“Once you decide, call the receptionist with your dates. If we’re still available, we’ll send you our contract. After that, Debbie will create a timeline and suggest some dates for your first meeting.”
“Let me discuss this with my fiancé, and we’ll get back to you early next week.”
“Of course.” She places her business card in front of Misty. “There’s my email. You can reach me through my direct line, or you can call Debbie.”
There’s a knock on the door. Holly, the owner and who I now assume is her best friend, enters the room. Why didn’t I put two and two together? Probably because there are a lot of Hollys in Colorado and the world.
“Sorry to interrupt, Liv, but your two o’clock is in the waiting room.”
“Perfect timing,” Olivia smiles and shakes Misty’s hand. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call me.”
She glares at me. “Congratulations.”
Chapter Thirty
Olivia
Misty grabs Eros’s hand as they walk outside the conference room. Any other day, I’d walk them to the door and chat about their plans for the day. I’d try to remind them that I’m here to help. I can’t. All I want to say is, “Your fiancé is a cheating bastard. While you’ve been together, he’s slept with at least one other woman—me.”
Should I check myself for STDs? The guy swore I was the only one in years. I’m so gullible I believed him.
The eighteen-year-old who had a massive crush on Eros is crying. All the memories of us shatter and fall to the floor. The first moment I saw him. Our time at the airport. His offer to go home with him because I didn’t have any place to stay for the night. The first kiss we shared.
“Do you want to share with the class?”
I shake my head.
“Something happened there. I heard the ‘fucking bastard’ scream coming from the bathroom,” she insists. “If you don’t want us to take this job, we won’t. I’m not going to let anyone treat you poorly, no matter who recommended us to them.”
I arch an eyebrow. “She claimed to be at a wedding I organized a couple of weekends ago.”
Holly nods. “Plus, the Prince family gave her my personal number.”
“The who?”
“They’re one of the richest, oldest families in Denver.”
“I thought you didn’t have socialites, like the New Yorkers.”
“We don’t,” she confirms. “But there are a few families that hold some power when it comes to social events.”
“Well, I won’t be here in January when they have their big event. She can waltz hand in hand with her fucking fiancé toward the sunset. I refuse to witness that.”
“What did he do?”
“Remember Eros?”
She smirks. “Your imaginary, hot, sexy boyfriend from Canada?”
I roll my eyes. “He is real. I never claimed him to be my anything,” I state and clarify the facts, “He’s American. I’m the one who is Canadian. Canadian-American.”
“Sorry, but every time you see him”—she draws air quotes—“and tell me what you guys talk about and do, it sounds surreal.”
I tilt my head toward the door. “That’s him.”
Her eyes open wide. She points at the door. “Him?”
I nod once.
“You slept with that… hunk?” she stutters.
“Several times.” I pause. “While he dated his college sweetheart.” That sentence smothers my memories with mud and filth. I feel dirty.
I. Am. The. Other. Woman.
“He was my first,” I whisper.
“Somewhere in hell, there’s a special place for people like him,” she concludes. “We won’t take that wedding.”
“You need the money.”
“We have rules,” she reminds me. “We can’t be emotionally involved with the bride or the groom. You slept with him. I hate him.”
I don’t think that’s a real rule, but this is why I love Holly. She’s the most loyal friend in the world. I feel pathetic. How stupid was I to believe all his lies? I doubt everything he told me since we met. That fun family that traveled all over the world while growing up. He made me want to visit other countries.
“Well, I just got closure,” I state. “If I ever thought we’d hook up again or have a coffee together, I won’t do it.”
“You know how you can forget about the bitter taste of this encounter?” I give her a questioning look. “Let me set you up with—”
“Seriously, Holly?”
“Hear me out,” she insists.
“I have work to do. You need to head home to rest,” I order.
Ever since I moved to Denver, she’s been trying to set me up with her friends, neighbors, or her husband’s friends. I don’t want to be with just anyone. I’m not ready to find the man of my dreams. “I’m over men and Eros Brassard—or is it Brown?”
Holly turns around and speeds up toward her office. “Did you say his name was Eros?”
“Yes,” I repeat, catching up with her. “I thought his last name was Brassard. He lied about it too.”
“Fucking asshole!” The thunk sound on her desk makes me jolt.
When I enter her office, she’s staring at the screen of her computer. “His name is Taylor Brown.”
I shake my head, walk around the desk, and read the information. It reads Misty Wilfred and Taylor Brown. “This is wrong. I had no idea what to call him. He reminded me that his name is Eros. His fiancée didn’t correct him.”
I wrack my brain trying to remember if I ever heard him mention the last name Brown—or the name Taylor.
“Something doesn’t add up,” she states, taking back the folder and dialing the phone. “The number they gave us goes to a sandwich place.”
“Didn’t we call to remind them about this meeting?”
She shakes her head. “No. She called yesterday to set up the meeting. I remember because Debbie and I were on our way out. She called me on my phone. You were at the Silas event.”
“We never give a last-minute appointment. Can you check the caller ID for her number?”
“They were recommended by the Prince family,” she states while looking at her phone. “No. It was an unknown number. I had to give her an appointment. No one mentions the name Lorna Prince casually.”
“Who is Lorna?”
“The wife of the late Richard Prince. He died like five years ago, leaving his estate to his five children. Three scorching guys. His daughters are gorgeous. We’ve organized several events for them, including the wedding of her oldest daughter.”
“So, one of the most powerful women in society’s name is mentioned, and you jump?”
“It’s business, Liv.” She nods. “I knew you were available and just booked her. They wanted you.”
“Are you sure we’re not taking it?” I repeat.
“If Lorna calls, I’ll just tell her the groom is a fucking cheater.”