“That you’re his ex.” The tissue crumpled in her fist. “It all makes sense to me now.”
A frisson of panic gripped my chest. I had the feeling she was about to reveal an unpleasant truth. “It’s not a secret.” I schooled my features into ambivalence and took a place beside her at the mirror. “It’s a matter of public record.”
“I wondered why he wanted you around when you’re so obviously not right for Infinity, or him.” Her pale blue eyes studied me. “And now I get it.” I focused on my reflection and pretended to repair my makeup. “It’s all about revenge and power for him. You’re just another piece in his chess game, and he’ll throw you away when he’s done with you. Like he always does.”
Knives of insecurity sliced through my fragile self-confidence. “I wonder what he’ll say when I tell him you were talking to his father?” I tried to touch up my lipstick with a trembling hand.
She smiled. “Does it really matter? He won’t believe you anyway. We both know he doesn’t trust you out of his sight.”
She’d put into words the very thoughts plaguing my subconscious for the last few weeks. I scrambled to hold my control in place, not wanting to give her any indication how her confession affected me. I tossed my lipstick into my clutch and turned to leave.
“I was there for him,” she said to my back. “I put the pieces back together when he was broken. I saw how much he hated you for it. Don’t make the mistake of thinking he cares for you.”
My hand was on the door to leave, but something stopped me from escaping. The whole situation with Sam, his father, and Dahlia seemed so absurd it was laughable. I knew I should keep walking, ignore her diatribe, and get on with the evening, but I was tired of accusations and innuendoes. It would never stop unless I put an end to it. I turned to face her once more.
“Maybe you should follow your own advice,” I said. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you know how he feels. Sam does what Sam wants, and you’d do well to remember it.” Her face fell the tiniest bit, and I knew I’d struck a nerve. I could’ve devastated her with a few well-placed barbs, but I’d lost the taste for hatred and revenge. “And thank you, by the way.”
“For what?” She stared at me in confusion.
“For taking care of him when he needed it,” I said and shut the door behind me.
I didn’t go back to Sam. Instead, I wandered toward the nearest exit, hoping for fresh air and a reprieve from the drama of the night. I found a small balcony off the ballroom and stepped outside. A warm wind carried the scent of roses from the garden. The swimming pool gleamed below me, its blue waters illuminated like a jewel in the night. I pressed a hand to my stomach, attempting to quell the butterflies of distress and drew in a deep breath.
I loved Sam. I knew this beyond question. I always had and I always would. But I needed more than a one-sided affair. I needed to know he loved me, too. In spite of all the mistakes I’d made, the many ways I’d betrayed him, and my utter failure at being a wife, I realized I was only human. I deserved another chance at love and happiness.
With a sinking heart, I had to admit Sam might not be the one for the job. If he couldn’t get over the past and learn to trust me, we had no hope for a future together. Tears burned my eyes and throat. I needed some kind of sign that we were making progress in our relationship. The constant back and forth was draining away my self-esteem. And when it was gone, I’d have nothing left.
“There you are.” Sam’s greeting caressed my ears as he pressed against my back. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“I needed air.” His arm slid around my waist, drawing me closer to him, exciting all of my nerve endings, the way it did every time he touched me.
“Everything okay?” The brush of his lips across the top of my head renewed the sting of tears behind my eyelids.
“No, it’s not.” I tried to pull away from him, although every fiber of my being yearned to burrow deeper into his embrace. His arms tightened around me until I could feel his ribs against my back and the thickness between his legs nudging my bottom.
“What’s wrong? Let me make it right.” The way his deep voice rumbled in the quiet night air did crazy things to my heart.
“I saw Dahlia with your father and Jared MacGruder tonight.” I was in no mood to skirt around the issue. Better to rip the bandage off in one sharp tug than to prolong the agony. “Right before you came into the hall. They were all together.”
“Really?” He swayed gently in time to the music wafting through the open balcony doors. “That’s weird.”
