The Rules According to Gracie Page 8

  “Des.” She spoke his name as though it were a sigh, a question, an apology.

  “What, Gracie?” His voice was more solid than his thoughts, thankfully.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Really?” He folded his arms, too, mostly so they wouldn’t act of their own accord.

  She bit her lip. There were no fancy words, none of the snappy banter that he’d come to expect from her. “Yes.”

  “And why is that?” He should tell her to leave because it would be the smart thing to do. But that stupid, stubborn, idealistic part of him—the part he denied over and over—wanted to hear her out.

  “I treated you badly. I shouldn’t have come to you last night knowing where it would go. I got caught up in the moment….”

  Most guys would be thrilled for a gorgeous, sensual woman to offer their bodies without a demand for commitment. When it came to Gracie, he wanted more. He’d wanted her to at least stay the morning after, to talk to him and see if there was something between them. To give them a chance.

  He hadn’t wanted to watch her run out of his bedroom like a bat out of hell, bruising his ego and making him feel that all too familiar sting of shame that he’d been judged yet again.

  “It was wrong of me, I know that.” She wrung her hands, swallowing before she spoke again. “You deserve so much better.”

  “Yes, I do.” He nodded, the chill in his tone deliberate and designed to push her away. “The ironic thing is you were worried that I would treat you like a one-night stand.”

  She winced.

  “And then you up and leave like we’d slept together just for the sake of it.” He could feel the rise of emotion within him, the quickening of his pulse, the heat that burned from his stomach and up into his chest. “I don’t fuck for the sake of it, Gracie.”

  “I know.” She shook her head, her hair scattering around her shoulders. “I never thought it was gratuitous.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t. I feel something for you, Gracie,” he growled, the words tumbling out uncensored. “And you threw it in my face like I was another one of your random dates.”

  He’d hit his mark. The shocked ‘o’ on her lips and the flare of her nostrils told him the words had stung in just the right place. Damn it, but he wanted to hurt her. He wanted her to experience the pain he felt deep in his chest, the ache he’d felt ever since the first day she sauntered into his restaurant with another man on her arm.

  She sucked in a slow, shaky breath. “That’s unfair.”

  “Is it?” He threw his hands up. “You bring guy after guy to my restaurant. None of them are good enough. Why would I think I’m any different?”

  “You are different, Des,” she whispered.

  “Clearly not different enough. Seeing as you’re so fond of rules, I’ve got another one for you: Don’t call me.”

  Oh, how he wanted to throw it all aside and sweep her up into his arms. He’d never fallen this hard for a girl before, not even for his ex-fiancée. But he couldn’t accept her apology. He’d made a promise to himself the last time this happened—he was never going to let himself be anyone’s consolation prize.

  And until she realized that he was good enough for her, he could never be with Gracie Greene.

  “I’m going to shower,” he announced. “And when I get out I expect you to be gone.”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated, wringing her hands. Part of him wanted to grab her and pull her close so he could kiss her concerns away. He felt more for Gracie than he had any other woman. She ignited him, stirred long-forgotten feelings. “If it means anything at all I… I like you. A lot.”

  But it wasn’t to be.

  “It doesn’t mean anything if you’re willing to let it go,” he said.

  He stalked out of the room, each purposeful stride putting much needed distance between him and Gracie. He should have known this was coming. He did see it coming, but he’d been in denial. Blinded by lust and infatuation with a girl who was like a manifestation of his past.

  Did he think that getting her to scream his name would be enough to break down her ideals? That a night of pleasure would undo the years of brainwashing from her parents?

  Des turned on the shower and stepped in, letting the hot water pelt against him. He wanted to wash this morning from his memory and forget that he ever let Gracie under his skin. The muffled sound of the front door closing made him grit his teeth.

  Damn it.

  He thumped a fist against the hard tiles of the shower, wanting to divert the pain to something physical. He didn’t need another judgemental, spoiled little rich girl in his life. Been there, done that. Yet he couldn’t shake the empty ache in his chest knowing Gracie was gone.

