***
“So… Do we have any open issues we need to discuss?” I asked.
I’d just finished up for the day and walked over to his office. It was almost ten o’clock at night, and Weston had had his cell phone back for hours now. Yet he still hadn’t mentioned anything he needed my sign-off on.
He shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”
Maybe he needed a little reminder, because he forgot… “What about any repair work or estimates we both need to sign-off on? I brought you one from the Wi-Fi company that wants to upgrade our service a few hours ago. Do you have anything for me?”
Weston seemed to give it some thought. “Nope. The only thing I have outstanding is the revised timeline the Boltons owe us. Other than that, I think we’re all good.”
My stomach felt hollow. Could he have forgotten the email?
“Well, I’m going to head upstairs. I have a lot of emails that came in today that I still need to respond to. How about you? You buried under, too?”
Weston shrugged. “Nope. Actually, I’m all caught up.” He smirked. “Guess I’m a lot more efficient than you.”
I forced a smile. I wasn’t ready to walk away from his office yet, because I was still clinging to hope he’d remember something. But I also couldn’t think of anything else to say. So I stood there awkwardly. At least I felt awkward.
Eventually, Weston said, “I’ll meet you upstairs in a little while. I need to finish a few things.”
I felt deflated. “Okay.”
Back in my room, I was disappointed in myself. Why hadn’t I just asked him about the email? Reading one line of a message preview on his phone had been entirely accidental. He couldn’t be mad about that. Yet instead of putting myself out of my misery, I’d allowed my dark thoughts to fester.
In my heart, I knew the real issue had nothing to do with me having done anything wrong. I wasn’t nervous about telling Weston I’d read a message on his phone. I was nervous about him saying it wasn’t what I thought, and me not believing him. My trust issues ran deep, and I hated that I assumed the worst. So instead, I hid my fears and attempted to cling to hope that the situation would resolve itself.
He’s probably going to see that email and mention something to me when he gets up here. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.
Rather than wear away the carpet with my pacing, I decided to take a bath. I filled the tub with warm water and tossed in some bath salts. Slipping in, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and blew out a big exhale.
I’m on the beach in Hawaii. The sun is warm on my body, and the sound of the waves gently crashing against the shore is lulling me to sleep.
But… Where’s Weston? Why didn’t he come with me?
Because he’s a lying bastard who I don’t talk to anymore. That’s why.
I took another deep, cleansing breath and tried to change my focus.
This time, I went to a happy place I’d had in London, which had nothing to do with Weston—a small park that overlooked the river, a few blocks from where I’d lived. Unfortunately, when I imagined myself sitting on a swing, taking in the peaceful view, I noticed a couple lying on a blanket in my periphery.
Liam and my cousin.
I turned to run the other way, and my father loomed over me.
He tsked. “I told you so.”
I sighed and opened my eyes. Maybe I should try some music, something I could sing along to. Reaching over to where I’d left my phone, I called up my Spotify app and dug out a playlist of oldies I figured I’d know most of the words to. After about six or seven songs, I finally felt my shoulders relax a little. Until Billy Joel’s “Honesty” came on. He crooned about how lonely the word was and how hard it was to find truth, and whatever tension I’d managed to soak away seeped right back in. Frustrated, I got out of the tub and turned off the music before the song finished.
After I dried off, I wrapped myself in one of the hotel’s comfy robes and slathered on some face and body cream. I headed down the hall to the bedroom, and jumped when I found Weston inside, taking off his shoes.
“Holy shit.” My hand covered my heart. “You scared me to death. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Weston tossed his second shoe aside and stood. He smirked. “That’s because you were busy belting out some bad old songs. You’re lucky you’re gorgeous and smart, because you can’t sing for shit.”
I cinched my robe closed tighter. “Singing helps me relax.”
Weston walked over and placed his hands on my shoulders. “I know something that’ll help you relax that doesn’t entail neighboring guests thinking we’re murdering cats in here.”
He was teasing, but I found it hard to force a smile, and he noticed.
Weston slipped two fingers under my chin and tilted it up so our eyes met. “You okay?”
I looked away. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah, I get it. We’re getting down to the wire now. I’ll tell you what, I’m going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll come back and rub your shoulders with that cream you like so much.” He leaned down to look at me.
I wanted to trust him in the worst way, so I searched for any sign of insincerity. But I found nothing.
“Why don’t you take off that robe and climb under the covers and get ready for me?” he said. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
I forced a smile and nodded.
He gently kissed my lips before disappearing into the bathroom. A few minutes later, I was still standing in the same place when I heard the shower turn on. What was I going to do? He had no idea what was on my mind, so he was likely going to come out of the bathroom, rub my shoulders, and think that was foreplay. There was no way I could let that happen the way I felt. I had to have a conversation with him.
My head spun as I went round and round, weighing my options on how to approach the subject without sounding accusatory. I was so lost in thought that the sound I heard coming from the bathroom didn’t register right away. Weston was playing Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’,” one of the songs I’d sung along with toward the end of my bath. I patted my robe pocket and realized I must’ve left my phone next to the tub, and he’d decided to flip on my playlist. A few seconds later, a deep voice joined Steve Perry for the chorus. Weston could not only carry a tune, but his voice was kind of sexy. Even with all the horrible things I was thinking, I had to smile at his sense of humor. He was mimicking me to tease.
God, I really, really liked him and wanted everything to be one big misunderstanding on my part. I felt desperate to be put out of the misery of not knowing.
I walked over to what had become my side of the bed. But my eyes caught on something silver toward the foot of it—right next to where Weston had just sat.
My heart started to palpitate.
Weston’s phone.
I had another chance.
I could take a quick look, and this could all be over.
I wouldn’t even have to bring it up.
Weston would never know I’d doubted him.
In less than thirty seconds, I could be out of my misery and know he’d done nothing wrong.
Or…
Or…
I couldn’t bring myself to think about the alternative.