“It was weird. And when I asked her about it, she wouldn’t answer me.”
“Are you sure? I can’t believe she’d do something like that.” I stiffened in his arms, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Maybe you took things out of context.”
I pushed away and turned to face him, my heart hammering in my chest so loudly I could scarcely hear my own voice. Because this was it. This was the moment where he either believed me or he didn’t, trusted me or not. “No. I know what I saw.”
He reached for me, but I hovered out of range, knowing the moment he touched me again, I’d cave. I’d give in to lust and longing and forget all my principles.
“She wouldn’t do anything like that,” he said, frowning.
My heart plummeted into the abyss of disappointment. “So you don’t believe me?” I tried again.
“Of course I believe you. I just don’t believe Dahlia would betray me. We’ve been friends forever. I trust her.”
And there it was. The truth. Laid out nice and pretty in front of me with a big, fat bow on top. He took a step toward me, but I backed up, my heart breaking into a million pieces. Moonlight glinted off the waves in his messy hair and sculpted the bones in his face. He’d never looked more irresistible, more beautiful, or more unattainable.
“But you don’t trust me.” I shook my head, blinking away the blur of tears. “You’re never going to trust me. I get that now.”
“Kota, come on.” He blocked my escape with a side step. “Be reasonable. We both agreed we needed time.”
“No. You needed time.” I pressed a hand to my stomach, hoping the crab cakes and oysters from our dinner would remain there. “And I thought I could give it to you, but…I can’t do it.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?” The fear in his voice renewed the surge of anguish inside me.
“You make me doubt myself.” I gave up the pretense of control and let the tears flow down my face. “You make me think I’m a horrible person when I’m not. I’m just a girl who made a mistake—a huge mistake—one I learned from.”
“Wait.” Sam’s full lips pressed into a tight line. “You’re not a horrible person, Dakota.”
“It’s okay, Sam.” I drew in a shuddering breath and plunged onward. “I don’t blame you for it. I just can’t live like this, having to prove myself to you over and over.”
“What do you expect, Dakota? You left me.” The words burst out of him with a fury I hadn’t prepared for. I blinked. “I keep wondering when you’re going to leave again. Will it be today? Tomorrow? Next week?”
“That’s not fair.” His anger knocked the wind from me. “You know why I left. It’s not like that now.”
“Really? It’s not?” He shoved a hand through his hair, jaw tightening. “Isn’t that what this is? You leaving me? Again?”
Shock, anger, and disappointment silenced us both for the space of a dozen heartbeats. We stared at each other, the emotional distance widening between us with every passing second. I saw it all on his face—betrayal, resignation, and accusation. Even now, I still loved him, and I couldn’t bear to see it end like this.
“I’ll finish out the MacGruder project,” I said, straightening my shoulders.
“I appreciate that,” Sam replied, his tone cold.
“We can still be friends.” I choked on the words, wanting to throw myself into his arms and beg for him to love me instead.
“We we
re never friends,” Sam said. And with those words, he turned and walked away.
Chapter 24
Dakota
I APPROACHED Monday morning with the enthusiasm of a woman about to face the firing squad. On the drive to work, Rockwell had to stop the car twice so I could heave the contents of my stomach onto the roadside. When he finally parked in front of the office steps, I remained in the car, too anxious to move.
“I just need a minute,” I said. His sympathetic gaze met mine in the rearview mirror.
“Take as long as you want,” he replied and offered a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his shirt.
With a grateful nod, I took it and withdrew a compact mirror from my purse. I wiped away smudges of mascara beneath my eyes and tried to regain my composure. I refused to let my personal issues take precedence over my professional obligations. Sam and I were parting as adults this time, under mutual consent, but it was still difficult.
