When he swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, he confirmed her worst fears. How had she read him so wrong? He’d gotten what he wanted and was leaving.
Never again, she’d promised herself, and yet here she was…again. This time, it wouldn’t be her who got dumped. She’d beat him to it.
“Jason called the paparazzi,” he said, finally.
Way to state the obvious. Now to get him to state something even more obvious. “Kelli delivered your message. You don’t want them to know we—”
“We can’t be photographed together. The timing isn’t right,” he said, cutting her off, then checking his watch.
“Of course it isn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“Will the timing ever be right? When will it ever not interfere with your plans and schedules? With your crafted image of the hotshot playboy? I don’t even know who you really are,” she said, amazed at her stupidity. “Which mask are you going to choose, Michael? You need to pick one, because juggling them both is impossible.”
“You know exactly who I am. My God, Mia, you said you loved me.” The hurt look on his face seemed so real. So genuine.
And despite what her head said, her heart softened a bit. “You can’t have it both ways. You’re either the fun, funny guy I fell in love with who happens to have a successful business, or you’re the stuffy control freak who will only be seen in the right places with the right people for the right reasons—which, if you ask me, just isn’t right. What’s it going to be, Michael?
“You don’t understand. It’s not that simple.”
“Yes it is. Because I’m that simple. Your two realities don’t intersect, and I only fit into one of them.”
“We can’t be together in photos right now. They’ll tear you up, Mia. I know these people. I know what they’ll do to you and your reputation. Maybe even your job.”
Or his job. The spot on her heart that had momentarily softened glazed over with a hard shell. There was no doubt in her mind she had not misunderstood him like she had last night—hell, even that had been an act, she realized as she stared at his perfectly beautiful lying face. He sounded sincere, and the sentiment that he was doing it for her was nice, but why would she care if the papers put up a picture of them together? The truth was easy to see: he didn’t want to be seen with her, and that was unacceptable.
Forcing herself to affect a calm she didn’t feel, she took a deep breath. “You never answered me when I asked you what it was you really wanted. Now, I know. Your business and your image are more important to you than anyone or anything else. Your desire to control is even stronger than your need to be loved. I feel sorry for you.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t even appear to breathe. “So you’re not coming with me.”
“No. I’m here for my best friend’s wedding. I don’t give a shit what the paparazzi thinks or says. I’ve said this to you before, but I want to share it with you again.” She could hear her broken heart beating in her ears. “Sometimes you do things because you love someone. Even if they are things that make you look silly, or less powerful, or less attractive.” She yanked the scarf from the handle of her suitcase and wrapped it around her neck. “Or unattractive—I think your word was ‘ghastly’.”
By the devastated look on his face, she could tell he knew they were done. But she needed to make sure he knew it with certainty. He’d closed the deal to his satisfaction, and now she’d close it to hers.
“Please hear me out,” he said.
“No. I heard you out. I hear you loud and clear. Through your actions, your words, and messages sent through friends. Now you hear me out.” The frustrated look on his face reminded her of the one Jason used to get when he lied. This time, she wasn’t going to be played the fool. “You asked me something last night and told me not to answer you right then. You told me to think about it. Well, I’ve thought about it and I have an answer for you, Michael.”
She grabbed the ends of the scarf in her fists. “No! The answer is, no. I will not move in with you. And, no, I will not be seeing you again. You’ve made a choice: you chose control and image. And I hope it was a good one for you, because it is really shitty decision making as far as I can tell.”
“Mia, please listen…”
She held up a palm to silence him. “You told me I needed to believe in myself. Well, clearly you need to heed your own advice, because I believe in myself a lot more than you believe in me. I’m better than this.”
And as she stood there staring at him, it struck her that she believed every word she was saying. He was right; faith in herself was the key. Never would she sell herself short again. If nothing else, she was coming out of this fiasco of a weekend with some mind-blowing sexual experience and a full-on belief in her own worth.
When his phone rang, he ignored it, but she could see the limo from the door’s sidelight window.