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“Excuse me, Aubrey?” she said.

I rolled my eyes. “Hello?”

“Much better.” There was a smile in her voice. “What time should I expect you at The Grove tonight?”

“Never. I’m not coming.”

“Save me your tantrums, Aubrey. There’s a lot of money riding on this first dinner. Would you like me and your father to pick you up?”

“I said I’m not coming. Did you not hear me?”

“Aubrey…” She lowered her voice. “I’ve been trying to hold back for the past few weeks, but you know what? I am sick and tired of you being so damn thoughtless and selfish about your father’s aspirations. Neither of us personally give a damn about your thoughts on the election, but since you’re a member of this family, I demand that you—”

“Go to hell.” I hung up and continued packing, even faster now.

Subject: Cab.

Miss Aubrey Everhart,

Your cab has arrived at the address you specified. It will wait for exactly five minutes.

—Durham Cab Co.

I rushed into the bathroom and filled a plastic bag with toiletries, and then I placed them into my suitcase and headed outside.

“Bus station, right?” The cab driver, a woman, smiled as I approached.

“Yes, please.”

She took my bags and placed them into the trunk as I slid into the backseat. I felt my heart hurting with every second that passed, and as much as I tried to block out the thoughts about Andrew, images of his face infiltrated my brain anyway.

I was picturing the last full night we spent together, the night before he kicked me out of his condo, and no matter how hard I tried to make sense of what happened the very next night, I couldn’t. All I could do was cry.

My phone vibrated against my knee and I flipped it over, hoping to see Mr. Petrova’s name, but it was Andrew.

“Hello?” I answered.

“What are you doing?”

“I have ballet practice on Wednesdays…Shouldn’t you know that by now?”

“If you were actually in ballet practice you wouldn’t be picking up your phone.”

Silence.

“Aubrey?” He sounded concerned. “Are you crying?”

“No.” I lied, turning up the volume on my car radio.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just said—”

“Stop f**king lying to me, Aubrey,” he said. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I got sent home from practice today.”


Tags: Whitney G. Reasonable Doubt Romance