Page 37 of The Husband Contract
“I misplaced my wallet along with my cell phone.” He laughs. “It’s been a crazy couple of days.”
“Sergio, I can get you a ticket. Can you get to the airport? You need to get back.”
“I’m not coming back right now.”
“Sergio, you’re in a foreign country, you have no money, you’re calling me collect?—”
“I can take care of myself! I just need you to send the five hundred. I’m pretty sure I know where I left my phone and wallet, but I need cab money. Can you do this for me?”
“If you come home, we can take care of everything. Come back to work for the family business. You’ll have access to your trust fund?—”
“I don’t care about that!” he yells. “I just want to live my life and figure out what I want to dowithoutthe Laurence money. I want to be seen for me, not for what I have.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop myself from blowing a gasket.
“I just want to have fun. Do you not understand that, Sebastian? We’re not all you. We’re not all going to be the golden child, taking over the family business.”
“Sergio—”
“Maybe being broken up with was what I needed. Maybe this was the catalyst to push me into starting a new life. Maybe that’s what I needed.”
“Your life wasn’t that bad, Sergio.”
“Are you sending the money or not?”
“Give me the name of the hotel,” I say tightly. “Hold on, let me grab a pen and paper...” I’m furious. Absolutely furious. My brother is losing it. And all I want to do is fly to Thailand, grab him by the ear, and drag him home. But maybe this is what he needs. Maybe he’ll come home stronger. I just pray he’s not doing drugs or drinking himself into oblivion. This is a huge mess—and it’s allWillow’sfault.
She destroyed my brother. And whatever guilt I’d been feeling—it’s gone. Whatever misgivings or doubts I’d had—gone. Willow has caused my brother to spiral. And I am going to makeherand everyone who matters to her spiral into oblivion, as well.
Chapter Nine
Willow
“Mrs. Kubica, I am so glad that you and Spottyetta had a great walk this morning.” I lean down and pat the muddy dog on its head. She looks up at me with a hopeful expression, but I have no treats to give her.
“Oh, thank you, Willow. She just loves being up here in Whispering Haven. As do I. We both want to thank you for the dog treats; I can't tell you how spoiled you make us both feel.”
“It's my pleasure. We are so grateful for your support.”
“Of course, I will always come here. You and the girls are wonderful. Well… except for...” She wrinkles her nose. “You know who I’m talking about.” She sniffs and looks around like she’s scared somebody might be listening to our conversation.
I try not to laugh. Mrs. Kubica has only met Charlotte twice, but both times, my cousin was absolutely horrific to her and her “stinky dog,” as she’d called her.
“I think I do,” I say diplomatically. As much as I’d love to talk shit about Charlotte, it just wouldn’t be professional.
“Well,” Mrs. Kubica continues, “I think I'm going to go up to my room, have a long bath with some Epsom salts, and then maybe dinner could be delivered to me.”
“Sure. Did you already place an order?” I ask, looking through the notes on the desktop.
“I thought I would get some Italian from that place up the street—Pastatioria.”
“Oh, okay. Did you already call in the order?”
“I called them, dear, but they don’t deliver. So I was hoping…” She offers me a small smile as her voice trails off. I already know what she’s asking.
“Well, don’t worry. One of us will pick up the food for you. What time would you like to eat?”
“Oh, thank you, dear. Maybe 6:00 p.m.”
