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“You know, you may be on to something, Frances,” I said, snapping my finger. “I should call Ryan back and ask him to hire the same investigator he used for you to confirm if there’s another company interested in Morgan’s land.” I pulled out my phone to call Ryan.
“What?” The word was barely a sound, but I heard it. I heard the shock behind it as well. Then it hit me—what I’d just blurted out.
“Frances, that came out wrong,” I said, turning her to face me. Her eyes were unfocused as they bounced along my face.
“When?” she asked.
“When, what?”
She curled her fists. “When did you hire the investigator?”
“As soon as we got back from Miami.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. You hired an investigator after we’d been intimate together? You hired someone to look into my personal life and past?” she asked, her eyes finally holding onto mine.
I shook my head. “I didn’t hire him. Ryan did.”
Her eyes still held mine. “But you knew about it?”
“Yes.”
She stepped back, out of my reach. “You knew your brother hired an investigator to look into things that were private to me and you were all right with that?”
“I was trying to prove to him that you had nothing to hide. But you were hiding something.”
She paced the room. “I’d always thought Ava had come to you, that she had followed up on her resume. I’d never imagined this.”
Water filled her eyes, but she kept the tears at bay. Knowing I was causing her such pain angered me. I didn’t want to hurt her. Why was she taking this the wrong way?
“I don’t know why you’re upset with me. You were the one lying.”
She grabbed her bag from under the bed and started packing her clothes in it.
“What are you doing?” I asked, panicked.
“I need to go home. I can’t be here anymore.”
“Fine. I’ll just tell Morgan that we’re leaving early.”
“Not we, Colton, me. I don’t want to drive over an hour in the car with you. I’m calling myself a cab or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll drive you home.”
“I don’t want to be near you right now.”
“I can take you back,” another voice said from the hallway. Paul stood at France’s door. “I’m heading into town myself. I can drive you home, Frances.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said. “Frances, let’s talk about this.”
“Thank you, Paul.” She grabbed her bag and pushed past me toward the door. Before disappearing down the hallway, she turned to me and said, “Goodbye, Colton.”
“Frances, wait,” I called after her. But she was already racing down the staircase.
I rushed back to my room to pack my things, hoping to catch her before she left.
The slamming of a car door drew me to the front window. Frances sat in the passenger seat while Paul spoke to his parents.
What the fuck just happened?