When I was twenty, I’d ended my marriage to Sam under threats of blackmail and harm to my family. I’d been devastated. At the charity auction, I’d ended our relationship to preserve my self-esteem. Once again, I found myself heartbroken. This time, however, was different. This time I knew I could survive. The knowledge didn’t lessen the pain. Now that I’d had a taste of Sam, I wanted him in my life. A solitary tear leaked from the corner of my right eye. I swiped it away.
“May I say something?” Rockwell interrupted my breakdown. I glanced up to find his face etched with concern.
“Of course,” I said.
“It’s not over until it’s over.” He twisted around in the seat to face me. “As long as the sun comes up in the morning and you both have a heartbeat, it isn’t finished.”
“Easy for you to say.” My lower lip trembled with the threat of another tear. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me. I’m pretty sure we’re through for good.”
“You guys have been through hell. He loves you. And I know you love him back.” I nodded. His reached a hand over the back of the seat to cover mine. The reassuring warmth buoyed my strength. “He’s scared, Dakota. Scared you’ll leave again. Can you blame him?”
“I know,” I whispered. “But I can’t be with him when he doesn’t believe in me.” My defenses bristled at the need to once again explain myself. “And I haven’t left. I’m still here. When I leave this time, it will be because he made me go.” I worried the hem of the handkerchief between my fingers. The silk threads of an embroidered bluebird adorned one of the corners. I stroked the tiny stitches, relieved by the distraction. “My mother has a hankie like this.”
“I know. She gave it to me.” The smile on Rockwell’s face lit up the interior of the car. Happiness rushed through me to see the raw emotion in his expression. He was such a good man, kind, patient, and loyal. I was going to miss him. The thought brought a resurgence of tears to my eyes.
“Rockwell, are you seeing my mother?” A crimson tide rushed up his neck and into his cheeks. He’d been a positive influence in Sam’s life, and I appreciated his support through the past tumultuous months. My mother deserved a man like Rockwell.
“She’s a good woman,” he said. “Like you.”
“Thanks.” His praise meant more to me than I cared to admit.
Rockwell’s fingers tightened around mine. “Now get in there and show our boy you mean business.”
Xavier met me at the beverage station. He poured coffee into my outstretched cup then watched as I emptied two packets of salt into the black liquid. I realized my mistake, sighed, and dumped the coffee into the sink.
“That bad?” he asked. He shook his head and refilled my cup along with two more.
“Yes.” As soon as I spoke, Sam appeared at Xavier’s elbow. The bottom dropped from my belly at the sight of his straight nose, square jaw, and high cheekbones. Smudges of exhaustion darkened his eyes, but he managed a polite smile. I longed to caress his cheek and wipe away the lines of worry on his forehead. Bittersweet emotions twisted inside me. A flutter of excitement preceded the pang of heartbreak. I tightened my fingers around the cup handle and stared into its dark contents.
“Good morning.” The rich timbre of his voice shimmered over me, awakening the ache between my legs. If my body responded to him in this way every time he spoke, it was going to be a very long day.
“Morning,” I replied and watched him take the cup from Xavier’s hands, unable to meet his gaze. My attention focused on his adept fingers, the ones so skilled at arousing me.
“I’ve asked Mark to meet with me at ten,” Sam said. I blinked up at him then away. It was like looking into the midday sun, bright, hot, and unyielding. Sam stared at an undisclosed point above my head. “I’d like you to join us.”
“Okay.” And then he was gone. I resisted the urge to follow him with my gaze as he walked away and concentrated on stirring my coffee until it splashed onto the counter.
“Brrr.” Xavier shivered and searched my face with curious eyes. “Someone’s in the doghouse.”
I didn’t reply and turned toward my office instead, harried thoughts whirring inside my head. Xavier’s footsteps tapped on the wood floor behind me. Why couldn’t he just mind his own business? I was in no mood for his games this morning.
“I know your secret, by the way,” he offered when I moved to shut the door between us. “Mrs. Seaforth?”
This caught my attention. I froze mid-step. He pursed his lips. We stared at each other for several seconds before I took him by the arm and pulled him into my office.
