“Nope. She’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
“Not here,” Lola barks. “Do you not get that? Should I put it out in a press release loaded with bullshit? You know, speak your language? Will that help?”
“Listen . . .”
“No, you listen. You need to go,” she fires back.
“I know she’s here,” I hear him say. “I need to talk to her.”
The sound of desperation in his voice breaks me and the tears begin to fall. I’m so hemmed up with feelings, the pain in the ass emotions I’ve tried to keep away.
Sitting quietly at the table, I hear them talk, their voices lowered, and can’t make out what’s being said until I hear Lo again.
“Leave, Landry.”
“I want to talk to her. Please.”
Everything goes quiet and I sniffle. It comes out louder than I expect and in my little one thousand-square-foot house, it doesn’t take much for a sound to make it to the front door.
“Alison!” h
e yells. “Talk to me, baby. Please. Give me five minutes.”
“What part of leave don’t you understand? Does it equivocate in your mind with loyalty or honor? Because you clearly have neither of those.”
“I had no idea,” he says, obviously to me. “I didn’t know Nolan was putting that out! I had ”no idea!
I want to believe him, for things to go back to the way they’ve been, but doing that seems as careless as putting my heart out there to begin with.
“If you don’t go, I’m going to call someone to get you out of here,” Lola warns.
Scooting back from the table, I just want this to end with as little drama as possible. I don’t want anyone called, I don’t want a scene made. I just want to lick my wounds in peace.
I turn the corner of the kitchen and see him looking over Lola’s shoulder. His eyes are wide, his blue tie hanging haphazardly off to one side. His hair is a wild mess like he’s been running his fingers through it.
The sight of him twists my heart, but I have to stay strong.
This is the man that just fucked me over.
“What?” I asked, gathering as much anger as I can.
He storms by Lola, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. I take a step back before he reaches me and place my arms across my chest.
“Alison, let me explain.”
“Talk,” I instruct. “You have about three minutes to say your piece and then you’re leaving.”
His hands look like they want to reach for me, his lips twitch to kiss me. He fights himself not to whisk me in his arms, but he doesn’t.
“I don’t know where to start,” he admits.
“How about the little article in the paper from your people that basically makes me out to be a pathetic, needy little gold digger.”
“It doesn’t do that!”
“No, it does. The entire article is slander!” The tears fill again and I blink back the red hot liquid. “I can’t believe you allowed that!”