Breakfast in Bed

chapter 17


RICH WATCHED AS THE STEWARTS WALKED ARM IN ARM toward the train. He offered them a lift to the station, but they claimed they needed to walk off all they ate. They did eat a lot, but then, no one could resist Aunt Rose's lasagna.
He was pretty pleased with himself. The dinner went well, and after Becca's initial reaction to the news of his "promotion" and that stupid remark Craig made about her family, she calmed down and did her queen-of-all-things perfect hostess shtick. Damn, the girl knew how to drive him crazy. He must have imagined peeling that dress off her a dozen times. It was soft and clingy and didn't have one button or zipper. His guess was that it was one of those dresses you can pull up, and it would stay up while you did whatever you wanted. He couldn't wait and hoped to God she wouldn't insist on doing the dishes tonight. He'd gladly do all the dishes in the morning if he could just get his hands on her tonight.
He made his way into the house. The table still needed to be cleared, and the dishes done, and Becca was nowhere to be seen. He checked the bedroom hoping she hadn't already changed out of that hot dress. Instead of finding her changing, he caught her packing. Rich stopped dead in his tracks, unable to believe his eyes. She had her suitcase thrown open on the bed and was tossing her clothes in without even folding them. Becca always folded everything, even her underwear.
"Why are you packing?"
She glanced at him without ever stopping. "Someone with three post-secondary degrees should be smart enough to figure that out for himself, don't you think?"
"Becca, hold on." He stepped between her and the closet. "Calm down and talk to me."
"Calm down? You want me to calm down after you used me, f*cked me over, and sold me out. Not likely. How about I tell you calmly to get the hell out of my way?"
"No." Rich grabbed a handful of clothes sticking out of her bag, still on their hangers, and put them back in the closet. "I didn't sell you out. The only reason I agreed to the dinner was for you."
Becca looked about to clock him. He figured even if she hit him with that bat of hers, it would hurt a hell of a lot less than it would if she walked out on him.
"Ha! That's just so like you, isn't it? You think you can stand there looking all innocent, lie to my face, and get away with it. I know I was a fool to fall for you, but believe me, I won't make the same mistake twice. Now get the hell out of my way." She pushed past him. "You got what you wanted from the deal. You got your precious job."
Rich was beginning to sweat, which kind of freaked him out. He just wanted to grab her and make her listen to reason, but she was way past reasonable. "Babe, I don't care about the job. I just care about you, and I know how much you were counting on this thing with Emily."
"Oh yeah, and you took full advantage, didn't you? You pimped out my name. Did you tell them that I'd make sure Daddy sent a nice check to the alumni association if they gave my boyfriend a job?"
Okay, now Rich was getting angry. "Hey, I don't need your name or your daddy's money to get a job. If it wasn't for you, I would have canceled the dinner."
"But you didn't, did you? What, did you need to seal the deal?"
Rich couldn't believe his ears. This was a f*ckin' nightmare, and there was nothing he could do to prove himself. But worse, how could she think he would hurt her so badly? His guts tightened up. Christ, what was he going to do?
She started throwing all her clothes from the drawers into another suitcase. "I was such a fool, falling for your act. You're good. Offering me money was ingenious. I gotta hand it to you—of all the guys who went after my money, you were by far the most original."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"You thought you could get a two-fer. My trust fund and a great job. So what'd you do, Rich? When you were snooping through my artwork and my underwear, you checked out my portfolio, too?"
"Bec. Stop this. I love you. I love you and want to marry you. I don't give a shit how much money you do or don't have. Babe, I should have told you what Craig said, but I thought you'd refuse to let Emily see your work, and I wasn't sure if you could afford to miss this chance with Emily. After you lost all that money that went to Mike, can you afford to keep working on your art? Are you going to have to get a job? I don't want you to have to do that. I can, you know, support you."
"Rich, let me give you a hint. You can stop the act now. It's over."
