She didn’t see his blindside coming until it was too late. After that…I could never trust her. Or Parker.
Beside me, the phone buzzes incessantly. Paparazzi? More well-meaning family members? I don’t give a fuck.
Screeching into the driveway, I park sideways, blocking in the SUV. She’s not leaving until we have this out. Then I stomp to the house, slamming my way inside. “Corinne!”
“In here,” she answers quietly from the living room, her voice quivering.
My gut torques up. Is she about to tell me to fuck off, too?
I march around the corner and find her sitting on the sofa. There’s no freshly fucked glow, repressed smile, or fake contrition on her face. Unlike Hadley that fateful night, Corinne is pale and shaken.
My anger drains out, quickly replaced by concern. I reach her in a handful of steps and crouch in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “Did that bastard hurt you?”
Her gaze bounces to mine. Surprise fills her dark eyes. “You know?”
“That you had lunch with Riley? It’s all over social media.”
She presses a hand over her gaping mouth. “Oh, my gosh… I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I’m used to being nobody and I was so stunned when he called…”
I care less about our scheme and how her luncheon looked to the world than I do about Riley upsetting her. Did she even want to see him?
“When?”
“This morning.” It clicks. He must have been the person calling as Harlow, Masey, and Britta left my place.
“Son of a bitch.”
“I saw his name come up on my phone, and I was shocked. I didn’t think it could truly be him. I hadn’t heard from him in over a year. And suddenly…there he was, calling to tell me he’s on the island for something work-related and that he wants to see me.” She swallows. “To explain and apologize.”
Isn’t the timing really fucking convenient? I’m calling bullshit. Almost no one comes to the island for anything work-related, especially in the financial sector. The fucker works in New York City, the economic capital. What could possibly be on Maui that would further his career? Nothing.
He came here for Corinne.
Because he had another change of heart?
“I tried to reach you for two hours, to find out what the hell was going on. Why didn’t you answer?”
“I-I forgot to charge my phone last night. When he called, I was working. After we hung up, I plugged in my phone in the office and went to shower. I forgot to take it when I left.”
Her story is plausible. I kept her too busy last night to bother with anything practical.
Which begs the question… “Why did you meet him?”
“I wanted closure. I never got it. Or at least I didn’t feel like I did. The excuses he gave me when we broke up didn’t really explain.”
“Did he have a different story today?”
She nods, her brow furrowing as she seems to gather her words. “That he’d gotten scared. He knew I wanted to get married and have children, and he wasn’t ready. He said he didn’t think it was fair to waste my time when he didn’t know how long it would be before he was.”
“And he’s ready now?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“But I’ll bet he gave you some indication.”
She bites her lip. “Not in so many words, but he hinted…”
Of course he did, the fucking bastard.
His story is crap. Or maybe I’m just convinced of that because this fucker seems shady, moving in on Corinne again while she’s “engaged.” He doesn’t know it’s fake. Unless… “Did you tell him our engagement isn’t real?”
That snaps her attention back to me. “Of course not. But he kept asking if I was happy.”
I blanch. “What did you tell him?”
“Very.” She presses her lips together, looking near tears. “You’re obviously angry and—”
“You should have told me you were going to have lunch with this asshole. I could have come with you. We could have created a completely different public narrative. But you waited to tell me until it was over.”
“I apologized for having lunch in public. It was stupid of me. But I wasn’t going to interrupt you at work for my personal stuff.”
Maybe, but I don’t think that’s the only reason. “You didn’t want me to hear your conversation.”
She fidgets and looks away. “I didn’t. Our breakup was humiliating. I was afraid the explanation would be equally mortifying.”
I want to be furious. I want to rip off this son of a bitch’s head for hurting her. I want him to stop sniffing around my woman.
But she’s not really mine.
And her rationale sounds real. I need to take it down a notch.
“Where did you leave things?”
“He asked me to forgive him. I told him I did and that, if he wasn’t ready for marriage, I’m glad he didn’t go through the motions and change his mind on our wedding day or something equally awful.”