Page 97 of Fake It For Glory

“I know, but Hattie says it’s the right thing to do.”

I took a deep breath and looked at Christian. He was right. It was time to move on. I couldn’t let my personal life affect my work. Lox was my dream, and I couldn’t let anyone stop me from making it a reality.

“You know,” I said with an amused smile. “I stayed single all this time because I didn’t want to be distracted. I get an inch from the finish line, and I allowed myself to get distracted.”

As our conversation continued, Christian’s voice took a more serious turn. “By the way, are you still on the hook to pay Merida that cool half million?”

I nodded solemnly. “There’s a contract, but I’ve got lawyers on it.”

“Good,” he said. “Don’t you dare pay her a penny for doing this shit.”

We finished another glass of whiskey before Christian got up to leave. I walked him to the door and then turned to look at all that my wealth bought for me. I wasn’t in danger of losing what I already had in terms of physical possessions, but I lost the respect of my peers and my customers. That was worse than losing the penthouse.

It was almost midnight and I needed to try and sleep. Tomorrow was going to be another day from hell. I needed to have my wits about me while I dealt with the reporters that were giving me a chance to tell my side of the story.

Hattie and Carl and the team of experts that handled these crisis situations would tell me everything I was supposed to say. They would tell me to smile and turn on the charm. I couldn’t change what was out there, but I could try and blind people with my smile and make them forget about it. I was going to have to do some mea culpas and promise to be better, which I already did, but now I had to do it in front of the world.

After my shower, I looked in the mirror and saw nothing but a tired man who was a little hungover. I was in desperate need of a shave and a haircut. I was ready to sleep for a month. I turned off the lights and walked to the bed to try and get some much-needed rest when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Merida.

“I’m sorry.”

I sat there looking at the screen. I didn’t have to respond. I didn’t have to do anything else at all. She had made her choice.

The phone rang in my hand. It was her.