Page 71 of Can't Win 'Em All
The truth was, ever since Rex told me he had feelings for me—beyond the baby and just sex—I’d been doing a lot of daydreaming. He wasn’t boyfriend material yet—that was a hill I would die on—but he was getting there. Slowly but surely.
The fact that he texted to know what I wanted for lunch every day was proof that he was reliable.
The massages he provided for my feet multiple times a day proved he had empathy. He saw I was in pain and wanted to end it.
Even the scene at the ice cream shop proved that he was looking out for me on every level imaginable.
It was the bear that had really done it for me, though. That stupid bear that I wanted when I was a teenager even though I couldn’t explain why. There hadn’t been a lot of comfort in our house when we were kids and we’d all been searching in our own way. The bear had looked comforting through the window. My father, who bought anything and everything, had sneered at the bear. That only made me want it more.
I’d told Rex about the bear in an offhand fashion. I didn’t need to justify what I wanted to do to my nursery. He wouldn’t have cared either way. He listened to the story anyway, then went out of his way to get the bear. And not for the baby, but for me. He’d been specific. He wanted me to have that bear.
It wasn’t that it was likely a two-hundred-dollar bear either. It was that he remembered my angst at not having the bear, and he’d managed to track one down without knowing where to look. That would’ve taken him ten times as long as it did me to find bears for the nursery.
Just thinking about it made me misty.
“Your mistress gave birth?” Opal challenged. “How did I miss that?”
“She sent out birth announcements,” Pearl replied. “They had clowns on them.”
Opal visibly shuddered. “Well, that explains it. I wouldn’t open anything with a clown on it. I’m sure it went straight into the trash.”
“I told her those clowns were a bad idea.” Dad wrinkled his nose. “Anyway, I’m not talking about the baby. I’m talking about my divorce. It was finalized today.”
I was caught off guard. It wasn’t that I didn’t know my parents were getting a divorce. Who could blame them? It was that I’d lost track of it amidst all of my stuff. I jerked my eyes to Mom to register how she was feeling about the situation. “Congratulations?” It was more of a question than a statement.
She smirked at my uncertainty. “I’ll be celebrating properly this evening. I’m going out with Cassie and Blair.” She shot a glare toward Dad. “I didn’t think this was the proper place for a celebration.”
“I’m the one who has more to celebrate,” Dad fired back. “That’s why I’m so excited.”
“What exactly are you celebrating?” Zach challenged. The tilt of his head was a warning that our father should tread carefully. “I mean … are you celebrating the fact that you’re broke?” He glanced at Mom. “He didn’t get anything extra in the divorce, did he?”
Mom chuckled at Zach’s obvious worry. “He did not. He got to retain his shares on the board. He tried for a redistribution of my shares there at the end, but when my attorney explained to the judge exactly why Ryder had been stripped of his shares, he not-unsurprisingly sided with me.”
Zach smirked. “Bummer, huh?” he taunted Dad.
For his part, Dad was managing to hold it together, but just barely. “As always, your personality has all the appeal of a wet rag, Zachary,” he drawled.
“I love you too, Dad,” Zach shot back in the same tone.
“The good news is that the state of Nevada says I no longer have to pretend to love him,” Mom offered. “In case you’re wondering, I got the house and the bulk of the shares in Stone Group. He got his condo, his vehicles, and the shares he was allotted last year when things hit the fan. That’s basically it.”
“That’s still more than he deserved,” Zach said darkly.
Dad glared right back, then he adopted a benevolent smile—Mother Theresa had nothing on him—before addressing the room. “Since nobody congratulated me on my new daughter,” he started. His lips curved into a sneer, telling me exactly what he thought about having another daughter. I would’ve laughed at his luck if I didn’t feel sorry for the kid. “I thought perhaps tonight would be a good night to go out as a family—you already have plans so you can stick to them, Cora—and celebrate new beginnings.”
“Are you really sitting there telling us that you think we should celebrate you having a baby with your mistress and our mother divorcing you?” Zach demanded.
“Your mother is the devil.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you have that role covered,” I replied, my fingers absently trailing over my stomach. I hadn’t popped to basketball size yet but I knew it was right around the corner. I was down to twelve weeks left and they were ticking by at a fantastic rate. The doctor had warned me I would pop at any time, and when I did, my body was going to take a beating. I would feel tired doing even the simplest things. I was determined to prove him wrong on that one.
“Your sarcasm is a gift, Ruby,” Dad countered, causing me to smirk. “I can’t wait until you get a dose of karma with your little one there.” He pointed toward my stomach. Then, to my surprise, he turned serious. “You’re feeling okay, right?”
Was he kidding me with this? “Since when do you care?” I challenged.
“I’ve always cared, Ruby. You’ve simply never looked beyond the businessman and embraced the father.”
That was the corniest thing I’d ever heard. The snickers erupting from my siblings suggested they felt the same way. “You read that in a book, didn’t you?”
