Egotistically Yours by Hayley Faiman

Chapter Two

LAURENT

I should be chompingat the bit to get into Paulette’s pants. But I find myself staring off into the city skyline and wonder what Bethie is up to these days. I haven’t asked my dad how she is, haven’t wanted to seem as desperate as I feel.

There is a knock on my door and I know that it’s Paulette. Turning away from the window, I head toward her. Opening the door, I smile as I step to the side. My stomach clenches and I feel sick all of a sudden at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?” Paulette asks, breezing past me, dropping a suitcase at my feet.

“I’m fine,” I grind out.

Leaving her luggage in the place she dropped it, I watch her walk over to the window, standing exactly where I was just moments ago. She’s beautiful, her long brown hair skimming just above her ass. Her body slim and long. She’s tall too, right under six feet, which is perfect to my six-foot-three stature.

I should want her more than I do.

Right now, she’s nothing more than a means to an end. I need to get off and she’s offered to do just that. There is a moment of silence, she doesn’t say anything, then she turns slowly, giving me a small playful smile.

“Come on, Laurent. It’s been far too long,” she purrs.

Smiling at her, I shake my head once. “You act as though you have abstained when we both know that you have not.”

She grins, taking a step toward me, but only one. She places her hand on her hip and strikes a pose before she hums. “You know that I haven’t. Does this bother you?”

Shaking my head, I close the rest of the distance between us. “You know it doesn’t, this is just for fun,” I say.

She laughs softly. “Yes, indeed it is.”

The next day I wake up later than usual and turn to the side to find the bed cold. She’s already left. When Paulette said one night, she meant it. I stretch and moan at how stiff my muscles are, it’s a great feeling. I’m finally physically relaxed, but mentally I’m still a goddamn mess.

Getting dressed, I head down to the office to try and get some emails sent off. I could work from home, but there is something about going into the office that makes me feel more accomplished.

I send off a dozen emails and texts to college friends who I know are in the natural resource industry, then I hunt for others that are close. It shouldn’t be hard, this is Texas after all, oil is everywhere you turn, and they always need funds to invest and reinvest.

Honestly, I’m not trying to go huge and get the mega companies, I’m hoping to do some integrated or midstream businesses. Some people who are like me, they have a good name but just need to get themselves out there a bit more.

Maybe it will work, maybe I’ll flop and close up shop. I won’t know until I try. And I’ll try until I have nothing else left. Which could come sooner rather than later at this point.

I work until later in the evening, then I decide to head back home. Tomorrow is the family dinner with everyone. A tradition my dad loves far too much for me to try and ruin it by being selfish and not showing up.

My sleep is restless, even after a few cocktails. What I need to do is go out for the night, expend some energy, get laid again. Fucking Paulette was good, but I need to do something else. I need to go out, loosen up. I need to just fucking feel again. I haven’t felt anything for so long, I think something is seriously wrong with me.

Thoughts of Bethie haunt my dreams all night long. I think about her blonde hair, her smile, her curvy little body. I shouldn’t miss her the way that I do, but I do. She was special. She haunts me, and the way I treated her is what haunts me even more.

I was a complete fucking dick to her and all because I was scared. I felt far too much for her and that feeling hasn’t gone away. I ran like a little bitch, like the pussy that I am. Entitled and full of shit. I ran from her and I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive myself.

Sunday comes and time for family dinner happens far too quickly. Once I’m dressed, I head over to my father and Tennessee’s place. I’m greeted by a slobbering Holden at the door. Scooping him in my arms, I ask him about his day.

“Play outside,” he shouts.

Fucking hell, this kid is loud. Walking into the living room, I notice everyone is gathered around talking. Typically, the crew is a bit more spread out than this. They seem to be focused and I frown as I enter the room.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

My dad clears his throat, looking down at his shoes. I take another step inside, then let Holden down on the floor with a pat to his head. I love the kid. He’s hilarious but loud, he’s always got some scheme he’s playing out and he reminds me a hell of a lot of myself. He toddles off to the corner where he has a massive amount of toys set up and starts to play with them.

“What’s going on?” I ask again, though it comes out as more of a demand when nobody answers me.

Tennessee lets out a sigh, then clears her throat. “I was telling them about my Friday night,” she begins.

“Okay …” I say, unsure of why everyone is being so secretive.

“Bethie had her baby and Tennessee helped her with the delivery,” my dad announces.

The blood drains from my face. It must have because I feel faint immediately.

Baby?

Baby?

Baby?

I must say one of the baby’s out loud because my dad snorts. “Yeah, baby.”

“Nobody told me, because?” I ask, flicking my gaze between Tennessee and my dad.

Tennessee bites her bottom lip, then chews on it for a moment, her eyes focused on my father’s and nowhere else. They watch one another for a long moment and I’m about to lose my fucking shit when finally, my dad speaks.

“Because you treated her like shit and turned your back on her?”

“Who is the father?” I demand, not wanting to get into the rest of the relationship shit.

There is another long silence, and I’m about ready to leave, drive over to her place and ask her my fucking self. When my father speaks again, it’s very quiet and his tone is more serious than I’ve heard in a long time, especially directed toward me.

“She wouldn’t tell us, Laurent. Do you have any idea why she would keep something like that from Tennessee, someone who is supposed to be her best friend?”