"What's over?"
"This sham. You got most of what you wanted. Just be happy with that, and let me get the hell out of here."
Rich stood between her and the door. Not before she calmed down enough to talk sense into her. "Becca, it's late. You can't travel when you're so upset. Just stay here. I'll sleep on the couch if you want me to. We'll talk tomorrow after you calm down."
"No way. I'm outta here."
"Not until you calm down and talk to me."
"Oh right. Who's going to stop me?"
"I am. You're not going anywhere until after you've calmed down, and we've had a rational discussion."
"Are you delusional? Nothing that you say tomorrow is going to change my mind. You're a liar. A really good liar. I thought I could spot them all. Well, you got by me, you lied to me, and I fell hook, line, and sinker in love with you, and you would have had me if you hadn't gone off and proposed."
Damn, she looked just about ready to crumble. She stood board straight, all strong and pissed, but every now and then, he'd see that hurt little girl. Christ, she thought he was just like those bozo friends of hers, her mother, and sometimes even her father. Shit. He just wanted to grab her, hold her, and tell her it would be all right. But she'd already convicted him.
Rich went to his side of the bed and grabbed a pillow. "I'll be out on the couch when you decide you want to talk to me."
"Don't hold your breath, or on second thought, do."
"Bec, I didn't do any of those things. Once you look at this rationally, you'll see. I love you."
"Please just go. Please?" A big tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another, and another. Each one was like a punch in the gut and made him want to hit every person who'd ever hurt her. Himself included. He'd f*cked up royally.
As soon as Rich left the room, Becca tried to pull herself together. She needed a plan. She grabbed her notebook and turned to a fresh page in her book and her life. She needed to find a place to live. She wouldn't survive living with Mike and Annabelle. Their incessant happiness would only highlight everything Becca didn't have in her life. She swallowed back a sob, cleared her throat, and looked for her phone. She could stay at a hotel, but as soon as Annabelle found out where Becca was, she'd be dragged back to the brownstone. Right now, Becca just wanted to be alone to lick her wounds and figure out how to get past this.
The other day when she'd met the appraiser at the gallery to get an appraisal on the value of the building, she'd done a walk-through of Ben's place, which was currently empty, since Ben was spending an extended period of time in Idaho . It would be perfect for her. She thanked God for the two-hour time difference and called Ben in Idaho .
"Hi gorgeous."
"Hi Ben."
"Why are you whispering?"
"Because I don't want Rich to hear me."
"Trouble in paradise?"
"More like a nuclear explosion. I need a place to stay, and I don't think I can take staying with Mike and Annabelle. Can I crash at your place until the construction is finished on mine?"
"Don't you mean our place?"
"Hey, nothing's been signed. Until then, it's your place. So what do you say?"
"Becca, it's fine. Are you going to be okay alone? Maybe you should go to Annabelle's."
"I'm a big girl. I've spent most of my life alone. I'll be fine." Maybe if she kept repeating that, she'd start to believe it. Right now she felt physical pain. She hurt everywhere.
"What about the keys?"
"I have a set. I needed them when I met with the appraiser the other night."
"Okay, good. Go ahead and make yourself at home. You can use the guest room for as long as you want. It looks like I'll be staying here for a while. Just take care of yourself, and let me know if you need anything."
"Um, Ben, how are you with cats?"
"Other than allergic?"
"Oh. Okay. I can probably leave Tripod with Rich until my place is finished. If not, maybe Mike and Annabelle can take him."
"I'm sorry, Becca."
"No, it's fine. Thanks so much, Ben. I'll be in touch about the deal. It's looking really good to me right about now."
"I'm ready to finalize things whenever you are. If you want to move up the date, it's not a problem."
"I'll think about it. Thanks again for everything. I owe you one."