“Who told you?” I asked, shutting the door firmly behind us.
“Dahlia.” Xavier’s face brightened. “She’s devastated by the way. Congratulations.”
“Your empathy is overwhelming.” I slid into the chair behind my desk and powered on the computer. Xavier leaned against the wall beside me, gripping his coffee cup in both hands.
“Don’t feel too sorry for her. She’s more interested in Sam’s social status than his heart.” He rifled through the sheaf of papers at my elbow until I placed my hand on top of it. “Which belongs to you from what I’ve seen.”
“I’d rather not discuss it,” I said.
“I have a whole new respect for you. That man is a handful on his best day. I can’t imagine what it was like to be married to him. Let alone divorced and working together.” Xavier continued, undisturbed by my rebuff.
“It hasn’t been a picnic, I can tell you that,” I muttered and punched my password into the keyboard with short, angry pecks.
An overwhelming sense of exhaustion sapped the strength from my body. I leaned my head against the back of the chair and closed my eyes. I was so tired of the lies, the charades, and the constant strain of dancing around the situation. I no longer had the fortitude to pretend I didn’t care.
“Lucky for you, this job is almost over, right?”
“Right.” Panic intensified the tired ache. In a few days, this torture would conclude. Sam would close the MacGruder deal, and I would move on. Tears stung my eyes. No more head games. No more angry sex. No more Sam. The finality of the situation settled over me, weighting me down.
“You never struck me as a quitter.” Xavier nudged the vase of roses, which always sat on the corner of my desk, toward me. “Fresh white roses every day. For you. From him. It was a very specific request.”
My attention returned to the crystal vase and the twelve stems tipped with ivory blossoms. I’d assumed they were part of the office décor, replenished by housekeeping. They were my favorite and always had been. Back when we were married, Sam had given me a flower every day. Sometimes it was a dandelion, sometimes a rose, but it was always there beside my breakfast plate or on the bed pillow in the morning.
“I take care of all his personal appointments, you know,” Xavier continued. He stroked the closed petals of a bud. “Since you arrived on the scene, not one afterhours meeting.” He drew air quotes around afterhours with his fingers. “No weekend hotel reservations. No secret lu
ncheon dates. And he asked me to give a canned rejection to any calls from his lady friends.”
At the mention of the other women in Sam’s life, the hair on my arms bristled. Even though my fears regarding Fran had been allayed, I had no illusions regarding the future. Once I left the picture, Sam would be back on the market, and there would be plenty of women waiting to take my place.
“I’m sure he’ll be back on the scene again.” I kept my attention focused on the computer monitor while I choked down the bile in my throat.
“My wife and I are going out Saturday night. Why don’t you come with us?” He took one of the flowers and plucked the bud from the stem before tucking it into the lapel of his lavender jacket.
Xavier had a wife? I had expected a male lover or lovers, but not a woman. In spite of my misery, I paused to reflect on this latest revelation. He smiled serenely at my thinly veiled surprise.
“Xandra,” he said. “Also with an X. She’s hot. Oriental. She will love you.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so.” By now my computer had come to life, and I focused on opening my email. The idea of sitting in a club ranked next to the firing squad. Until I could corral my depression, I would be spending my evenings at home with a pint of ice cream and a stack of steamy romance novels.
“I’m serious.” Xavier stood and adjusted the knot of his electric blue tie. “You can’t sit at home moping.” He tapped a finger on the top of my hand. “And believe me, Sammy will have kittens when he finds out you’re moving on without him. The guy hates to lose. Especially when it’s something he cares about.”
“I doubt that.” I slumped further into my chair.
“Well, think about it. We go to Dystopia every Saturday night. You’ve got a standing invitation to join us.” He turned and strode to the door with his peculiar, slinking gait. “And for the record? I’m Team Dakota all the way.”
Chapter 25
Sam
Pretty Filthy Lies: An Unconventional Love Story (Pretty Broken Book 2) Page 11
