’s arm with alarming force. “Swear to me you won’t tell anyone,” Matt had hissed. “Not a soul.”
And Kyle hadn’t. Not ever.
Now, Meg stared at him, her expression somewhere between shock and hurt. He watched her throat move as she swallowed, and he wanted to jump from his seat and tell her she didn’t have to answer. That it was no one’s business how many blowjobs she’d given his brother. That he’d give anything not to know.
But he did know.
And so did she.
