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No one answers, but I know she’s home and I knock again. Louder. More instant.
Finally locks click and chains rattle and the door opens.
She’s all dolled up, a million miles both in distance and in appearance to how I last saw her.
I lean against the door jamb, placing my foot strategically to make sure if she tries to slam it she can’t.
“Hello, Amelia,” I say to the old lady. “I think we need to have a nice long talk. Don’t you?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Zoey
“He’s a bastard.”
I don’t have the energy to smile at Suzanna the next morning. “Go to work.”
“No! I’m taking a personal day. And I’ll take a personal week if I have to. You need me.”
“It’s over,” I say. “This place. My store. And I know you hate it, but…”
“You love it.” She scoots over on the sofa to me and hugs me, cushion I’m holding and all and my eyes burn.
“I can’t believe I was taken in by Edward Sinclair.”
“I can’t believe I never recognized him. Though come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture of him. They’re rich as God, but they don’t flaunt it. Except, you know the brother currently on all the gossip sites and papers.” She sighs and pushes past the bottle of Jack she brought over last night to find the water. She pours some into a glass and hands it to me. “I don’t move in those circles.”
“I don’t either. I’m an idiot. A fool. I’m everything people roll their eyes at and whisper about behind their backs.” I pick at the edge of the cushion, blinking back the burn and the blur.
The last thing I’m going to do is cry over that bastard.
I never told Suze how far it went with him, only the kisses and I’m not going to. But I’m betting she’s guessed.
Being a good friend, however, she’s not going to say a word. But it’s there in her eyes as she looks at me, the knowing I harbor huge feelings for a man who doesn’t want them. A man who doesn’t deserve them. A man who manipulated me like I was made of the world’s softest clay.
I shouldn’t have done it. Not the falling in love with him…or the fantasy I created. And not the giving his fake grandmother money. Something I did on my own because I thought she needed it. He set that up with her. Except…except…his reaction said there was more to that than I thought.
It doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters except I’ve lost the store.
It’s not in writing. It’s not even being whispered, but that money being gone, him who he is, and the loan means he’s getting control.
“You can’t give up.”
I look at Suzanna. “Did you just tell me not to give up?”
“Yep. He doesn’t own this place. You’re the one thing that stands between his making some more money he doesn’t need and not doing that. Don’t give in.”
“I don’t want to, but he—” I stop. “It doesn’t matter if I try and stand up, he’s going to eventually win. And I don’t want to see him anymore.”
She stands up. “Get your things. We’re going to close up the store and you’re coming to stay with me for a bit. That way you can just think.”
What else am I going to do? Everywhere I look in here reminds me of him and what we did. What an idiot I am.
“Okay.”
Two days later and I know I have to do something. Like go back home and start packing. I’ve run the entire gamut of emotions. From wallowing to queen of revenge. The last is utterly tempting.
