“And she went,” Ivy remarks bluntly.
“She claimed that she thought other people were going to be there. She never assumed he’d only wanted to talk to her,” Tim relates, raising his eyebrows speculatively. “But when she got there, he was waiting with a bottle of wine, his jacket off, his tie hanging loosely around his neck.”
“And she went in thinking what? He just wanted to talk?” Eric sputters. “Give me a break.”
“She said that’s all they did. He didn’t even try to kiss her. And we both know he would’ve spooked her if he’d tried anything,” Tim says, casting a sideways glance at me. “That’s why I think it continued after that, because he truly had her convinced that he wasn’t like that.”
“What do you mean by continued?” I question, sitting forward.
“He kept popping up whenever she’d least expect it. One time, he had his driver pull up next to her when she walking back from class and he invited her to join him for coffee. Another time, he claimed he saw her through the window of the laundromat on a Friday afternoon. So he wandered in and asked if he could give her a ride home for the weekend because he was headed there too,” Tim groans, thinking back on it all. “He was too smooth, and she fell for it.”
“So they were having these long conversations, but that’s it?” Ivy asks, trying to get a handle on it.
“Yeah. She said he was a perfect gentleman. She even felt sorry for him because of how lonely he seemed,” Tim replies, tilting his head. “His wife was an alcoholic. His son hated him. He had no one in his life who cared about him.”
“So he made her feel like she was someone special,” I state, picking up the narrative. “The one who was always there for him when he needed her.”
“Pretty much,” Tim agrees, nodding at me. “He flattered her, sent her flowers, called her just to ask her how her day was going. He gave her all the attention she wasn’t getting from you.”
“But how did her parents get involved?” I inquire, dreading his response.
“They saw who was driving their daughter home on weekends. She couldn’t hide it from them when they questioned her about who the town car with the tinted glass belonged to. She said Conrad was just a friend giving her a lift. That’s all. But they didn’t buy it,” Tim relates, shedding more light on the situation. “They sat her down and got it all out of her. It was common knowledge that Conrad’s marriage was on the rocks. Everyone in town knew it. And they saw an opportunity their daughter could capitalize on.”
“They went along with it?” I ask, unable to fathom the idea. “They didn’t want me to be alone with her…ever, but they were okay with her spending hour upon hour with Conrad Price?”
“What can I say? Money talks,” Tim replies cuttingly.
“Mr. Price and Cassidy?” Ivy balks. “What is the world coming to?”
“But it didn’t stay so innocent, did it?” I press him.
“Are you kidding? Knowing the kind of man he is?” Tim smirks, not even bothering to hide his disgust. “Once she saw how much her parents wholeheartedly approved of him, it wasn’t long before he convinced her to start spending the night at his place.”
“Was she even sorry?” I interrogate him. “Did I really mean that little to her?”
“She said, after the fact, that she couldn’t face you. That’s why she started avoiding your calls,” Tim admits somewhat sympathetically. “She was so caught up in this thing with Conrad. It was exciting to her. The two of you had known each other since you were kids, and this was a thrill she never experienced before. She got swept away in her infatuation with him—the late-night candlelit dinners, the weekends at his lodge, the last-minute jaunts to New York. Who could compete with that?”
“Then why didn’t she break it off with me?” I ask heatedly as Ivy starts stroking my arm to calm me down.
“She was going to,” Tim responds, uttering the crushing blow. “He kept telling her that he was going to leave his wife, that she made him feel young again, that she was all that he wanted. But then she got pregnant, and everything changed.”
“You’re not saying…?” I blurt out.
“Yep. Turns out it wasn’t yours. It wasn’t mine. It was undeniably his,” Tim states, holding nothing back.
I get to my feet, shrugging Ivy off. I can’t sit back and listen to this. I have to get out of here. I can’t stomach hearing any more.
“Eric?” Ivy looks at me nervously. “You don’t know that. Nobody knows that. It still could’ve been yours.”