Stone Cold Fox (84)


MY WARDROBE CHANGE was a hit. So many strange hands taking the liberty of rubbing my belly without a fragment of permission from me. I detested being touched by so many strangers, but it was a necessary evil. Gale never took her eyes off me throughout these encounters with strangers and acquaintances. Always circling. But I wouldn’t wait for her to come to me. I had to take a stance. For me. For the baby. And partially, to gloat. I couldn’t help myself.

“Enjoying the party?” I approached her with my hands carefully on my bump, not that anyone could mistake my weight gain for anything other than pregnancy.

“Enormously,” she said, eyeing my body, throwing back a sip of her scotch.

“Surprised?”

“Not necessarily. Going two for one will certainly up your odds, won’t it?”

Deep breath. In and out. Dave had been falsely gloating. Even more insulting, since it was never even consummated. That big-mouth, big-dick bastard. Never trust a man. Never trust anybody. Another misstep. Regardless, our innocent escapade was likely to be perceived as unsavory and really should not be communicated to the Cases. I had to play it cool.

“Two for one!” I laughed. “How did you know that Collin and I make love twice a day?” I asked Gale.

She cringed, but carried on. “And Dave?”

“Like every man on this yacht, he wishes,” I cooed. This was a game of reputation now, and Dave had a bad one. Not only that, but I did have the truth on my side. Flirting was not fucking. “I can’t help who yearns for me, nor can I help if said person spouts off lies to play into his own degenerate fantasy.”

“Then why were you at his place?” she hissed.

“What? Gale, please. When are you going to learn that you can’t just spread awful rumors about me and think Collin will believe you? It’s so weak, Gale. Beneath you.”

“I have the texts. Your little real estate rendezvous. You went there with him. And, Bea, you modern woman, you texted him first. Didn’t you?”

“A text isn’t—”

“Stop. Just stop.” Gale was laughing hysterically now. I was supposed to be the one gloating and here she was, not a care in the world, a supervillain with mild rosacea. “That’s not even the worst of it. I have it all, Bea. All of it.”

It was the first time Gale had said my name with that intonation. Almost ironically. Like she didn’t believe that was my name at all. But she couldn’t know. Tracks were covered. Painstakingly so. I knew this to be true. Gale took another sip of scotch and cleared her throat. It didn’t go down easily. I wanted her to choke on it. She was far too feverish, caught up in her own exhilaration.

“You have nothing,” I scoffed at her.

But what if? What if?

Gale shrugged, drunk and mean, with a flash of her teeth. “That’s fine. That’s fine. Don’t believe me. I thought it was quite kind of me to give you a heads-up. Because you won’t know when I pull the trigger. Trust me, you will not see it coming. I’d rather wait. It’s no fun to harass a pregnant woman anyway, particularly when the child in question is one of us. Well, half. I’ll bite my tongue for now. For Collin’s sake. For Baby Case. And for my own amusement.”

“Are you okay, Gale? You sound like a crazy person.” It was hard for me to not match her energy, but I didn’t want to look wild or bothered or engaged. Bea Case was cool. I had to be cool, too.

“Do I?” she whispered again. “You think you’re in the clear? That’s ridiculous when I know what you really are, but I have you now and I’ll take you down whenever I want to. Could be weeks. Months. Years. I will fucking do it and do it with a smile and I’ll do it when it will hurt you the most.”

Her drunkenness was getting the best of her. She was breathing heavily and raising her voice, receiving a side-eye from select partygoers within earshot. I smiled at them good-naturedly, scrunching my nose at them. A small wink. I knew Gale was unhinged, but I was okay, right? She didn’t know anything. She saw how Dave looked at me and jumped to a false conclusion. But the texts? She mentioned the texts. Whatever. She must have gone through Dave’s phone. He’s likely the only one still speaking to her. And why? Loyalty. Legacy. All that hogwash. Who cares? She was so full of shit, wasn’t she? She was only trying to frighten me. Goad me into unraveling myself. And I wouldn’t do it.

Besides, if she knew anything about me or her or the past or about East Eighty-First Street, if Gale really knew, I wouldn’t have come this far. Why would she sit on it? It didn’t make any sense. She just wanted me uneasy. Paranoid. Stressed. And I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Even if I felt all of those things in my little bones.

I spoke louder so the concerned parties would overhear my next move. “Good question, Gale!” She raised an eyebrow at me, curious about the non sequitur. “Well, Collin wants a girl. Wants her to be just like her mama. But I want a boy. A sweet, loving, happy little boy. Just like my sweet, loving and happy husband.” I smiled at the strangers listening to our conversation, admiring me from afar, tickled by the promise of new life.

“A boy,” Gale said, quiet without expression. “Collin Jr.? Or a nod to Hayes?”

“We haven’t talked about names, but—”

Gale shook her head and held up a finger at me. “Or maybe something new to the family. Something strong but unassuming.” She smiled, pausing dramatically before speaking again. “Like Richard?”

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