Her eyes pop, her pupils dilating the moment she realizes that I know. She freezes, her eyes locked on mine for one second, two, three…
“People do things sometimes that… are a shock, even to themselves,” she says, plastering on a fake smile as one of the hotel staff passes and wishes us good morning.
“In the moment, perhaps.” I tip my head to the side as I study her. From the outside, she looks like any other woman, long dark hair, red lipstick, manicured nails, designer dress. But I know underneath it all is a selfish heart as cold as ice.
“But to plan something, down to the tiniest detail. To search and find something that apparently never existed twelve years ago. And then to use it as a weapon against someone who has never done a thing against you…It’s fucking despicable.”
Her throat constricts as she swallows slowly, looking up at me with darkened eyes. “You left me and moved to LA.”
“I wasn’t talking about me,” I spit. “And there’s nothing wrong with my memory, Bea. If I recall, you broke up with me in a note before that and were in someone else’s bed before I’d even packed.”
I blow out a breath with a humorless chuckle. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about caring about anyone other than yourself.”
Her eyes glitter up at me before she narrows them, her chest rising as she draws in a deep breath. “I can see it was a mistake coming here. Thinking that you might be reasonable, given our history. Do give my regards to Harley, won’t you? I’m sure you’ll be speaking to her.” She turns to leave.
“Don’t,” I growl.
She pauses, thrusting her chin out as she turns back to me.
“Don’t what? Don’t remind you of what it was like? How you liked to…” She glances at Stuart. “He liked it hard and dirty.” She smirks. “We fucked like—”
“No,” I hiss so quietly that only the three of us can hear. But the volume doesn’t matter. It’s the venom in my voice that makes Bea’s words wither like paper over a flame, dying in her throat. I fix my eyes on her, leaning closer. “Don’t ever say her name where I can hear you again. You don’t deserve to eventhinkit.”
She bristles, her shoulders stiffening, visibly shaken by the force of my words as she slowly draws in a breath before she speaks. “I hope she knows how lucky she is. You’ve always been…” She rubs her lips together, her brows pulling inward, creating a deep line in the skin between them. “You and I could have—”
“No, Bea. We couldn’t.”
She looks at me, her eyes shining, and for a second, I see regret there, hidden behind the lies and the jealousy, and the selfishness. But it’s been layered over so many times that I’m not sure even Bea understands it herself. Visiting me at the office to congratulate me, the gift basket… Small tokens of guilt, perhaps? Maybe Graham and Dennis were the ones who decided they were going to get the new mayor onboard with their plans, whoever he or she was. Maybe it was pure luck that I won, and that Bea and I shared a history. One with an ugly blot in it that only a few people knew about, including her.
But she was still a part of it.
A huge part.
She told them about me. She betrayed any sense of decent human behavior by giving them that information when she knew they wanted to use it to manipulate me. To control me.
It’s unforgivable.
And I would bet my life on it being her who suggested they use Harley. That my feelings for her were their strongest weapon.
But they underestimated Harley.
And me.
I lean in close to her so I can whisper my next words in her ear. “I couldneverlove someone like you.”
Bea’s breath catches before she inclines her cheek toward mine, dropping her voice. “But you can love her? Someone who didn’t even know you then? Who wasn’t there for the most defining time in your life?” she spits.
“She didn’t have to be,” I enunciate each word, so they’re fired like bullets one by one. “She knows who I amnow.And that’s something someone like you can never understand. And that one night? That wasn’t the most defining part of my life. The day I met Harley was.”
Bea recoils, pulling her cheek away and glaring up at me. “You’ll always be soiled, Reed. She can’t magic it away.”
My anger turns to pity as I stare at her. She’s desperate. She’s scared and desperate, and if she hadn’t done what I know she has, then I might think she deserved sympathy.
But she doesn’t.
Bea chose her path the day she decided to share the worst night of my life with two men who wanted to use it to their advantage.
But it isn’t their life. And it isn’t their story to share.