Chapter 17: Her Price

The text came on Thursday afternoon, from a number I hadn't blocked yet.

My opening is tonight at seven. I owe you the truth and I'd like to say it to your face. Please come. L.

Rafe read it over my shoulder.

"It's a trap," he said.

"I know."

"Then why are you putting on your coat?"

"Because if I don't go, she'll say I'm too scared to look at her."

He drove me to Tribeca and parked in front of the gallery, and he said he would be right there.

I'd heard that before.

I liked it better each time.

The gallery was one big white room full of Lacey's paintings.

I hadn't seen them since art school, and they were better than I'd feared.

There were thirty or forty people drinking from plastic cups.

Some of them had watched the livestream.

I could tell by the way their eyes slid off me and came back.

Lacey stood under the biggest canvas in a black dress cut low, with one hand spread flat on her stomach.

She saw me come in, and her eyes filled.

Perfectly.

The room went quiet as she crossed it, and three phones came up.

"Jo," she said, and her voice broke on the first letter. "You came."

"I came."

"I wanted everyone to hear this."

She took both my hands, and hers were cold and trembling.

"I was jealous, and I was a coward, and I did something unforgivable. I'm so sorry."

"I'm going to be a mother, and I don't want my baby born into this."

Keep reading free with an account. Start I Lost To His E-Cup Mistress from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.