Stone Cold Fox (68)

Within reason.



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? ? ?

COLLIN AND I arrived back at our town house with a signature newlywed glow, physically manifesting in our enviable island tans. He even lifted me across the threshold like we were in the 1950s. Lovely. I had never felt so accomplished. Work was work, that was always a given, I’d rise to the very top in due time, now just for fun. But marrying into one of the richest families on the planet? That took true skill, and I’d done it, all while I was still shy of thirty.

There was nothing left to do except finally take down Gale Wallace-Leicester for good.

Oh, no. I wasn’t about to forget every stunt she pulled. Attempts to sully my reputation with the Case family. Her bullshit toast at the wedding. East Eighty-First Street. I couldn’t forget. I wouldn’t let her just slip away, lying in wait, rearing her ugly head into my marriage whenever she saw fit to do so, like I’m sure she was planning. I’d thought long and hard about it on the honeymoon. I wouldn’t be like Mother, not this time, but playtime was over. I was Collin’s wife now, a newfound power in our dynamic, and Gale needed to go. I was well within my rights. She was asking for it, and I would use Collin to do it. It was the best way to proactively protect myself and I wanted to make it hurt. Why not? She deserved it.

If Mother were in my position, I knew she’d have an entirely different outlook on the matter. She wouldn’t give Gale the time of day. She probably would have drowned Collin in the Indian Ocean, after learning his net worth, taking him out on a catamaran at sea on the honeymoon, placing the blame on a feigned boating accident, fully milking the persona of a rich widow for as long as it behooved her. And then she’d be on to the next one.

See, we were nothing alike. Mother and me. I had done what I had to do to survive.

But Mother liked the chase. Mother liked the con. Mother really liked a long con, provided the stakes continued to grow. It was exciting for her. She relished seeing what she could get away with, and for a very long time, she got away with a lot. Mother was never about love or stability or finding a partner or trying to raise a well-adjusted daughter or anything a normal person would like to achieve. She wasn’t a normal person. I knew I wasn’t normal by the standard metrics either, I couldn’t help what I inherited, but I knew I could be different from her.

I had to be, once I freed myself from her.

Would I have liked the opportunity to show a man the real me? Have a real relationship? Fall in love? Of course I considered it, a long time ago when I first returned to New York, but who in their right mind would want to deal with everything that I carried with me? What was inside of me? Who would really stay at the end of the day? No one normal, no one kind, no good man would cook breakfast for a girl like me, buy me flowers just because, introduce me to their own mother, knowing the truth about me. She took that from me. A girl like me would only attract the darkness, and she made me that way, with a smile, knowing exactly what she had stolen. In doing so, Mother unwittingly taught me that it was always better to leave than to be left behind. Better to be what others need, cater to their emotions, give them what they want, than focus on what I actually needed myself. And now? Now I didn’t need what most people need. I worked that all out, cultivating it like a callus, training myself to be a predator, like a great white shark. Singular focus. They eat, fuck and sleep? Well, me fucking too. Get to the top of that food chain and stay there. Stay alive.

Of course I would have liked something different, but it was never going to happen and I don’t dream for anything that I can’t make come true. Not anymore.

So I intended to take my job of keeping Collin happy very seriously, which would prove difficult because his libido took a real leap off a cliff after the honeymoon. Don’t get me wrong, our sex life was never raucous, but it was certainly consistent, and his sudden disinterest was baffling, particularly when we really upped the ante in the Maldives. We had been screwing constantly. It was the happiest I’d ever seen him. Worlds away from his dull family, his dull job, his dull friends. It was all Bea, all the time, for three full weeks, and he couldn’t get enough of me. Hell, maybe I was just the littlest bit happy, too. A honeymoon has that effect on people. Everyone you encounter is just so thrilled for you, it’s contagious. Little treats and surprises everywhere you go. It’s their pleasure! Congratulations! Such a beautiful couple! Beautiful weather, beautiful places, beautiful food, beautiful drinks. It’s just all so goddamn beautiful. No, I didn’t love Collin, but the feeling of being there with him made me imagine what it would be like with someone I did love. Someone I could love, had my life gone a different way. What a fairy tale, but if not in the Maldives, where else could you fantasize about fairy tales?

But Collin was moody again a few days after our return. His whole demeanor had shifted. He had gone sullen, more quiet and cold. Collin was a congenial man most of the time. Nearly always pleasant. He was never wildly intriguing or the life of the party or the brightest bulb in any room anywhere, but people liked him, myself included, and that’s because he gravitated to the sunny side of life. Until he didn’t. Yet another wrench for me to contend with.

I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of depression with Collin. We had talked about it once early on and it never came up again because he said it was no longer a problem. Yet here it was. Sometimes I would hear him crying alone in the bathroom. On the weekends he would scarcely get out of bed. He was ordering multiple Oreo milkshakes to our apartment and asking me to answer the door like some kind of binge-eating freak show. He managed to keep going to work for the sake of his father, but it was clear he was phoning it in, which only strained their relationship even further.