She didn’t respond. Her silence was answer enough.
“Don’t you think that’s something a husband should tell his wife? Especially before they get married?”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Megan.” She knew she sounded short, but panic was bubbling in her gut. “He’s in the middle of a business meeting right now.”
“In Vegas? His offices are in Kansas City and Seattle. Why would he have a meeting in Las Vegas?”
Oh, God. Please don’t let this be happening. She wasn’t sure she could handle his betrayal. What was he up to? “I have to go.”
“Libs, I’m sorry. I thought you should know.”
“No.” Libby started hurrying toward the hotel. “You wanted to gloat.”
“Libby! How can you say that? We love you!”
“You may love me, but you’ve never tried to understand me.” Not like Noah had. No one had tried half as much as Noah had. “I have to go.” She hung up on Megan’s protests and turned her phone off so she couldn’t be reached.
Noah had to have an explanation. She just needed to let him tell her what was going on.
But what if he lied? He hadn’t said a thing about quitting. How could she trust him?
She was close to hysteria when she got back to the hotel room, equally relieved and upset that he hadn’t gotten back yet. She packed up the few things she had removed from her suitcase, then began to pace the room, waiting for him to come back.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a light blinking on and off on the room phone. She ignored the message, worried Megan or Blair had found out which room they were in, but what if it was Noah? He didn’t know her phone was working, and besides, she had just turned it off.
With shaking fingers, she typed in the code to hear the message, sucking in a breath when she heard a woman’s voice. “Noah, sorry to call you on this phone since I know you’re trying to keep this from your wife,” Libby heard a hint of jealousy in the word, “but just in case you didn’t get my message, come to room 1470.”
No. God, no.
She held the phone in her hand for several seconds, shell-shocked. What was she going to do?
She found herself in the elevator before she realized what she was doing.
Think this through, Libby, she told herself as she pressed the button for fourteen on the number bank. Once you do this, it can’t be undone.
But what couldn’t be undone? Her finding out he was in a business deal for a business he wasn’t part of? Or finding him fucking another woman in a hotel room while on his honeymoon with her?
The elevator stopped on the fourteenth floor and she headed down the hall, her heart pounding in her chest. The reasonable, sane part of her told her this was a mistake. Noah loved her. He wouldn’t betray her, but Blair’s voice played in her head on repeat: Noah is a user. He’ll take what he wants and move on. If he doesn’t cheat on you first.
Her father’s voice joined the party next: No man will ever really love you. They’ll want your body and your looks and they’ll lie through their teeth to get you. But when they’ve used you up, they’ll move on.
Not Noah. Please, God, not Noah too. Anyone but Noah.
Then knock on the door and find out.
Her body had been on autopilot while her mind was busy taunting her and she found herself in front of the door to room 1470, her hand suspended to knock. What if he wasn’t in there? What if he was? What would she do?
She’d put it together as it played out.
She rapped on the door and took a step back, preparing herself for what was on the other side.
A perky brunette opened the door. She was dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse unbuttoned enough to show her cleavage, and she held a champagne flute in her hand. “Can I help you?”
Suddenly, Libby felt like a fool. “I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong room.”
“That’s okay, I thought you were room service,” the woman said, then looked over her shoulder. “Noah, it’s okay. The food’s not here yet.”
Noah.
White spots danced in front of Libby’s eyes. She shoved the woman aside and marched past her.
Noah sat on the made bed, a champagne flute in his hand. His face paled the moment he saw her and he jumped to his feet.
A thousand and one possible reactions filtered through her head—screaming, crying, throwing things, pitching a royal fit—but all she could manage was to turn around and walk out of the room.
“Libby!”
She ran down the hall and pounded on the up button.
“Libby! Let me explain!”
As soon as the doors opened, she ran inside and pushed the button for their floor.
Noah was running after her, panic on his face. “Libby!”
She ignored the pleading in his voice as the doors shut on his face.
She couldn’t think, couldn’t react. She could only run. When she opened the door to her room, it occurred to her that she had to figure out what to do next. What was she going to do?
Home. She needed to go home.
When Noah burst into the room, she was already dragging her suitcase toward the door.
“Libby. You have to let me explain.”
She tried to get around him, but he grabbed her shoulders and held her in place.
“Libby! Talk to me!”
She shook her head, trying to string the words together to form a sentence. “What do you want me to say?” she finally spat out.
“Don’t you want to know why I was there?”
She shook her head, tears burning her eyes. “I already know.”
“No, you don’t.”
She jerked free from his hold and looked up into his pleading face. “Then let me tell you what I saw. You were in a hotel room drinking champagne with a woman—in a hotel room!”
“Yes! But it’s not how it looks. We were celebrating a business deal.”
“In a hotel room?”
“Yes!”
“For a job you quit last Friday.”
His face paled even more. “Yes, I was trying to get it back.”
She put her hand on her hip, some of her fire returning. “Why didn’t you tell me you quit? How could you keep that from me? I begged you to tell me the truth before you left.”
“I wanted to tell you—I was dying to tell you—but your problems seemed more important than mine. And then I figured if I could get the deal, it would be a moot point.”
“My problems.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Libby, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant you were so upset over Mitch and the wedding, it just seemed like your issues took precedence over mine.”
She ran over the details of the last couple of days in her head, looking at everything in a new light. “That woman was Tiffany.”
He sucked in a breath. “Yes. How did—”
“You sent her a Facebook friend request.” How could she have been so stupid? “She’s the reason we came to Vegas.”
Fear filled his eyes. “Yes, but it’s only because her boss was coming too.”
“Her nonexistent boss.”
“Libby, please. You have to believe me. Nothing happened. I met with her boss and presented my proposal, then, thank God, he accepted.”