Taking a step backward, I catch myself from falling on my ass, but barely.

“Oh, Laurent, you haven’t done anything, have you?” Lucinda asks.

My fucking sister. She’s so sweet, so fucking broken and lost right now. A year ago, I would have never described her that way, she’s been through hell and back and right now, the way that she’s looking at me, I feel like a gigantic fucking pile of shit.

Shaking my head, I lift my hand to my face and run my palm down, trying to make this moment disappear. Maybe I’m still in a dream? Maybe I’m not fully awake?

“I … no, I haven’t done anything. We were casual until we weren’t, then I ended it. I wasn’t nice about it, but I didn’t do anything,” I ramble.

“Could it be yours?” Lucinda asks, her voice timid and soft.

Shifting my gaze over to hers, I blink, then I see two of her and I blink again so that there is only one. Swallowing, I try to think of the last time that I was with Bethie. It was our farewell fuck in the copy room. Jesus Christ, if I impregnated someone with a quick fuck in the copy room, I don’t think I’ll be able to get over that shit.

“I need to go,” I murmur, turning around.

I start to walk away, but then I feel a strong hand clasp down around my shoulder and gently jerk me to a stop. Turning around, I clear my throat as I come face-to-face with my father. His eyes darken as he looks at me with nothing other than concern.

“I think you should stay for dinner.”

Shaking my head, I clear my throat. “I need to see her. I need to know.”

“Is it yours? I’ve wondered …”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I focus my gaze on him. “I’m going to find out, right fucking now,” I grind out.

Anger fills me instantly at the thought of Bethie having my baby and not fucking telling me.

“Are you going to be part of his life? If not, don’t go. Do not go to her place hotheaded, making promises that you aren’t capable of or aren’t ready to follow through with and keep.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I blink. “I’m over thirty. I’m not a boy anymore. If this baby is mine, I’m going to do the right thing.”

“What’s that?” he asks, clearly testing me.

“Whatever I need to, whatever I can. Whatever she’ll allow.”

His lips curve up and he gives me an approving nod before his hand drops from my shoulder. “Good boy.”

BETHANIE

The knockon my door causes me to jump. My mom is down at the laundromat in my building doing some much-needed laundry. I’ve only been home for a couple of days, but I can already tell that I am going to need my own washer and dryer immediately, if not sooner. Thinking about the cost of that makes my heart race.

Slowly, I stand to my feet and look over to the sleeping little boy in his bouncer. I can’t believe just days ago he was inside of me. And now, he sleeps so peacefully as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Tucker is innocent, completely innocent and he doesn’t realize just how cruel this world is yet. I don’t want him to ever know either, but I’m under no illusion that I can protect him from anything.

The knock on the door sounds again and my body jerks before I begin to make my way toward the sound. Looking through the peephole, I close my eyes and let out a breath as I rest my forehead against the door.

“Bethie,” the voice on the other side calls out.

Reaching out, my hand trembles as I grip the doorknob. Lifting my head, I inhale a deep breath as I wrench the door open. I look like a fucking mess. I still look nine months pregnant. My hair is a ratted, matted disaster. My clothes aren’t even clean. I’m sure I smell. I can’t remember having a shower after coming home from the hospital and I am in no mood for a visitor.

I tilt my head back and look up into the angry eyes of the only man I’ve ever fallen in love with.

Laurent Astor.

The last person that I want to see, considering the state my person is in. I’m a fucking mess.

He has his hands on his hips, his lips pressed together in anger as he tips his chin down to look into my eyes.

“You have something you want to tell me, Bethie?” he asks.

I could say a million things. This is the perfect opportunity to tell him exactly what I should have months ago. Except the way he’s looking at me right now, he’s challenging me and I suddenly become defensive.

“You know you’re an egotistical asshole?” I sneer.

He smirks. “I do know that,” he murmurs. “I was told you had a busy few days. Care to enlighten me?”

“Nope,” I snap. “I don’t.”

“He’s mine. I know that he is and I won’t stand for you keeping me from him. I also won’t let my child live in a one-bedroom apartment like a fucking—”

“Like a fucking what?” I hiss. “Like a normal person?”

He narrows his eyes at me, then shakes his head once. “Do I need to get a paternity test?” he asks. “If I do and he’s mine, I’ll take him from you.”

“Fuck you, Laurent. God, you’re such an asshole.”

He smirks, but that look on his face doesn’t stay there for long. “Excuse me,” my mother calls out.

Laurent steps to the side to let her pass, but she doesn’t go far. She turns around to face him, her mom’s gaze moving up and down his body before she speaks. She clears her throat, turning her head to the side, a basket of laundry still in her hands.

“You’re here harassing my daughter, why?”

Laurent crosses his arms over his chest, looking down his nose at her. “I believe that she has something that belongs to me.”

I open my mouth to tell him that a person cannot belong to him and to tell him to get the fuck out when my mom speaks first.

“And I believe you can turn around and walk away. Today is not the day.”

Laurent opens his mouth to say something, no doubt it would have been a smart-ass remark, but he doesn’t get the chance. My mother takes a step backward inside the apartment and grasps the door before slamming it shut, then flipping the lock closed.

“Mom,” I gasp.

She turns to me. “So that’s the father, huh? Once again you picked a beautiful, full of himself, asshole.”

“I know,” I admit on a sigh. “I know.”