  And that she’d taken a piece of him with her.

  Chapter Eight

  Spring had given way to the first balmy days of summer, and Gracie embraced the change of season with gusto. She’d written to-do lists and ticked things off with an enthusiastic frequency. She’d made goals and set the wheels in motion to achieving them.

  She’d deleted her online dating profile—make that profiles. Plural. She’d cancelled the email account she used specially for exchanging details with prospective dates. She’d even called the agency who ran the speed dating and singles networking events to ask that they remove her phone number from their records. When her cute new neighbor down the street had asked her out for a drink, she’d politely declined.

  Gracie Greene had a new set of rules. Well, just one rule: Forget about dating.

  Since Des had refused her apology—and refused her calls on the few times she’d mustered the courage to dial his number—she’d looked upon her situation with fresh eyes. She didn’t resent him. In fact, she was thankful he’d been able to shed light on the sort of person she’d become—one obsessed with artificial perfection.

  Of course it had stung. She’d shed her fair share of tears in the days afterwards. But she understood. She’d rejected the one person who cared for her because of who she was. He wasn’t anything like the men who’d shown up to dates because she had a photogenic face and social pedigree. It had recently occurred to her that anyone with access to the internet would have been able to see her connection to the late and great Richard Greene, former head of surgery and namesake of the Greene wing at Melbourne Private.

  Yet Des had liked her for nothing other than who she was and she’d thrown it away because she was worried her mother would look down her nose at him, and because she’d made a promise to her father that she’d never be able to keep.

  But the fault was hers, and as part of her desire to let go of the pursuit of perfection, she was accepting responsibility…even if it meant going solo for a while.

  A knock at her front door broke Gracie out of her reverie. Placing her coffee cup on the kitchen table, she abandoned her book and jogged on bare feet to see who it was. Sunlight streamed through the glass panels of her apartment’s entrance, flooding the front room with golden tones. Outside, a slender figure stood close to the door.

  “Gracie?” Emmaline’s distinctive tone sounded as Gracie unlocked the door.

  “Hey Ems—” She stopped short when she opened the door to the tear-stained face of her sister. Emmaline’s normally perfect blond hair was falling out of its ponytail, her cheeks were splotchy and pink. “What’s wrong?”

  A sob wrenched from Emmaline’s throat. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand as more tears slid down her face. Her usual attire had been replaced with a baggy sweater and leggings, something Gracie hadn’t seen her in since living at home.

  Enveloping her sister in a hug, she was about to close the door when a car pulled into the driveway. Gracie instantly recognized the silver Bentley as her mother’s. Gravel kicked up at the wheels as the car pulled to an abrupt stop in her driveway. Cecilia got out and slammed the door behind her. Her ankles wobbled on pencil-thin stilettos as she stalked up to where her daughters stood.

  “Please leave!” Emmaline�
��s plea was high-pitched and desperate, drawing the attention of Gracie’s neighbor, who was pruning roses in his front yard.

  “Get inside,” Cecilia hissed. “Don’t you dare cause a scene.”

  “What on earth is going on?” Gracie looked from her sister to her mother and back again.

  “It’s Conrad.” Emmaline’s chest heaved, the words catching in her throat. “He’s been cheating on me.”

  “What?” Gracie blinked, stepping back to allow the two women through her front door.

  She led Emmaline to the living room and set her down on the couch. There must be some mistake. There was no way Conrad would cheat on Ems. She was the most caring wife anyone could possibly have.

  “He’s cheating on me, Gracie.” Emmaline’s breathing came in short bursts.

  “Hey, hey.” Gracie rubbed her sister’s arms, her brows knitting together. “Don’t hyperventilate on me. Take it slow and tell me what happened.”

