Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
My stomach bottomed out. For the first time tonight, Briar’s face hardened for someone that wasn’t me.
Briar held Frankie’s stare. “Today, as I tidied up my fiancé’s affairs in his office, I came across his bank statements.”
She went into my office? When? How? I rarely let her out of my sight.
“It’s the strangest thing.” Briar tsked, shaking her head. “He had many, many charges to his credit card that traced back to designer stores, all of them in Georgia. I thought to myself – who could Oliver know that lives in Georgia? Someone he’d be close enough to give his credit card to. Someone reckless enough to rack up forty-grand bills on dresses and shoes.” She perched her chin on her fist. “Whose name do you think I came up with?”
“I … um, Posh Spice?” Frankie smiled hopefully. “She loves a good designer bag.”
Eyes closed, I buried my face in my hands. The irony of it all was that I’d never touched Frankie, nor did I have any desire to.
“You, Frankie,” Briar said matter-of-factly. “You’re having an affair with an engaged man who is twice your age. I hope you are happy with yourself.”
Briar stood, seized her napkin from her lap, and tossed it on the table.
“I’m really not.” Frankie shot up. Tears rimmed her eyes. She bolted after Briar, who stomped her way back to the house. “I swear, I didn’t touch him. Ever. And not for my lack of trying.” She paused to throw her sister an apologetic glance. “Sorry, Dal.”
Dallas sighed. “It’s okay. Vitamin D deficiency runs in the family.”
Frankie kept chasing after Briar across the grass. “He wouldn’t have me.”
Despite my desire to crawl up the mouth of one of Romeo’s many flamethrowers, something compelled me to go after them. Perhaps the knowledge that Briar didn’t want to kill Frankie. She wanted my head on a plate. So much for vegetarianism.
“He wouldn’t have me, and I know why. It’s because he is obsessed with you.” Frankie hiked up her dress to run faster. “He’s always been obsessed with you. I realized it when I saw the two of you at the hotel for the first time. You’re it. Everyone else was just a distraction.”
Briar grabbed the handle to the backyard door and jerked it open. “He’s a manwhore.”
“He’s a saint,” Frankie countered, following her into the home.
“He’s damaged.”
“So are you.” It came out as a rare whisper. Perhaps the only moment of awareness I’d ever witnessed from Frankie. “And me. All of us. Perfect is so boring. It’s predictable. Flaws keep things interesting.”
I slipped past Frankie and gripped Briar’s shoulder. “Frankie, go back outside.”
“I can’t do that when she’s mad at me.” Frankie tossed her arms in the air like a child. Tears landed on her cheeks. “She thinks we’re having an affair. I would never do that. I would never hook up with someone taken.”
I spared a glance at the stairwell. Briar had already vanished into the bedroom. I was eager to confront her. To find out what she knew. Electricity passed through every fissure in my body. For the first time in years, I felt alive. Brimming with something more than misery.
I guided Frankie toward the door to the backyard. “She doesn’t think we’re having an affair.”
“Of course, she does. She said so herself.”
“What I mean is, even if she does, she doesn’t care.” I shooed her with both hands. “Now, go. Please.”
“Not before—”
“Frankie. Get the fuck out before I call security and throw you out. Okay? I need to go speak to my fiancée.”
My fiancée.
What a joke.
The jig was up. Briar was on to me. I needed to face the music. And that music? It was no concerto. More like heavy metal.
And still, I went. Readily, even.
Because even her hate was better than her indifference.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Briar
Seb vB: Heard that shit show.
Seb vB: Me and everyone on the Eastern seaboard.
Seb vB: You good?????
Seb vB: I guess that means you’re leaving.
Seb vB: Don’t leave.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Briar
That hadn’t gone as planned.
The plan: to pressure everyone into fessing up to their lies, then storm out of there like a badass, my chin up, as if I didn’t give a damn about Oliver’s ruse.
I did not plan for my fiancé’s “mistress” to chase after me in tears.
I did not plan for my so-called besties to enjoy being roasted.
I did not plan for Oliver’s best friends to indulge my outlandish claims.
Obviously – and I would take this to my grave – these people didn’t totally suck. The opposite, actually.
They’d agreed to go along with Ollie’s absurd plan, not because making a fool out of me entertained them but because they were decent people and didn’t want to risk setting back my recovery. Plus, Dallas and Fae didn’t have to take me to Texas to jog my memory. They chose to.
Either way, I’d find some time to apologize.