“And what are the ‘facts’?” she asked, using air quotes.
I held my head high, smoothing a hand down my dress as I slid off the stool, squaring my shoulders. “That I’m a forty-year-old woman, and he’s a ridiculously attractive professional baseball player who’s probably slept with models and actresses. Let’s not even talk about all the effort I made him go through to get laid.” I barked out a laugh, throwing my hands up in frustration. “I made him bake a fucking cake, for crying out loud.”
“A…cake?” Naomi furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”
I waved her off. “That’s beside the point.”
“Then what is the point, Julia?” She stood and gripped my biceps. “You’re letting Nick into your head again. You—”
I pulled out of her hold. “The point is that no horny, young guy would go through all that for a piece of ass unless there’s something else in it for him.” I leaned toward her. “Unless he needs something else from it. He knows. That’s the only explanation.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, pretending the idea that Chris…Lachlan led me on to get information didn’t gut me like it did.
“Knows what?”
“Everything! He knows who I am. Knew his sister came to see me. And he knew all he had to do was turn on the charm and I’d fall under his spell. Just like I did with Nick.”
With every word I spoke, my voice grew louder and more irritable.
“That’s why he agreed to my proposal. Not because he wanted to spend the week with me. But because he figured I might tell him what I refused to tell his sister.”
Naomi stared at me, jaw agape, silence ringing in the space between us.
A knock suddenly reverberated in the room, cutting through the truth clinging to the air like the foul stench of death and decay.
“Ms. Prescott. Five minutes.”
“I’ll be right there,” I said with a saccharine smile, despite the fact the stage manager couldn’t see me. It was a trick I’d learned years ago. Whenever shit got bad, just plaster a smile onto your face. If you smiled, you’d sound happier. For years, it was the only way I could hide the truth that I felt like a prisoner in my marriage.
“You can’t really believe that, Jules,” Naomi said once we heard the sound of retreating footsteps.
I avoided her gaze, walking to the mirror and taking a few seconds to ensure my makeup hid all evidence of my emotions, transitioning into the Julia Prescott America had grown to love.
The Julia Prescott my PR firm insisted I needed to become in order to protect my business from ruin. To do everything I could to separate myself from Nick’s actions.
“It’s too much of a coincidence to believe otherwise. If being married to Nick taught me anything, it’s that there’s no such thing as a coincidence. Not where he’s concerned.”
“And if your marriage to Nick taught me anything…” Naomi touched my forearm, turning me toward her, “it’s that he’s always had the uncanny ability to get into your head and under your skin.”
“This isn’t him getting into my head. This is merely a determination based on facts. Not his interpretation of the facts. Mine, and mine alone.”
“No.” A sad smile tugged on her lips. “It’s an assumption. I’m not saying you’re wrong. You could very well be right. I won’t deny it is…remarkable. But not everyone has ulterior motives. Not everyone is the bad guy. Not everyone is like your ex-husband.” She allowed her statement to linger for a moment before brightening her expression. “For all you know, this could just be a messed-up twist of fate.”
“Twist of fate?”
“Exactly.” She clutched my hands in hers. “Two lost souls whose connection runs deeper than the physical. Maybe there’s a reason your paths crossed. Maybe there’s something bigger at play. The universe forcing you together so you both can finally move on from your pasts.” She smirked. “And to give you a week of sinful, lust-filled, depraved fucking you most certainly deserve.”
I stared at her for several moments. The tension too much for me, I threw my head back and laughed. That was one of the reasons I loved Naomi. Why I needed her in my life. Through it all, she’d been my voice of reason. The one person who had no problem calling me out for my shit. The one person who reminded me what was truth and what was just Nick’s manipulation still at play, even all these years later.
“Several-orgasms-a-night sinful, lust-filled, depraved fucking,” I reminded her, my tone light.
“Stop rubbing it in, will ya?” She flashed a smile before her expression grew serious once more. “Please don’t do anything rash because one asshole taught you to assume the worst of everyone. Promise you’ll talk to Lachlan first. See what he has to say about it all. And make sure you actually listen to him. This could very well come as a huge shock to him, too.”
I wanted to remind her that listening to Nick didn’t exactly turn out all that great for me. But I didn’t, nodding instead. “Okay. Promise.”
“Good.” She seemed appeased by that. But I wasn’t.
She may have thought it all just a big coincidence.
I knew better, though.
Nothing in life was truly a coincidence. Not when Nick was involved.