  “Your sister is making a mountain out of a molehill. You shouldn’t encourage her, Gracelyn.” Cecilia huffed and dropped into a wingback chair, facing them. Her frail hands twisted in her lap, absently wrenching one of her bauble-like jewels around and around.

  “I went to visit him at the office.” Emmaline heaved the words through sobs. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, as though she were staring directly at the scene she’d uncovered earlier. “And his secretary said he was out, so I let myself through to drop off his lunch, because he’d left it at home and I didn’t want him to go hungry—”

  Of course she didn’t. Gracie sighed. Her sister was by far the sweetest, most selfless person she knew. Conrad had always seemed like the perfect choice for Emmaline, despite the fact that Gracie had never warmed to him. But he’d ticked all the boxes—wealthy and educated, ran his own optometry practice. He came from a high-class family.

  Not that any of it mattered now. She was going to set Conrad straight when she saw him next…if she didn’t claw his face off first.

  “—and then when I was dropping it off I noticed his car was still in the parking lot. I asked his secretary where he was and she said he was offsite, which didn’t sound right if his car was still there, but the receptionist is old and I thought maybe she was confused. I went to leave, and then I heard his voice coming from one of the exam rooms and I walked in on them.”

  Gracie didn’t need to hear what was next, but she let Emmaline get it all out.

  “He was in there—screwing the other optometrist right on the examination chair!”

  Oh, no.

  “You’re being ridiculous Emmaline.” Cecila threw her hands up in the air. “One indiscretion is not worth throwing away your marriage.”

  Emmaline’s hands fluttered at her neck. She looked like a baby bird who’d been pushed out of the nest. “We took vows, Mother. Vows!”

  “I’m so sorry.” Gracie stroked her sister arm. “I think you’re absolutely right to be upset. He should never have done that.”

  “I’d had a funny feeling for a while, but I kept ignoring it thinking I was worrying for nothing. God knows how many times it’s happened before. He tried to tell me it was only this once but—”

  “She wants to get a divorce, Gracelyn. A divorce.” Her mother said the word as though she were spitting out poison. “What will they say at church?”

  Ah, that was why Cecilia followed Emmaline there. Only one member of the family had ever gotten divorced before—Cecilia’s older sister left her husband for the exact same reason Emmaline was at Gracie’s house now. Her mother had all but disowned their aunt, ostracized her from family functions because apparently she had brought shame to the family name.

  Gracie drew in a deep, calming breath. She had to be strong for her sister. Fighting Cecilia’s out-dated views was not what she needed right now. She needed love and support, the two things their mother seemed unable to provide.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Gracie asked.

  “Can you wave a magic wand and take me back five years so I don’t marry that stupid son of a…well, Helena isn’t a b-word, but you know what I mean.” Even in her state of complete distress Emmaline couldn’t swear or even speak ill of her mother-in-law. “I can’t believe he would do this to me.”

  The girls sat in silence.

  “I can’t believe it, either,” Gracie whispered.

  “You’re as bad as each other,” Cecilia crowed, her ice-blue eyes narrowed. “This is not worth ruining the Greene name for.”

  “You know I only married him because you were determined that our families should join up.” Emmaline let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I didn’t love him, but I respected him. I respected what we committed to in getting married, and I never once even contemplated cheating on him. I guess it serves me right.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ems. Don’t even try to blame yourself because he couldn’t be as good a person as you are.”

  “Think about what’s important here.” Cecilia shook her head. “You know I’m never going to live this down if you file for divorce.”

  “This isn’t about you.” Gracie couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  Cecilia Greene’s face froze, her mouth hanging open, her eyes unblinking. It may have been the first time Gracie had ever seen her mother speechless.

  The frustration from pushing Des away came tumbling out. In the clear light of day she saw how flawed her mother’s ideals were, how much she hurt her daughters with her refusal to let them live their own lives.

  “Can’t you, for once, put your daughter before yourself?” Gracie slipped her hand into Emmaline’s. Her sister didn’t deserve this judgement when she wasn’t the one who’d broken her vows. “Your reputation is not worth destroying the happiness of your child.”

