Graham parks on the street outside my building, and before he can turn the car off, I’m out of the vehicle.
“Emmy. Wait,” he calls as I hear him following me. He catches up with me as I reach the lobby doors.
“There’s no need to follow me inside. There’s no photographer. Go home, Graham.”
“You’re mad at me. You barely said two words the entire way here.”
“I didn’t have to say anything because we aren’t a real thing. I don’t have to pretend in the car. Acting is over,” I say sharply.
I stab at the elevator button, and it opens. I walk inside, and he follows me.
“Did Holden do something? Touch you or make you feel uncomfortable?”
“He was a giant anus, and he was definitely waiting for me outside the restroom, but that’s not the point. The point is you didn’t tell me what was going on. I didn’t realize that our entire evening was a performance for Holden and his coworker.”
He exhales. “She’s his mistress.”
I lift my hands. “I don’t care. If I’d known it was a spy mission to see if he’s cheating on Divina, I would have liked to have been told. I knew you kept looking over at someone in the restaurant, but then we . . .” Were having a good time.
I was beguiled by him. That’s the damn issue.
The elevator door opens to my floor, and I march to it, then whip around. “This date is over.”
“Let me explain at least.”
Jiggling my key, I open my door and walk into the foyer. “Fine.”
He rubs his jawline, a perplexed expression on his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was there. I didn’t know for sure that he’d show, but he and Dad usually go there on Wednesdays. Brody and I have been invited several times, and we go sometimes, mostly when it’s just Dad. I didn’t know he’d show up with her, although I’m not surprised.”
“And there’s a party apparently? After we’re married? I had no clue what was going on.”
He groans. “I didn’t have time to bring it up.”
I shake my head. “I thought you were in the moment. I thought we were having a great time—”
Jane’s hushed voice interrupts me as she appears in the hallway. “You both sound like a herd of elephants. Londyn just got to sleep and she’s teething, and if you wake her up, you’ll have to deal with it.”
“Sorry.” A long exhale comes from me as I toss my purse on the narrow table in the foyer and walk to the den.
“Hey, Andrew is still out, and I scheduled drinks with a girlfriend. Are you in for the night?” she asks me, her eyes darting to Graham.
He’s right there in the den, of course, clearly not leaving.
I smile, noticing that she’s wearing a miniskirt and a lacy blouse. “Sure. Go on. Have fun. I’m not going anywhere.”
Graham plops down on the couch. “Neither am I,” he says quietly, then narrows his eyes at me. “Not until we start communicating and figure out what this attitude is about.”
My eyes flash. “‘Attitude.’ Oh. Just you wait.”
“Is your temper always this hot?”
“Only when someone hurts my feelings.”
“How?” he mutters, crossing his arms.
“Oh, one more thing. Mason and Ciara were in the neighborhood and dropped by,” Jane says, interrupting us as she slips on a cardigan.
I wince. I left a voice mail on Mason’s phone that I was going to be putting all my work into the store and would have to let the bar go, but if he needed me to come in this coming week, I would, but I didn’t explain why.
“What did they say?” I ask.
Jane glances at Graham, who currently looks very comfortable on my couch. “They heard about your engagement and wanted to congratulate you. Mason, in particular, had lots of questions about it.”
I rub my forehead, recalling that Mason knew about me taking the Lambo. He’s probably worried.
“Why did you just put an emphasis on ‘engagement’?” Graham asks her.
“I didn’t,” Jane says, then glances at me with an I’m sorry look, which only makes it worse.
“Yes, you did,” he insists. “You said, ‘They heard about your engagement.’”
“Didn’t. Oops, look at the time. I’ve got to dash, or I’ll miss the train. Bye, guys.” With a little wave and a last look at me, she grabs her keys and wallet and heads out the door.
The silence builds in the apartment as Graham stands with his hands on his hips. “Dammit, Emmy. You told her.”
Tension swirls, almost a tangible thing, as our eyes clash together.
He rubs his face. “I specifically asked you not to tell anyone, even your siblings, and you signed an NDA.”
“I signed it tonight and I told her yesterday,” I snip, brushing past him to head down the hall. “Plus, she already knew something was up when Babs told her you’d bought the store. For me, apparently.”
“I did buy it for you. You should be happy.”
“You bought it to manipulate me.”
He follows me. “What if she tells someone, then they tell someone? Holden already knows that Brody wants to open a gym, and he didn’t hear that from me or Brody, which means he’s always spying on us. You can’t tell anyone my secrets.”
I open my bedroom door and walk in. “‘The best way to keep a secret between two people is if one of them is dead.’ Mark Twain. Or someone. I can’t remember because I’m pissed at you.”
He shuts my door behind him and faces me, his cheekbones flushed with twin spots of color. “And for no fucking reason.”
I take down the pins in my hair and toss them on the dresser. Threading my fingers through my hair, I release the chignon, and the strands fall to my shoulders.
Do I have a reason?
Not to him.
He’s just playing a role.
I’m the moth who flew a little too close to his flame.
A small huff comes from me as I try to clear my thoughts.
He never said anything different tonight, but I got caught up in the moment, especially after his generosity with the prenup.
I deflate, my shoulders slumping. “I forgot, okay. It felt real, and I was getting to know you. I forgot that there was an ulterior motive for our evening out.”
His expression turns quizzical, as if he’s trying to decipher my words.
I huff. “I’m angry at myself, and then Holden surprised me, and then Pia shows up and you don’t seem fazed at all. I don’t like being kept in the dark. It was all too much at once.”
He picks up a candid photo of Jane and Andrew and Londyn and me. “Who else have you told? Your brother?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He’s walking the perimeter of my room, taking it all in, from the Victorian doll collection I inherited from Gran to the mess of clothes on the floor to my stuffed animals. Magic abruptly darts out from under my bed, arches his spine, hisses at Graham, then runs from the room.
“He was just saying hello,” I say.
“Your cat is temperamental,” Graham says dryly as he gives me a look. “Like you.”
I sigh, changing directions. “I used to read Charlotte’s Web to my siblings. Are you familiar with it, Graham?”