“You deserve better than you, too.”
I allow my words to linger for a moment, then step into my room, slamming the door behind me. Throwing myself onto my bed that still smells of Julian, I hold out hope that he’ll change his mind and knock on my door.
He never does.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“You seriously don’t want any of this stuff?” Nora asks in disbelief as she sorts through hangers filled with the clothes I was treated to over the summer. “Why would you want to get rid of it?”
As much as I’ve wanted to share what happened between Julian and me, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. Yes, Nora and Chloe are aware we fooled around that first weekend, but I insisted that was the only time. I never even told them we’d kissed. And often.
When we all got together the Tuesday after Labor Day and they asked about my final weekend with Julian, I lied and said it was just like every other weekend, that I was thrilled to put the summer behind me and focus on my possible promotion. I must be a good actress because neither one questioned me, not even when my phone would ping with an incoming text and I’d jump to my feet in the hopes it was Julian apologizing for his behavior.
It never was.
Now, nearly two weeks later, I’m beginning to think I’ll never hear from him again. Which is why I need to get all these clothes out of here. Not only do I have nowhere to store them in Chloe’s tiny apartment, but I can’t bear to look at them. Every time I do, the memories of my time with Julian come rushing back.
Like the way he looked at me the first time he saw me in that navy blue-and-white polka-dot two-piece. The way his mouth felt against mine the first time we kissed when I was wearing a beige maxi skirt and loose white tank. And the way we danced to him singing “Moon River” when I wore the stunning gray ballgown on our last night together.
“It’s not my style,” I say. “Take all the clothes you want. Or shoes.” I gesture to another trunk filled with dozens of shoes I only wore once. “Jimmy Choo. Manolo Blahnik. Christian Louboutin.”
Nora’s eyes widen as she darts toward the trunk, throwing it open. “You have Christian Louboutins?” A peacefulness crosses her expression as she pulls out a pair and examines the signature red sole.
“Take them. We’re the same size.”
She grins dreamily. “I love you, Evie. If I swung that way, I’d totally whore myself out for you.”
“I love you, too, Nora.” I return her smile, although it’s not as full as normal. How can it be when I’m surrounded by memories of Julian? And this is precisely why I need all this stuff out of here. I never wanted it to begin with. I purposely left them at Julian’s place, but the day after I returned to Manhattan, a delivery man appeared on my doorstep. I’d hoped Julian had sent flowers to apologize for his behavior. Instead, he had the contents of my room packed up and delivered here. No note. No apology. Nothing.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” I ask Chloe.
Standing, she gestures down her petite body. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re both at least six inches taller than me. And have boobs. Whereas I, well… I’m lucky to fit in a B cup most days.”
I nod toward a smaller trunk. “There’s jewelry. And sunglasses. That stuff will fit. Check out some of that.”
Chloe’s hesitant at first, but her curiosity eventually gets the better of her. I lay back on my bed as I watch my two friends pillage the spoils of my own war.
“You really don’t want any of this stuff?” Chloe inquires yet again, a hint of skepticism in her tone.
“I really don’t want any of that stuff,” I confirm for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Even this?”
I glance up as she pops open the lid on the signature blue Tiffany’s box, revealing the exorbitant necklace Julian gave me.
Nora’s eyes zero in on the brilliant stones encrusted in the intricate neckline, leading to an obscenely large yellow diamond. “Holy fuck! Is that real?”
Chloe lifts the necklace out of the box. Instantly, her gaze settles on a sheet of paper beneath it I hadn’t noticed before.
“What is it?”
“Certificate of authenticity,” she replies, reading it. “Fifty carats worth of diamonds. The stone is a forty-carat fancy vivid yellow diamond, with an additional ten carats of flawless diamonds in the neckline.” She looks up, meeting my eyes. “Appraised value…one million.”
I try to hide my utter shock at her words. I knew it was an expensive piece of jewelry, but I estimated maybe a hundred grand or something like that. Shows you how educated I am about the value of jewelry. But a million dollars? I can’t even wrap my mind around that amount of money. Does it matter? Chloe routinely reminded me of Julian Gage’s net worth during my time with him. A million dollars barely puts a dent in it. It’s akin to most people buying flowers for their loved one. All Julian cared about was making an impression. He used me to do so.
“Take it. I don’t want it.”
Chloe and Nora share a look before turning their inquisitive stares on me. They simultaneously advance toward me, sitting on the edge of my bed in concert.
“Okay. What the hell is going on?” Nora starts.
“You haven’t been yourself since Labor Day,” Chloe adds. “And now you want to give me a necklace from Tiffany’s worth a million dollars? Are you out of your fucking mind, Evie? How do you even have a necklace worth a million dollars? I mean, the rest of this stuff is nice, maybe worth a grand here and there, but a million dollars? What aren’t you telling us?”
“That she has a magic pussy,” Nora jokes.
“You guys know everything,” I argue, my face heating as I try to convince them the lies I’ve told are true. “Our entire relationship was for show. Julian needed a companion to conduct business and make deals over the summer months. And like you mentioned, Chloe, this was a great way to clear my mind and help me forget about Trevor. We’d agreed it would only last through Labor Day. It’s after Labor Day, so the agreement has ended. Plain and simple. Nothing more to tell.”
They both squint, crossing their arms. Chloe opens her mouth. I’ve seen that look before. The look of disbelief mixed with annoyance, the one that means she’s about to unleash an interrogation worse than I’d be subjected to if arrested for murder. Thankfully, the buzzer rips through the space and she snaps her jaw shut, pointing a finger in my face.
“This isn’t over. You’re not off the hook just yet.”
She jumps up from the bed and leaves to answer the door. I watch her disappear into the living room, then blow out a long breath. When I shift my eyes to Nora, forcing a smile, she hardens her glare.
“That’s right, Evie.” She pinches her lips, trying to frown.
I stifle my laugh at the idea of Nora being some badass bitch. She doesn’t even like it when I kill spiders, preferring to set them free instead. This woman doesn’t have a bitchy bone in her body. She’s all about peace and tranquility, the balance of mind, body, and spirit. She is the typical yoga instructor. So to see her trying to appear angry and annoyed only causes me to giggle.
“You’re not off the hook yet.”
“Oh, Nora. I almost forgot!” Scrambling to my feet, I head to one of the racks and flip through the hangers, grabbing an adorable shoulder dress in a subdued tropical print. “I’d set this aside for you earlier. I thought it would be great pre-wedding wear.”
She protests at first, but stops when I say wedding, allowing me to pull her off my bed. Since her engagement, I’ve learned discussing her upcoming nuptials to Jeremy is a surefire way to distract her. Normally, I hate discussing her wedding. Now it’s my saving grace.
“Don’t you think?”