Chapter 2
They say love makes you stupid. Well, I was proof.
But now, this girl was wide awake.
And his nightmare was just beginning.
That afternoon, Sophie and I walked into the local luxury car dealership.
One of Eric's friends was a manager there. I had preordered a new Range Rover that had just come in. It was supposed to be a surprise for Eric. But I changed my mind now.
And, of course, there Eric was, holding court with a few of his buddies.
He shot me a smug look and said, loud enough for me to hear, "See? Told you she'd be here. Three days is her limit. She can't handle being without me."
His voice dripped with condescending pride.
"Trust me, I have her wrapped around my finger. She can't live without me."
"You're the master, Mr. Grant," the manager gushed. "I'll just go have Ms. Summers sign the papers."
He scurried over to me, but I spoke before he could, "I'm canceling the Range Rover."
His professional smile faltered. "Cancel? But Ms. Summers, the deposit..."
"I'll take that Ferrari instead," I said, nodding toward a gleaming red sports car on the showroom floor.
"Of course! An excellent choice for a lady. But did you check with Mr. Grant? To see what he thinks?"
"I'm buying the car for me. I don't need his opinion. Run the card."
The manager scurried back to Eric, whose face instantly darkened. He and his friends stormed over.
"Come on, Ms. Summers, still mad?" one of them said with a wheedling smile. "Eric was just drunk the other night. Don't take it so personally."
Drunk? I nearly laughed out loud.
He hadn't had a single drop. I had been the one drinking for him.
Sophie had had enough, snapping, "Are you guys for real? Charlotte's buying her own damn car. Why would she need his permission? Manager, are you going to sell her the car or not? Because we can leave."
The manager looked nervously between us. "Mr. Grant, I..."
Eric fixed me with a glare. "My friends are here, Charlotte. Don't make a scene. Just pay for the Range Rover," he muttered impatiently.
"If you want a Range Rover, buy it yourself," Sophie shot back. "No one's stopping you."
"Let her speak for herself!" Eric barked. "Which car are you buying?"
A cold laugh escaped me. He was so unbelievably arrogant.
"Sophie's right," I said, my voice like ice. "I'm here for the Ferrari. If you want the Range Rover, you can pay for it."
His face contorted with shock. He had never heard me talk to him like that.
His eyes went cold. "Charlotte, you will buy this Range Rover today. Or you'll regret it," he warned.
I looked him straight in the eye, arguing, "Eric, for two years, I let you treat me like a doormat. I'm done.
"Manager, if you don't want to make the sale, fine. Keep the deposit. Sophie, let's go."
"Wait! No! We'll sell!" the manager stammered, turning to Eric. "Sorry, Mr. Grant, but it's her money."
Card swiped, papers signed, I slid into the driver's seat of my brand-new Ferrari.
It was amazing how much money I had when I wasn't funding Eric's entire life.
He knocked on the window. I powered it down.
He leaned in, letting out a low sneer. "Are you done with your little tantrum?"
Suddenly, I couldn't stand the sight of him.
"Get your face away from my car," I snapped. "You're making me sick."
I slammed my foot on the gas and peeled out of the parking lot.
In the rearview mirror, I saw him standing there, glaring after me.
Honestly, I found it hilarious.