When Becca disconnected the call, she looked around her at her packed luggage. She knew she was going to have to start building her new life all over again. She'd leave with less than she came with, because Rich had stolen her heart, and no matter how little sense it made, she still loved him. She wished love could be turned off, but no matter how hurt and angry she was, she still felt it. Even knowing what he'd done, she missed him. And even with all the pain he caused her, she wished she could go back to being blissfully unaware. She wrapped her arms around herself and lost the battle with tears.

Rich sat on the couch listening to Becca cry. Every sob was a knife to his heart. He forced himself to listen, wanting to break the door down, gather her in his arms, and make it better. But how? She wouldn't even look at him. He'd never felt so damn helpless. The situation had spiraled out of control, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it.
He'd lost her, and Christ, he had no idea what to do to get her back. Tripod crawled onto his lap and lay against Rich's chest. "I f*cked up bad, buddy."
Tripod responded with something that sounded amazingly like "now what?"
"I don't know. I don't know what I can say to make her believe me." Rich shook his head wondering if he was going off the deep end. Maybe this was what insanity was like. If it was, it sucked, it hurt, and he had a feeling it was just going to get worse—not that it really mattered. Nothing mattered anymore, not without Becca. He took another sip of his Jack Daniels. Drinking was probably not a smart thing to do since drinking Jack Daniels was what got him in this position in the first place. He needed to find a way to make things right. Rich pulled his phone off the charger and called Vinny.
"F*ck, Richie. What the hell are you doing calling me at one in the morning?"
"I got a problem."
"Just one? What the hell do you want me to do about it?"
"Vin, she's leaving me."
"Whoa, okay. What the hell did you do?"
"I asked her to marry me on Monday—"
"And I'm just hearing about this now? What the f*ck?"
"She didn't say yes."
"What the hell did she say?"
"When I asked? Nothing. Then later she was all suspicious. 'Why did you ask me to marry you?' like I had some kind of ulterior motive."
"You did. You were afraid you were going to lose her. I guess I should have warned you not to pull a stupid stunt like that, but I didn't think even you'd be that dumb."
"Thanks, Vin. You're making me feel so much better."
"Eh? What do you want from me? Do you want me to help you, or do you want me to be like one of your professor friends and blow sunshine up your ass?"
"Christ, what am I gonna do? She's packing her things and crying. I hurt her, Vin. Dean Stewart told her I got the promotion and that with her family connections and her rich father, I could go far. She thinks I used her to get my job, and that by marrying her, getting her trust fund is like a two-fer."
"Look, the bar is open. Why don't you come down here, and we'll, you know, think of something."
Rich took a sip of his drink and ran his hand over Tripod's stomach. "I can't. If I leave, so will Becca."
"What are you doing? Holding her hostage or something?"
"No, but I'll be damned if I let her leave me without at least talking about this. Vin, she thinks I used her. She thinks I lied to her—that I'm after her money or somethin'. I made her cry."
"F*ck, I hate it when they cry. I'd rather have a freakin' rectal exam than have to listen to Mona cry. But Richie, you can't make her stay, and you can't make her talk to you. All you can do is let her go and then do everything you can to get her back. Prove to her she's wrong about you. She is, isn't she?"
"F*ck you."
"Eh, I gotta ask. It's Mickey's little sister we're talkin' about here. If you hurt her on purpose, we're gonna have words."
"I hurt her, but I didn't mean to. Shit. You're not helping at all."
"You want help? Here's what you do. You get on your f*ckin' knees and beg her to give you another chance. Grovel, and if that don't work, you're gonna have to prove her wrong and pray to God she comes back to you."
"How the f*ck am I supposed to prove her wrong?"
"I don't know. One thing at a time. You gotta try groveling."
"I did. She won't listen."
"Fine, then I guess we gotta figure out a plan B, but you better make sure she's the one for you, because I gotta feeling you've got a hell of a lot of work to do. She's a hard one, your Becca. She ain't like the girls you're used to dealing with."
"Don't I know it."