  A smile wobbled on Emmaline’s lips. “Thanks, Gracie.”

  “Our family name is important.” The fight left her mother’s body, her bony shoulders hunched forward and she seemed to shrink in front of Gracie’s eyes. “Your father gave us his name and I want to protect it. It’s all I have left of him.”

  Gracie swallowed. Her whole life Cecilia Greene had been a force, an imposing woman that stood proudly by her husband’s side and led their family with an iron will and determination to rival any military leader. She’d been terrifying at times, hard and inflexible.

  But her love for her husband could never be doubted. He’d been the only one who could soften those hard blue eyes, who could break through that tough outer shell. Grief had turned Gracie’s mother into a tougher, harder, more rigid version of herself.

  “You have us,” Gracie said. “We miss him too, you know.”

  Cecilia swallowed, anguish flashing across her face as fast as lightening before the mask returned. She folded her delicate hands neatly in her lap, lips pursed.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you, Mother.” Emmaline said, her voice shaking. “But I can’t go back to Conrad after this.”

  “If you love them it hurts more when they leave.” The words came out so softly that Gracie wondered if she’d imagined them.

  Cecilia stood and hesitated before turning on her heels and leaving the room without a backwards glance.

  “I think she needed to hear that,” Gracie said, nodding as if to convince herself. She’d never stood up so openly to her mother before, and she had certainly never seen her mother react like that.

  “I think so, too. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Emmaline frowned. “Is it okay if I stay here?”

  “Of course.”

  Emmaline sighed, rubbing her temples. “Smug bastard had the audacity to say that if I slept with him more then he wouldn’t have been forced to go elsewhere.”

  “He did not.”

  “Yep.” Her sister nodded. “I’m sorry, but I can’t get excited for a beer belly and unwieldy pubic hair.”

  Gracie snorted and then cringed. She was tempted to call TMI on Emmaline, but the girl deserved her chance to vent now that their mother had left. She sl
ung an arm around her sister’s shoulders and squeezed.

  “You never know, Ems, this might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  “You think?” Emmaline raised a delicate, golden brow.

  Hope shimmered in the depths of her eyes, and a tentative smiled tugged at her lips. If Gracie didn’t know any better she’d say that Emmaline was relieved to be rid of Conrad, despite the humiliation of finding him in the arms of another woman. Perhaps now she had the opportunity to write the life she wanted, one free of Cecilia Greene’s restraints.

  “Yeah, I’m almost certain of it.” Gracie smiled. “Now you can find someone to love. Someone who has nice, neat pubic hair.”

  “And abs.” Emmaline chuckled, wiping the leftover tears from her eyes. “I want abs, too.”

  …

  Saturday mornings at First were usually busy, thanks to their creative brunch menu, but the first balmy hint of summer heat had drawn even more people out of hibernation. Customers filled every inch of the restaurant. They occupied the wooden tables in the courtyard outside and lined the edges when there were no tables left.

  Pride swelled in Des’s chest. Twelve months ago his restaurant was struggling to break even, but his perseverance and hard work paid off. When something felt right you had to go for it.

  Hypocrite.

  He frowned at the parallel his mind drew to his failed-before-it-started relationship with Gracie. Since the night they’d slept together, his stomach churned constantly. He couldn’t erase the image of her standing in his lounge room, guilt painted all over her face.

  But she’d apologized for the way she treated him, not for the reason behind it. And that reasoning was precisely his concern. Sure, she’d had sex with him without knowing whether it would lead to anything. That he could handle, but the fact that she threw the towel in because her family would think him a poor choice… Well, that cut to the bone.

  Still, he hadn’t been able to think about anyone else. All other women paled in comparison to her; therefore he was up shit creek without a paddle.

  “You’ve got to get laid.” Paul slapped him on the back with gusto. “I can’t stand to see you moping like this. Chicks aren’t worth it.”