“What the f—”
“I tried to tell you before you left the ball.”
I spin around, mouth open, to find Rachel standing behind me, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving. Her normally perfect bun askew. “I chased after you but you’d already gotten in the taxi.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before? We spent hours together while I was getting ready!”
She drops her eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe you and Adam would work it out and it wouldn’t matter.”
“What does Adam have to do with this?”
“He’s the one who moved all your stuff into his place. As like, a surprise engagement present.”
Adam fucking Archer. What the hell is up with him? Did he always just stampede over people and then pretend it was a ‘present’ or a ‘surprise’ or was it only with women he was supposedly engaged to?
The gods want everything. But Adam isn’t a god. He’s a spoiled rich boy.
My hands are in my hair as if I’m about to rip it out by the roots. I force myself to let go, lower my hands and huff out a long breath. “This is so not okay. Where am I going to sleep tonight?” There’s zero furniture left in my townhouse. Just a dust outline of where my pictures used to hang on the wall. Fucking Adam Archer.
“You know what? Fuck this. I’m going to sleep in my own damn apartment. Come on. Let’s go get my stuff from Adam’s. You game?”
Rachel looks uncertain. “I don’t know. It’s so late already.”
I pull my phone out of my small clutch. “It’s only nine forty-five. And I don’t even have pajamas to change into here!”
Rachel bites her lip. “I’d say you could come back to my place but the guy I’ve been seeing has been staying over a lot and he’ll be there tonight…”
And now I feel like crap. “Oh Rachel.” I grab her hands. “I’m such a shit. You’ve got your whole life going on and a new guy and I haven’t even asked you about it. I swear I’m going to start being a better friend.”
She squeezes my hand and smiles wanly. “It’s okay. Really. Don’t worry about it. The new guy isn’t that serious.”
“But he’s staying at your place all the time?”
She waves it away. “Let’s go get your stuff. One drama at a time.”
I frown at my friend. Usually whenever she’s got a new man I can barely shut her up, she wants to analyze and dissect every single thing he’s said and done. But she’s bailing me out big time helping me tonight so I won’t push it.
“Come on,” she says, “I’ll told my cabbie to wait for me. I didn’t think you’d want to stay here.”
I nod and we hurry downstairs. I feel a little ridiculous running around town in my elaborate ballgown and updo, but whatever.
I’m taking back my life, dammit, and it starts now. With me sleeping on my own bed, with my own sheets and my own pillows.
Rachel’s quiet on the ride over. And again I feel like a crappy friend for monopolizing our friendship lately and not paying more attention to what’s going on in her life lately. I’ve been taking her for granted, and if there’s one thing I want to do better in my new life, it’s to value the people in life who matter.
Adam’s high-rise is next to the Crown hotel, and built to match the hotel’s famous white and gold style. All the Who’s Who of New Olympus have a permanent residence here.
“Wait for us, we won’t be long,” I start to tell the cabbie, but then Rachel jolts and says, “No, don’t wait.”
I frown at her but she says quickly, “We’ll just catch another cab. It might take awhile to gather your stuff together.”
Okay, fair enough. And cabs aren’t too hard to find in this part of town so we pay the cabbie and then walk into the lush white marble-lined lobby. My steps falter at the line of beefy security guards blocking the elevator. But Rachel knows just what to do.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” the doorman asks.
“We need apartment 32D,” Rachel leans in and flutters her lashes. “Adam Archer’s residence. He’s expecting us.”
“Of course, ma’am. One moment.” The doorman puts a phone to his ear. If he’s wondering why we’re in ballgowns with opera gloves, he doesn’t comment.
I sidle up to Rachel. “What are you doing?”
“Buzzing Adam. He’ll let us in.” She seems so confident.
“Is he here?”
“The party broke up soon after you left.” I can see she wants to ask me more questions, but the doorman interrupts.
“Apartment 32D. Right this way,” he escorts us past security to the elevators and types in a code with a white-gloved finger. Rachel thanks him prettily, but I’ve fallen silent. The mirrored elevator wall shows two disheveled debutantes.
I gnaw on my lip for thirty one of the thirty two floors. Will this send the wrong message to Adam, me coming here right after I broke off the engagement? Whatever, I’ll set him straight soon enough. He’s pulled multiple dick moves and it’s time to start setting things straight. Or rather, continue setting things straight. I started things off right at the ball and it’s time to continue taking back my own life.
Besides, Rachel’s here so it’s not like he can try anything funny. I shake my head even at the thought. Adam’s harmless. I know Logan hates him and has the elaborate conspiracy theory about him having some part in Logan’s terrible accident, but Adam’s like a tamed house cat—all the lion has been domesticated out of him through millennia of careful cultivation.
Adam opens the door with a wide smile on his face that doesn’t even dim when he sees Rachel beside me. “Ladies, welcome.” He gestures us into his apartment.
I steel my spine. “Adam, I’m just here to get my stuff back. It wasn’t cool that you moved it without even telling me.”
He nods but just keeps gesturing us inside. “I understand. I was just trying to make everything special for you when you were under so much stress, but I can see how it could be considered overstepping. I’m sorry. Look, Daphne, I’m sorry for everything. Please. Come in.”
I blink. Okaaaaaaaay, wow. I didn’t expect a genuine apology. For the first time all night, the plastic mask of his boyish good looks has cracked and I feel like there’s genuine emotion shining through his eyes.
I nod slowly and step inside Adam’s apartment.
My stuff is everywhere, mixed in with his. My lamps are artfully nested amongst his modern, angular furniture, giving a softening, feminine touch to the place. My art is mounted along the walls.
I don’t know whether to be flattered or creeped out.
Maybe if we were a real couple, genuinely in love… But we never were. Never even close. Did Adam think that was real love? A real relationship?
Compared to the intimacy I’ve found with Logan, that’s sad if he did.
Logan. Even thinking his name makes my chest clench. He hurt me tonight by not believing in me when he said he would. If he can’t trust me, then how can we ever—
“Here, let me get you a drink, and then I’ll help you gather your stuff together.”