There were several times throughout the day when, as weak as it made me, I found myself questioning whether the photos were truly what they seemed. There was no denying that they looked bad or that they were as incriminating as hell, but they didn’t show him fucking the brunette.
Surely if Dane had screwed her, the cameraman would have sent photographic proof of it, because he clearly wanted me to believe Dane was cheating on me. Why only send pictures that hinted at it? Maybe he just liked the idea of me being confused and only able to guess.
Who was the bitch anyway? Dane sure seemed to know her well, and he was comfortable enough in her home to venture up to her bedroom.
If there was anything innocent about his association with her, he wouldn’t have lied that his dinner meetings had ran late on those particular evenings. He would have just said he’d visited a friend—or whatever the hell she was to him. So, no, I wasn’t going to let myself hope that he could explain all this away.
At the end of the workday, my phone beeped just as I switched off my computer. I picked up my cell and swiped my thumb over the screen.
It was a message from Dane: Sam and I are waiting for you outside the main entrance.
I ground my teeth and harshly dumped my cell in my purse. Shit, I needed to keep it together. I didn’t want to have a full-on blowout with him in front of Sam. The conversation needed to be had, but not until we were alone. The thing was, Dane didn’t like to wait. He’d easily sense I was pissed. He read me too well. He’d want answers straight away.
What I really needed was to avoid talking with him throughout the journey. That meant I needed to have something else that required my attention; something that would also distract me and keep me preoccupied.
I paused as an idea came to me. Ashley loved to talk on the phone. She could do it for hours. I could call her as I was leaving o-Verve and keep the conversation going until I arrived at Dane’s house. He wouldn’t think anything of it, and he’d probably occupy himself by doing work-related stuff on his phone anyway.
As I made my way to the first floor, I called Ashley. Just as I’d hoped, she was more than happy to talk. Outside, I slipped into the car and gave Dane a too-quick smile without even pausing in my conversation with her. A conversation that turned out to be very easy to keep going.
It wasn’t until we pulled into the courtyard that I said, “I’ve got to go now, Ash.”
“Sure thing, girl,” she said. “See you soon. Tell Mr. Hottie I said hi.”
I ended the call, gave Sam a wave, and followed Dane into the house. He often went straight to his home office, but today he headed to the den and slipped behind the small bar.
He flicked me a look as he poured brandy into a crystal tumbler. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
I folded my arms. “When you made it a habit to retreat to o-Verve of an evening and started attending those dinner meetings that always seemed to run late, I thought you might be avoiding me. Avoiding being here alone with me for some reason, like you worried I’d get caught up in all this and forget it was fake. Did you really go to o-Verve on those evenings, Dane? Did those meetings really run so late? Or were you spending some time elsewhere?”
Frowning, he set down the brandy bottle. “What is this, Vienna?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Because I’m wondering why you’d even ask it.”
“You stipulated that neither of us would sleep with anyone while we were faking being a couple.”
One brow arched. “Are you accusing me of not following that stipulation?”
“Just answer my question, Dane.”
His eyes narrowed. “Have Travis and Hope been whispering shit into your ear again? Is that what this is?”
“You’re still dodging my question.” I took one step closer to the bar. “Either you be straight with me about this or I walk.”
A dark emotion flickered across his face. “Didn’t I tell you not to threaten me with that ever again?”
“I let you keep your secrets, Dane. I respect your right to have them—it’s not like we’re a real couple who needs to be open with each other. But this is different, so I want to know the truth.”
“You think I’ve been sneaking around with other women? That’s what you think?”
My heart sank. He was avoiding the question because he didn’t want to admit the truth. Anger rose up sharp again before the pain could swallow me. “Fuck this.” I spun on my heel and stalked across the room.
“Vienna—”
I whirled and jabbed a finger in his direction. “No, if you don’t respect me enough to give me a straight answer then I’m done here. I don’t expect you to care for me, confide in me, or bare your soul, but you could at least be straight with me when it counts.” I dipped my hand into my purse. “Oh, I think this will appease your curiosity.” I tossed him the flash drive, which he caught easily. “Have fun,” I spat.
Breathing hard, I hurried upstairs and marched into my room. Closing the door behind me, I flipped the lock just in case he thought to follow me. I wasn’t interested in anything he might have to say. I needed to pack my shit and go.
I stilled, remembering that I only had my small suitcase. Shit, I’d have to leave most of my things and just pack some clothes and essentials. Then I could go to … well, I wasn’t sure yet. Anywhere but here.
Storming into the walk-in closet, I grabbed the small case from a shelf and began to fill it with the clothing I’d need. The back of my throat ached, and it felt as though a massive pressure sat on my chest.
Tears stung my eyes—not just tears borne of hurt, but of anger. I would not cry. No. I refused to shed any tears over him.
I used the tricks I’d learned as a child to fight back tears—pinched the skin between my thumb and forefinger and pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. It was Freddie who’d taught them to me. They worked now, just as they always had in the past.
Marching out of the closet, I tossed the other items I’d need into the case and then yanked the zipper closed. Taking a moment to compose myself, I scrubbed a hand down my face and closed my eyes. Instantly, images of him with the brunette popped into my head.
My chest squeezing, I snapped open my eyes. Fuck, it shouldn’t make me feel so sick and cold to think of him with another woman.
Hooking the strap of my purse over my shoulder, I picked up the suitcase and left the room. My insides seized as I began to descend the winding staircase. He stood at the bottom, barring my path.
“We’re going to talk,” he said, his tone non-negotiable.
Refusing to let him see the hurt churning inside me, I gave him a blank look. “Another time.”
“Who sent you the flash drive?”
“I haven’t a clue. There was no note. It was posted to o-Verve and addressed to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go.”
His brow raised. “You don’t want to know who the woman is? You don’t want to know why I was at that club? I know how those pictures must look to you. Collectively, they paint a very ugly image of me—one that clearly had the desired effect, because you want to walk. But none of it is what it seems.”
Yeah. Right. “Like I said, we’ll talk another time.”