AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Just you, me, and the ocean for a day. Or a week. Do you have any vacation time coming up?
He’d asked, already knowing the answer. He’d manipulated me, down to the very last detail. That goddamn motherfucking piece of shit.
"Your boyfriend? Damn, I should get a bonus. He really scored with you."
He won’t shut up. I don’t know why he won’t shut up. I put my hands up on either side of my head, trying to shut him out. Trying to stay sane. I can’t believe this. Oh god, I can’t believe it. I’m rocking back and forth, and vaguely, I hear Ashley getting rid of jackass but I can’t process the words right now.
I’d been so stupid. So goddamn stupid.
Kaden
I enter the Emporio Armani and search in the dimly lit bar for Brittney. I’m so damn happy, I think my heart might burst out of my chest. I’ve done nothing but think about Brittney all day long. One of my research guys discovered that she loves Jane Austen, and more specifically, original copies of her novels. I already have a rare items dealer on the hunt for an original copy of Pride & Prejudice or Emma. She is going to freak the fuck out when I give it to her. I can’t wait.
Except, I’ve finally found her in the dim lighting, and she doesn’t look happy to see me. Not one fucking bit. I see Tom from work being drug away from Brittney by some hot chick, while he’s arguing with her. "I was just talking to her," I can hear him say.
Talking to her. Talking to Brittney? Why the fuck was he talking to Brittney?
And is this why Brittney looks like death warmed over? I approach cautiously, not brave enough to stride over like I would have just five minutes early.
"Hey Britt." I try for casual. Maybe this is all just a huge coincidence. Maybe Tom hadn’t actually said anything to her.
"You’ve got yourself a real cold fish there, boss!" he calls out. Obviously, his pride has been bruised, and like a fucktard, he wants his bank account to be too.
"You’re fired," I call back casually. "Now get the hell out of here." I don’t even bother looking at him when I say it. He isn’t worth my time. I hear a fight break out between him and what I assume is the bouncer for the bar, but I ignore it all. "Brittney?" I say tentatively, reaching out to her like I would towards a wild animal, cornered and angry and ready to bite at any moment.
"How?" She looks up at me, finally making eye contact and I flinch, almost wishing she hadn’t. My beautiful, funny, confident Brittney is gone, and in her place is a woman who looks as if death cannot come quickly enough. I’m not even sure if she’s angry with me, or just in such a state of shock, she can’t feel anything at all.
"I had my guys at work do a little digging," I say desperately, trying to head off her questions. "That’s all. I just wanted to impress you."
"Impress me?" she echoes. "Impress me?! You goddamn manipulated me!!!" Her roar echoes around the noisy bar and the sound level drops to zero. I swear to god, I can hear people breathing. "You goddamn motherfucking piece of shit! You researched me like you would an acquisition! You gathered that knowledge so you could use it! I can’t believe I fucked you! Well, fuck you!" The whole bar gasps collectively and a white filmy haze drops over my eyes and I realize that I, too, am going into shock.
I’d just wanted to make her fall in love with me.
I hadn’t even been able to show her my dance moves. After three weeks of lessons, I can’t show her a single one.
A tiny – minuscule – part of my brain realizes that my dance lessons aren’t important here, but I’m having a hard time focusing on any one thing at the moment.
Her chest is heaving and she’s glaring at me so hard, I’m surprised my hair doesn’t catch on fire.
"You, Kaden Charles, may be a genius on Wall Street, but you’re a fucking retard when it comes to women. Erica, get me out of here."
And the three women walk arm in arm out of the bar to the clapping and whistling of onlookers, while I simply wish for death to come find me, and quickly.
Brittney
I’m staring down at my tequila shot, the amber liquid saying nothing but "Drink me." Not exactly helpful advice, but I take it anyway and toss back the shot. I feel the warmth of the alcohol spread through my veins, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
Nothing makes me feel better.
Lisa leans over and gives me a one-armed hug. I snuffle into her arm. I probably sound like a two-year-old crying to her mom, but I don’t even care right now.
"Whhhhhyyyyyyy???" I wail. Lisa quickens her patting pace until it’s almost a fan, cooling me off. "Why do I fall for these assholes?!"
"I know, honey," she says comfortingly. "Guys just can’t help but be assholes sometimes."
She knows what she’s talking about – Diesel had decided for her that she wouldn’t want to move to Long Island, not even bothering to ask her until his broken heart had finally driven him to stop being an idiot.
