Page 71 of My Ex-Fiance's Best Men
Penny gives me a sour smile. “You did know better. You were just overwhelmed by everything else going on in your life right now. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
Still, I feel awful.
Theo tried to explain. Dominic and August tried to talk to me, too, but I pushed them all away because I got scared. I got scared thinking about what our relationship could cost me in the long run. My trust fund, my company shares, my family, my so-called reputation as a Baldwin. But none of that matters if I don’t have Theo, Dominic, and August in my life.
None of it.
“By the way, we also figured out who sent you those threatening text messages, including the one before you boarded your flight to Hawaii,” Penny says, pulling me out of my self-loathing session.
“You did?”
“The ‘this isn’t over’ message. It was Georgina.”
No.My jaw drops. I stare at Penny, then at Georgina, who’s still busy charming her Dubai prince. I’m tempted to walk over there and give her a piece of my mind.
“Yes. It’s connected to a social media account she’s been using to tweet and comment for the sole purpose of bashing your name,” Penny explains. “It took some promised favors to a local cybercrime cop for the details, but we’re certain it came from Georgina’s burner phone.”
“I don’t understand. Why does she hate me so much?”
“She doesn’t hate you, honey, she hates herself. She’s taking it out on you because she’s miserable in her own life. Therefore, she’s trying to destroy yours. Also, it’s a concentrated effort to support Crystal and your mom, too, so it’s a conspiracy through and through.”
I shake my head slowly, a sadness settling in. All I ever wanted was for my family to love and accept me. Yet here they are, going to extreme measures to try and destroy me, to make me miserable and helpless.
We may not be able to choose the family we’re born into, but I can certainly choose the family I decide to spend the rest of my days with.
21
PHOEBE
Determined to fight my own battles, I head over to the Baldwin mansion. It’s Saturday morning. Crystal likes to spend her Friday nights in her childhood bedroom, then recreate her favorite breakfast routine with Mom in the morning. It never included me. But it means they’re both here.
I stand at the top of the stairs, staring at the front door for a while. Finally, Maggie comes out to greet me, a strained smile on her face.
“Miss Phoebe. What a surprise. Mrs. Astor-Baldwin wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know.”
“She’s in her study.”
I give her a warm smile. “I know the way, Maggie.”
Just as I’m about to walk into the foyer, Maggie rushes ahead and stops me. I see the shadow of concern on her round, pink-cheeked face. “I’m sorry for what has been happening betweenyou and your mother. I’ve been hearing things, and I just wanted you to know, it’s not what your father would’ve wanted.”
“Oh, I know, Maggie. That’s why I’m here. To see if I can talk some sense into my mother.”
She glances over her shoulder to the top floor where the bedrooms are. “Perhaps you should speak to your sister, as well. You never know.”
“Crystal has been an adversary for as long as I can remember.”
“She’s been on your mother’s side because she doesn’t know any better,” Maggie insists. “Just talk to her, Phoebe. You might be able to gain some clarity as to where she stands.”
I detect a double means, but I don’t fully grasp it. I admit my interest is piqued. I give Maggie a brief nod, then head across the foyer and down the main hallway.
I enter a door to my right just before the kitchen. It’s my mother’s study, which was previously my father’s. She didn’t keep many of his things. In fact, she had the whole room redecorated mere months after he passed.
It’s light and breezy, with off-white walls and warm brown furnishings, along with plenty of plush, cream-colored seating. Framed pictures adorn every inch of free space not allocated to books.
Situated before the large window is her desk. She sits behind it, her nose deep in her laptop, scrunched under a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. When she looks up and sees me, she sighs a sigh that reeks of disappointment.
