Black Ties and White Lies(99)

“I hadn’t even noticed you that night until I noticed him watching you. You were chugging beers with those dumb friends of yours. I’d been having an argument with my buddy about a class we were both taking when I noticed Beckham staring at something. I’d never seen something catch his eye. When I followed his gaze, he was staring at you.”

That isn’t possible. The first time we ever met, the first time he ever saw me, had to have been when Carter took me home to The Hamptons.

“Carter.” My voice trembles, his name coming out shaky and unsure.

He reaches up and pushes hair from my face. The feel of his fingertips against my skin has me feeling sick. I hate it. I want to get out of here, to get far away from this man who isn’t acting like the man I once loved.

“In that moment I knew he wanted you. And I hated my brother. I hated how successful he was. How proud my father was of him. I’d never be able to measure up to him. So I got to you first. It was obvious how interested he was in you. I wanted to take something from him. I’d never have my own company—but I could have you.”

Words fail me. He seems drunk. He could be making all of this up, but it doesn’t seem that way. Not with the taunt in his tone, in the way he watches me with morbid satisfaction with telling me that information.

I try to process what he’s saying, what his words mean. Is he telling the truth? “You don’t know he wanted me,” I accuse, grasping for straws at this point. I don’t know why it even matters to begin with. Does he just want to be able to say he stole the woman his brother noticed first? It seems extremely petty and irrelevant because in the end, Beckham still got me.

“Oh, I did. I could tell. He wanted you bad. I wanted to hurt him more.”

“Why does any of that matter now?”

“It matters because you should know that Beckham lied to you.”

“How?”

"Did you see the woman I showed up with tonight? The hot blonde in the blue dress?”

I think I hear the sound of footsteps behind him, but no one appears before us. Disappointment settles deep in my bones. For a brief moment, I had hope that this confrontation was going to be over.

“Did you?” Carter raises his voice, making me flinch.

“Yes,” I yelp.

“Do you know who she is?”

I shake my head, my tongue feeling heavy with nerves.

“She’s the top reporter for a gossip site. She knows everything about everyone.”

“Good for her,” I respond in defeat. At this point I have no idea where any of this is going, what he’s trying to achieve with the boomerang of questions.

“She told me something about that fiancé of yours that I think you’d want to know.”

Maybe he knows why Beck and I became engaged in the first place. I don’t know how he or she could’ve found out about the agreement, but I guess it’s possible. I keep my mouth shut, however, in case that’s not where he’s going with this.

“I’m sorry, Carter,” I apologize, walking on eggshells with his turbulent mood right now. “I don’t know where you’re going with any of this.”

“You might know her for the article she ran on him. The one with all the women. I’m sure you saw it.”

“I’ve heard about it.”

“Did you know that Beckham paid Ruby to run it?”

My body goes absolutely still with shock. I couldn’t have heard him correctly. That’d make no sense. That article was the entire reason Beck was pressured by his board to clean up his image. There’s no way he’d be the one to run it in the first place.

My teeth dig into my lip as I try and think of a response. I don’t believe Carter’s delusions, but he also doesn’t seem to be in a stable state of mind. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea to tell him he’s wrong.

“Why would he do that?”

Carter clicks his tongue disapprovingly. He taps my forehead. “You’re smarter than this, Margo. Think. What happened after that article ran on Beck?”

I hold my tongue. I know exactly what happened. After that article ran, Beck was told by his board he needed to clean up his image or they’d risk losing investors. I knew all of this. It’s the entire reason Beck came to me to begin with. But why would Beck ever want it to run in the first place?

He grabs me by the shoulders, bringing his face inches from mine. “You can cut the act. I know that Beck told you he needed a fake fiancée after that article ran to get the board off his back. He deceived you, Margo. The only reason the board was ever after him was because of him. He found a way for him to finally have you and he took it.”

“No,” I whisper, suddenly feeling dizzy. I don’t know if it’s from fear, shock, or the alcohol, but it feels like I’m moments away from passing out.

“He schemed to get you. He hated knowing that I ever had you, from the moment he first saw you at the bar. All of this was him trying to get back at me. He’s been obsessed with it from the moment we met. He doesn’t give a shit about you. It’s always been that he was jealous I got to you first. He never forgave me for that.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I feel like I could throw up. Too much is happening at once. I don’t want to believe a word he’s saying, but I can’t help but question everything now.