Becca didn't sleep; she tossed and turned and cried. Her migraine was so bad, it hurt to think, but she couldn't turn off her brain. After waiting hours, Rich finally fell into a hard sleep and started snoring. She tiptoed out of the bedroom, praying she could get past Tripod without him sounding the alarm. When she saw the two of them curled up on the couch together, she realized Tripod was more Rich's cat than hers. Just one more thing Rich stole from her.
Tears burned her already raw eyes as she slipped out the door and headed to Ben's place alone.

Becca let herself in and sat in the dark living room trying to figure out what to do next. Cold and exhausted, she curled up in an oversized chair and pulled a throw around her. She'd just fallen asleep when her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. It was Rich. She waited for it to go into voice mail and called her brother. He picked up. "Hey Bec, what's got you up so early?"
"Mike? Could you do me a favor?"
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need some help. I'm at Ben's place. Rich and I split up—"
"I'll kill him."
"Mike, Rich is your brother-in-law, and this has nothing to do with you, so for the sake of your marriage, just stay the hell out of it. If you can't, you'll be no help to me."
"What do you need, Bec?"
"My luggage. I packed but left after Rich fell asleep, and I can't handle seeing him right now. It's over, and I don't feel the need to rehash the whole thing. I just need you to pick up my bags and make sure it's okay for Tripod to stay there until I can move into my own place."
"You just left without even talking to him? What are you running away from?"
"Nothing."
"Did he hurt you?"
Becca wiped a tear from her eye and heard Annabelle in the background. "Of course he didn't hurt her."
"Becca, it's me. What happened? Are you okay? Where are you?"
"I'm fine. I'm at Ben's, and God, Annabelle, I left Rich. It's over." Becca sobbed. "I'm sorry. I can't talk. Could you just get my stuff from the apartment and don't let the guys beat each other up?"
"Sure, I'll be there in a little while."
"No—" She was speaking to dead air. Shit, Becca just wanted to be alone to wallow in her misery. Now she was going to have to deal with Annabelle.

Vinny got up early as usual, and twenty minutes later, Nick was on the line calling for backup. He asked if Vinny could meet him and Mickey at Rich's apartment to haul out Becca's stuff. Which was just what Vinny wanted to do on a Sunday morning. Still, it was probably a smart move considering Mike and Richie almost came to blows when Rich and Becca were just dating. Once Mickey heard that Richie made Becca cry, he was going to want to rearrange Rich's face.
Vinny showed up early at Richie's place and thought that maybe he could have most of Becca's things packed out before Mickey showed up. He pressed the button on the intercom. "Eh, Richie. Open up. It's me, Vinny."
"Okay." Rich buzzed him through the security door and had the apartment door opened before Vinny got there. Rich looked like shit.
"How you doin', Vin?"
"Better than you. But then most people on life support would look better than you." Now this was what a man looked like when the woman he loves dumped him.
Vinny looked around the apartment. Everything was neat, clean, and normal except for the three-legged cat sitting on the coffee table drinking out of a big ass coffee cup. "You got a cat?"
"Tripod's Becca's cat."
"I guess you didn't do too good keeping Becca from leaving."
"I must have fallen asleep, and she snuck out. I've been trying to call her. She's not answering."
"I guess right now she don't want to talk to you. But it's a good sign that she wanted to make sure her big brother didn't beat the shit out of you. Your sisters and Becca sent Nick to babysit Mickey, and I'm assigned to you, so don't pull no shit, okay?"
Rich sat back down. "I don't want to fight with Mike. I want him to help me get through to Becca. She won't listen to me."
"And you think Mike's gonna want to listen to you?"
"You got any better ideas?"
"Actually, no. I don't."
The door buzzed, and the cat ran for it. Richie picked up the cat. "I'm going to lock Tripod in the mud room so he can't escape. You want to let Nick and Mike in?"
"Sure." Vinny buzzed them in and opened the door. Once Mickey got a glimpse at how pathetic Richie looked, he lost the murderous gleam in his eyes.
