“No,” I say, “I understand. You’re married. You kept it a secret. And you got caught. So you need to understand that whatever was starting between us just ended.”
I turn, bumping into backs and shoulders and elbows as I walk off, not because I’m in a hurry but because I’m so furious I can’t see the crowd, can’t hear the music, can’t feel the floor under my feet, like I’m floating on anger. I’m mad at that guy and his smug fucking attitude, I’m mad at Cassie for lying to me, but most of all, I’m mad at myself for falling right into a honeytrap of betrayal again. Just like before, with Caroline, I’ve been seeing only what I wanted to see all along in Cassie. I’ve been letting myself believe she cares about me because I care about her.
Or who I thought she was.
But the one thing I can see now is that her sweetness was really deception, and I fell for it, like a feint with a left jab, only to be knocked out by a right hook—something that never happened to me in a fight, but that hurts much worse outside the ring anyway.
CASSIE
CH. 25
I didn’t sleep at all last night. Seeing Sebastian at Altitude was like discovering poison ivy growing in the flower garden you just planted: surprising and distressing and toxic if it touches you. When I left England, no explanation, no good-bye, I expected him to be irritated. Maybe I even wanted him to be a little upset, to get a taste of the way I’d felt for much of our whole marriage. But I honestly didn’t think he’d come after me, that he’d track me down and ambush me and have the nerve—or stupidity—to think I’d go along with it, that I’d go back to him. And I can’t help but worry about what it means that he did.
But I also couldn’t sleep for worrying about Ryder and what I’ve done to him. To us. At dawn, I got out of bed and went to the back patio swing, listening to the birds start their day and thinking about how everything could have been different if I’d just told Ryder the truth already. I thought if I just ignored Sebastian, not only would he go away, the past would go away, dissolve like ice in the sunshine of the present.
But the only thing that went away was Ryder. I tried to follow him when he walked away from me at Altitude last night, but it was like he was swallowed up by the crowd. I shouldered my way to the bar, the kitchen, the storage room, but he was nowhere, not even his office. “Have y’all seen Ryder tonight?” I asked Shelby and Avery and Ruby and Savannah, who were on the last drop of scotch.
“Only in my fantasies,” Avery said. They all laughed, and not an hour before, I would have laughed, too, blushing at the thought of what my fantasies of Ryder usually involved. But at that moment all I could fantasize about was getting to talk to him again.
I came into work as planned this morning but he still isn’t here, and no one seems to know where he is. Or at least no one’s telling me. “Come on, Cash,” I say, leaning across the bar as he wipes out the highball glasses. “You haven’t heard from him at all today?”
Cash shakes his head. “Have you tried calling him?”
“Yeah,” I say. About a thousand times, but he’s not picking up. I even tried calling from the office landline, thinking I’d sneak around the caller ID, but either he’s not taking any calls from any number or he knows me better than I think he does. I’m kind of hoping it’s the latter, because maybe that would mean that he knows what happened last night was a giant mistake. A fuckup of grand proportions that I will never, ever let happen again. No secret I have is worth the look on his face when he stormed off last night.
I go home after work. Jamie’s left a note that he’s gone out for the evening and there’s leftover pizza in the fridge, but I’m not hungry, and even though I haven’t slept, I’m not tired. I’m not really anything, and I can’t bring myself to do much more than pace around the house, checking my phone, clicking the volume button to make sure I haven’t accidentally silenced it, turning it off and on so I know I’m getting all my text messages.
I am. Not one of them is from Ryder.
Before I can change my mind, I grab my keys, jump in my car, and drive to his condo. I know that if he won’t answer my calls, he may not talk to me face to face either, but I have to try.
At the building, I buzz the penthouse a few times from the outside keypad, but there’s no answer. A young couple exit, their arms around each other, and the guy holds the lobby door open for me to enter just as I think of one more place to check for Ryder.