Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club #1)(75)

I grunted as I poured myself a mug. “Did you stay here?”

“Yeah.”

Grant stood. “I have to get to work. Are you sure you’ve got this?”

Ethan nodded. “Yeah, we’ll handle it. I’ll see you at home tonight.”

“There’s nothing to handle,” I said.

They ignored me. Grant squeezed my shoulder on his way to the front door.

I went into the living room and sank down into an armchair. Everly’s ugly bean bag chair was still in its place, mocking me with its hideous yellow fuzz.

“Don’t you have to work, too?” I asked, glancing at Ethan.

“I took the day off.”

“Why?”

His brow furrowed, as if I’d just asked a stupid question. He pointed at me, tracing his finger up and down. “Because this.”

I hunkered down in the chair and took a sip of coffee.

“So, all we could get out of you last night was something about Everly, and being a sperm donor, and some mumbling about gold-diggers,” Ethan said. “What the hell happened?”

I told them about the contract I’d found in Everly’s desk. How she’d agreed to be my fake girlfriend so she could hit me with a sperm donor request—and she’d kept that detail from me.

“So, you broke up with her,” Ethan said.

“No, I couldn’t break up with her because our relationship was fake. I told her our arrangement was over.”

“That’s the same as breaking up with her.”

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Are you here to argue semantics?”

“No, I’m here to help because you’re a fucking mess.”

He wasn’t wrong. For the first time in my life, I’d totally fallen apart. It was pathetic. “I just drank too much. I’ll finish my coffee and go into the office.”

“Don’t go to work today,” Dad said.

“I was already out yesterday. I have to go in.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “Give yourself a break.”

I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. “I don’t need a break. I just need some caffeine and to go to work.”

“Shepherd.” Dad’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. I hadn’t heard that tone from him in a long time. “You’re hurt. You need to deal with that, not bury it and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“There’s nothing to deal with.”

“He’s doing it again,” Ethan said, as if I wasn’t sitting right here.

“I know,” Dad said.

“I’m doing what?”

“Bottling everything up,” Ethan said. “I can practically see you doing it. It’s like you’re shoving every emotion you’ve ever had into the deepest, darkest recesses of your psyche. You did the same thing when Mom left.”

I didn’t reply. Just took a sip of coffee, keeping my eyes anywhere but on my dad and brother.

“It’s not healthy,” Ethan said. “Come on, you can talk to us.”

I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to go to work where I could focus on something else—anything but Everly. I had a company to run. I couldn’t wallow in hurt feelings because my fake girlfriend had been keeping a secret.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We had an agreement. It’s over.”

“I don’t know how she put up with you,” Ethan said, rolling his eyes. “If Grant was this emotionally stunted, I’d have gone crazy a long time ago.”

“She doesn’t have to put up with me at all, because it’s over.”

“And clearly you’re fine with that.” Ethan’s voice was full of sarcasm.

I took a deep breath. “No, I’m not fine with it. I feel like shit and not because I’m hungover. I was going to…” I paused, shutting my eyes for a moment. “I was going to ask her to stay. But it turns out, she’s no different than any of the other women I’ve dated.”

“Have you met Everly?” Ethan asked. “Because I’ve met a few of the women you dated. They were all… well, like Svetlana. Sorry, Dad.”

“It’s all right,” Dad said. “I should have known better.”

“Do you remember when Dad had the heart attack scare, about five years ago?”

My brow furrowed. “When it turned out to be severe acid reflux?”

“Yes. Who were you dating at the time? What was her name?”

I thought back. “Ava Sinclair.”

“And where was she while you were in the hospital, waiting for news?”

I cleared my throat. “At the spa. Or getting her hair done. I don’t remember.”

“What about when Grant got a promotion and Dad threw him that big party. Hadn’t you been dating that woman, Megan something, for a year? But you came to the party alone.”

“I remember her,” Dad said. “Vaguely.”

“Yeah, I’d been dating Megan for about a year. And she didn’t come with me to Grant’s party because she was getting Botox. Paid for with my credit card.”

“See?” Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Everly showed up for you when I was in the ER. She’d never even met me.”