Richie stood his ground, not lookin' like a wimp, but he wasn't the same cocky bastard he usually was either. It takes a real woman to take a man like Richie and cut him off at the knees. It looked as if that was exactly what Becca had done.
Rich nodded. "Hey Mike. Nick."
The three of them stood with their hands in their pockets, staring at each other.
Vinny wanted to smack them all upside the head. He got both Richie and Mickey, but Nick was too quick and ducked. "Come on, yous guys. It's obvious Richie f*cked up and wants Becca back. I know for a fact that everyone in this room has been in Richie's shoes, so the least we can do is listen to what he's gotta say."
Rich shrugged. "Yeah, what he said. I f*cked up."
Mike rolled back on his heels. "Well, that's obvious. Why don't you tell me something I don't know, like why my little sister is crying her eyes out over you?"
Rich held up his hands. "Shit, okay, I'll tell you, but you gotta help me get her back."
Mike crossed his arms over his chest, and he and Richie just stared at each other.
"Mike, I love her. I didn't do anything wrong. Well, okay, I f*cked up, but I didn't do what she thinks I did." He ran his hand through his hair. "I need some coffee. You guys want some?"
Nick followed Rich to the kitchen and leaned against the breakfast bar. "Are you makin' it?"
Rich turned and laughed. "Yeah, I learned how to make a damn good pot of coffee, brought Becca coffee and breakfast in bed every morning, and she still dumped me."
Vinny and Mike went to join Nick. The kitchen was immaculate. Vin smiled. He always liked a clean kitchen. Even the dishwasher was running. "You did the dishes from last night?"
"Yeah, I was hoping Becca would come back for her stuff so we could talk. She taught me how to clean, so I've been straightening up. I washed the tablecloth and napkins and vacuumed. It's hard to sit still."
Nick watched Rich count out scoops of coffee. "Yeah, I always clean when I get stressed."
Mike nodded. "It's really relaxing, and at least you feel as if you're accomplishing something instead of just pacing the floor."
Rich looked up from what he was doing. "It sounds like you've been there."
Vinny rolled his eyes. "Okay, it looks like I gotta play Doctor Phil or somethin'—just don't expect me to get teary-eyed or nothin', okay?" He ran his hand through what was left of his hair. "Rich, why don't you tell Nick and Mike what landed you in deep shit?"
"Okay. I told you what my boss said on Monday, right? Dean Stewart said because I got Becca by my side, I'd go far. Her dad's an alum, and well, she's got this queen-of-all-things act, which means she's great at the schmoozin' professors and deans have to do. Now, when he said that, I was pissed. After all, I'm a really good professor, and it shouldn't matter who I'm with."
Vinny cleared his throat. "Come on, Richie, we're aging here. We ain't got all day."
Rich took cups from the cabinet and piled them into the microwave and turned it on. "I was afraid that if I told Becca what Dean Stewart said, she'd freak out."
Vinny groaned. "You might want to tell them about your dumb-ass move now."
Rich took the cups out of the microwave and groaned. "I asked her to marry me."
Vinny shook his head. "Yeah, a dumb-ass move especially when she didn't say yes."
Rich cringed. "Thanks for reminding me. She didn't say anything. Then when she finally did talk, she asked to table the whole marriage discussion."
Vinny grabbed the coffeepot. Shit, if he was going to wait for Richie to pour, he'd be there all day. "That was until the dinner when the dean spilled the beans."
Rich passed around the cream and sugar. "Yeah, at first Becca was pissed, then she seemed to be fine."
Nick stirred his coffee. "Oh man, when a woman goes from pissed to fine in a blink of an eye, that's the time to start sleeping with one eye open."
Richie nodded. "Right. See there I was thinking everything was copacetic. I walked Dean Stewart and Emily out, and when I come back in, Becca's packin' her stuff. When I asked what the f*ck was goin' on, she's calling me a liar and a user and said that I only proposed to her to get the job and her trust fund. She accused me of looking though her investment portfolio."
