Page 78 of Stick to the Deal
“I haven’t heard from my grandmother either. For all I know, I’ll be cut off, too. What will we do then?” A traitorous tear trickles down my cheek.
He catches it with his thumb. “Then we’ll dive into the lake together. I’ll sell my London flat for a tidy profit. Even if we never see another penny from your trust fund and we have to scrimp and save for the rest of our lives, I’ll always choose you.” He kisses me, telling me without words the depths of his feelings.
I return the embrace, pouring into it everything in my heart.
When we break apart, slightly panting, Reginald lowers his forehead to mine. “Between your photos and my magazine, I’m absolutely not worried.”
Laughing, I push him back down against the pillows, laying across his chest. When he rolls me under him and makes love to me again, I think life is perfect.
Well, almost.
July
It may be true that there’s corruption and greed within the Bancroft family, but it certainly did not stem from a certain gentleman I maligned most unjustly. In the wake of the #Reginettegate scandal I broke, Lord and Lady Ravenscourt have shown a unified front from their NYC home. Meanwhile, a flurry of confusing press releases have come flying from Silverbrook Hall. It sounds as if the Honorable Montague Bancroft is being pumped up as the next in line. Silly Earl Silverbrook, maybe you should google The Peerage Act of 1963–when you’re done destroying your family holdings, that is.
Lord R’s editorial humbled me.
Iwasn’t always this jaded, cynical observer of humankind—once I dreamed of becoming a real-life Lois Lane. Years of watching society’s “best” do the absolute “worst” with no consequences; seeing the world around me reward bad behavior time and again, takes its toll. I told myself I was exposing corruption, holding the glittering masses accountable when no one else would, but I see now that I’ve become the very thing I despise. To my victims, I wholeheartedly apologize. I know these words cannot undo the damage, but I will strive to atone for my sins another way.
This will be my last column, readers. I can no longer be part of the problem.
Goodbye,
Wendy
Chapter 40
Truth Rings Out
My legs burn as I race up the steps of our townhouse and burst through the front door. “Ren,” I call out, “have you seen this?”
“Seen what?” He meets me outside his office, his eyes scanning me.
I hold up my phone. “Whisper Wire is done. She’s shutting down her website.”
He squints at my screen for a moment, then turns and marches to his desk. His fingers fly over the keyboard as he scans one article and then another. “It’s true.” Turning in his chair, he grabs my hand and tugs me between his knees. “If I accomplish nothing else with Elysium—we go belly-up in a year—it will still be worth it for this.”
He pulls me closer, arms banded around my thighs. A triumphant smile splits his handsome face. Every time I see that smile, my heart gives a little flip, knowing I’m the only one who sees it.
My phone rings on the desk and I answer without looking at the name, still grinning at my husband. “Hello.” The other end is silence, followed by a ragged intake of air. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Letty…” That one word sends me on alert. Only one person calls me that anymore, and a call from Gloria, especially with that emotion in her voice, means something catastrophic.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” A pit opens in my stomach, terrified of her next words.
“It’s Ms. Vivienne.” Her voice breaks. “They rushed her off to the hospital.”
“Which hospital?” Reginald’s head shoots up and his eyes meet mine. The support and concern ground me all while I feel like the floor is dissolving underneath me.
“King Edward’s in London. I don’t know what’s going on, though. They said I’m not family.” The older woman’s words are barely audible through her tears.
I stumble. “What happened?”
Reginald guides me into his chair, his hands not leaving my shoulder. A travel site is already on his computer searching for flights.
“When I brought up Ms. Vivienne’s dinner tray, she seemed asleep. I tried to wake her but she wouldn’t respond, so I had to call.”
Grandmama never eats in her room. Why did she need a tray? “What did the responders say?” A vice tightens around my chest. I don’t understand what is happening.
