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We’re just about to the bridge, when she clears her throat. “Look, Mr. Sterling, I intend to pay you back for the clothes. I shouldn’t have let you pay for them in the first place. I don’t know why I did it, actually.”
“You don’t have to pay me back,” I say. “It was nothing. And I think we should dispense with the formalities, Gwendolyn. We were just married, after all.”
She grins for a second, then as quickly as it comes, it disappears. “No, it was definitely something. Maybe not for you, but for me. Besides, accepting them sends the wrong message.”
“What message is that?” I ask, stuffing my hands in my pockets to warm them up.
“I don’t know. That I’m the type of woman who lets men buy her expensive things?”
Raising one eyebrow, I say, “Is that a thing?”
“Yes, it’s a thing. I believe you referred to them as gold diggers earlier.”
“I don’t think you’re a gold digger. Not in the traditional sense, anyway.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re here to get money, but not for yourself. It’s for your whole team.”
“Yes, I am, which is why I’m going to pay you back.”
I stop walking and she does the same. “Look, I didn’t want to embarrass you back there, but I could tell that it was an amount of money you weren’t comfortable spending.”
“I have the money, I just…” She trails off and starts walking again.
Catching up, I say, “You just what?”
“Would’ve needed two different cards to pay for it,” she says, her tone telling me she did not want to admit that. “I’ve had a lot of expenses lately, not that I expect you to understand.”
“I understand what it’s like to cut it close every month.”
“You do not.”
“I do. I’ve lived paycheck to paycheck.”
“What? Were you spending seven figures a month or something?”
“No, I didn’t exactly grow up with much, and when I was in college, I was so broke I worked at a bar just so I could get free food. And the first few years that Richard and I were building our company? Totally broke ass broke.” I smile, remembering the crappy basement suite he, Michael, and I shared. “If I had seven dollars at the end of the month, it was a hell of a good month.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that about you.”
“Did you assume I was born rich?”
She nods.
“Most people do,” I tell her. “But I wasn’t. Lower middle-class family until my father left us. Then we became a lower low-class family.”
Gwen looks up at me and I can see she’s almost as surprised as I am that I’m saying any of this. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. You weren’t the dirt bag who abandoned a wife and two sons—one of them autistic and needing special care.”
“Was that who you were talking to earlier? Your brother?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Were you accidentally tuning into my conversation?”
“I really couldn’t help it. That wall was very thin.”
“Yes, that was Michael. He lives with me.”