Nick shook his head. "Man, that's harsh."
"I know I f*cked up. I should have told her about what the dean said. But it's not like she's been one hundred percent straight with me either. When we went to Philly we ran into some a*sholes who claim to be her friends, and they said that most of the money in her trust fund went to Mike. So I'm thinking she might be hurtin' for funds and might have to get a job instead of working on her art, so I offered to lend her money if she needed it."
Mike laughed. "Rich, she's hardly destitute."
"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that? Have you ever seen how the girl dresses?"
Vinny, Mike, and Nick all nodded. Vinny took a sip of his coffee and was surprised by how good it was. "She's usually in clothes ten times too big."
Rich took a drink and rummaged through the refrigerator and pulled out a tray of biscotti left over from last night. "When she dresses up, let me tell you, she's gorgeous. Last week at that ball, I was wishin' she'd wear another one of her potato sacks. I felt more like a bodyguard than a date."
Mike sat on the stool and took a bite out of his biscotti. "So what are you going to do?"
Rich shook his head. "What can I do? I told her I love her, I want to marry her, and I didn't do all those things she accused me of, but it's not like I can prove it." He stared into his coffee cup as if it was a crystal ball.
Mike shook his head. "I don't know, man. That's rough. You should have seen Becca the day our dad said he'd gotten her work into an art gallery because he got the owner's son into med school. She flipped out. She's real sensitive about that."
Vinny finished his coffee and sat the cup down. "It looks to me like you two have some communicatin' to do."
Rich ran a frustrated hand through his hair that was already standing on end. "Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to communicate with her when she won't even talk to me?"
Nick, Vinny, and Mike all answered at the same time. "You have to wear her down."
Rich blew out a breath. "Yeah, thanks for the advice. It helps a lot."
Vinny walked around the bar into the kitchen and threw his arm around Richie. "We'll work on her too, and I'm sure Mickey and Nick will talk to Annabelle and Rosalie. Once they find out what happened, they'll take your side."
Richie didn't look like he believed them, but really, there wasn't much he could do. His face brightened when he looked at Mike. "I guess I can drop by your place and maybe bump into her."
Mike took the last sip of his coffee and walked to the sink to rinse his cup. "She's not with us, and I'm not allowed to tell you where she's staying. I've been sworn to secrecy. Give it some time, Rich. If she's in love with you, she'll have as hard a time being away from you as you will being away from her. If she doesn't, it's not meant to be."
Nick nodded. "Man, when Lee and I hit the skids, it was the worst month of my life. Christ, I'm so glad I'm not you."
Mike left the kitchen and walked toward the bedrooms. "Rich, you couldn't take pity on me and move her freakin' bags into the guest room?"
Rich shrugged. "What's the point? You practically caught us in the act the last time you stopped by. Do you pretend you're not sleeping with my sister?"
"I married your sister."
"Sure, and I'm doing my best to marry yours, so get over it already."
"Fine. Oh, I almost forgot. Becca can't take the cat until she moves into the brownstone. She asked if you'd take care of him. Either that, or I'll have to take him to my place, and it's not good for pregnant women to be around litter boxes, so I'd like to avoid that."
Rich nodded. "It's fine. I guess she'll have to get in touch with me eventually if she wants the little guy back. Not to mention all the artwork."
When they had all of Becca's things packed into the van Nick brought, Richie looked even worse than he did when they got there. Vin gave him a hug before he left, and he could swear he saw Richie's eyes watering. The poor guy. "We'll work on it from our end. You work on it from yours. And remember, when you see her, you grovel. It's worth the embarrassment every time."
Rich turned around, and Vinny let him. He didn't want to see a grown man cry any more than Rich wanted to be seen. "Thanks for coming by. I'll see ya. Oh, and let me know how Becca is, okay?"