You're Invited(80)
I took a deep breath.
Okay, so he was a gold-digging asshole who was using me for a sweet ride.
Was I surprised? Maybe not.
Could I leverage this to my benefit?
That was the more interesting question.
I thumbed through the documents.
“How bad is it? Low checking account, or seriously in the red?”
The look on Mike’s face told me what I needed to know.
Fuck me.
“And his businesses?”
“Kaavi, he’d been bought out a year ago, though I can’t seem to find a trace of the money anywhere. His current start-up has been defunct for months. They’ve even filed for bankruptcy.”
Fuck you, Spencer. If this shit ever got out it would ruin me. At least he could have told me so we’d come up with a plan or something.
“I’ve asked my friend to keep up with the checks. This is just the financial part of it. You know, stuff that’s left a paper trail. There’s a whole other side we need to check out. In my experience when someone’s in it as deep as him, it’s only a matter of time before something else starts coming out of the woodwork.
“Oh, and one last thing.”
There was more?
“Do you know what his relationship is to someone named Zoe? Zoe Bassett?”
“Zoe?” I repeated. “He’s never mentioned the name. Who is she? Like an ex-girlfriend or something?” Spencer and I didn’t really talk about our exes. One of the many things we’ve tiptoed around because, hey, when you’ve heard your now-fiancé bone your then-best-friend in the next room, you don’t ever really want to talk about it.
“No idea. She had a police report filed against him last year, but she’s dropped the charges recently.”
“What for?”
“No clue. She’s got herself a pretty high-end legal team by the look of it. Everything was buried, and we can’t seem to track her down either. Look, it could be nothing. Maybe he owed her some cash or something. My guys are on it, of course, but I’d keep my eyes open if I were you.”
24
KAAVI
Four Days before the Wedding
MY MOTHER TREATS even the simplest of parties like the queen is coming to tea, so I had no doubt she would go over the top for this “small get-together,” as she and my dad called it. When I got back, the house was overrun with service staff and setup crew and extra hired help.
“For god’s sake, child, where on earth have you been?” My mother descended on me the moment I stepped inside. “Never mind. Just go and take a look at the table decor. Tell the florist whether you like it. I personally think it should be taller, but he keeps saying that guests get annoyed when they can’t see past them when they are sitting down.”
I didn’t really have time to dwell on this news about Spencer. I had to deal with flowers, and then table setup, and then my mother wanted to talk to me about the layout of the buffet. I wanted to tell her to just get on with it. It was fine. It was all fine.
But it wasn’t all fine.
My fiancé was lying to me.
Sure, we didn’t have the most rock-solid relationship to start with. But I’d thought we could have been a team. I mean, look at my mum and dad—a strong example of teamwork if I ever saw it. Sure, I’d never seen them so much as hold hands, let alone kiss, but they’d built this fantastic life for me and my sisters. Maybe it wasn’t what you saw in the movies, but it was a hell of a lot easier than ugly crying and chugging down bottles of wine when you got your heart broken.
But now this sneaky little shit was hiding things from me. Things like being broke. I mean, I honestly didn’t care about the money—my dad had plenty of it for me, for him, and for our entire neighborhood if necessary. It was the lying that truly pissed me off. Well, that, and what the fuck was I supposed to do if it got out?
How the hell was I supposed to deal with this? The wedding festivities had started. It wasn’t like I could call all of this off. My mother would kill me. Hell, my family’s name would be dragged through the mud—I’d let her kill me.
Spencer and I had been doing a delicate little dance from the moment we got engaged. We made the necessary public appearances, of course, but we also kept a careful distance. In true Sri Lanka style, all this was easier because it was unheard of for him to stay at our house until we were officially married. He visited daily, but it was mostly to have tea or watch cricket with my father. He gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek whenever he saw me, and he was a fucking dream whenever there was an aunty around. We were cautious, as we should have been, given how, oh, you know, we were never really dating to begin with.
I weighed out the pros and cons. Since money wasn’t the issue for me (hell, I may be many things, but a gold digger is certainly not one of them), and canceling a wedding that was just a few days away would be a shitstorm of epic proportions, maybe I could use this as leverage. Let Spencer know his bullshit wouldn’t fly with me.
I have to admit, after feeling so off-kilter these few months, it felt good to finally have the upper hand again.
Spencer showed up to the party right on cue, dressed immaculately in the shirt and trousers I’d had sent over. It was as if he knew, too, because he was carrying a large bouquet of Stargazer lilies, which he presented to my mother with a flourish, giving her a warm kiss on the cheek.