Dirty Rumor: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(41)

No, the answer comes back, too little and too late.

I weep on the carpet by my doorway for exactly five minutes before I force myself to stand up and walk back into the apartment, trying my damnedest to swallow the painful lump in my throat.

My hands are trembling so badly I can barely swipe the screen on my phone, and it takes three deep breaths before I can collect myself enough to unlock it. But once I do, I have no idea who to text, who to call. All I have is my stupid f*cking website, which has made me an obscene amount of money and ruined my life.

Isn’t that always how it goes?

Finally it comes to me. Jessica. Jess is still in town, and she’ll want to go out before they head back to Saintland and she has to resume her queenly duties. At least, I hope she will, because if not, I’ll bury my head into my comforter and never emerge again.

My thumbs are obviously shaken by the breakup too much to send a coherent text, so I call her instead. She picks up on the second ring.

“Care!” she says brightly, and I hear her daughter jabbering in the background.

“What—” My voice comes out as a sad little croak, and I have to clear my throat before I can force the words out. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Honey, not now,” she says, her voice muffled, and then she comes back on the line. “Care, is something wrong? You sound weird.”

“What are you doing tonight?” I repeat, trying to sound brighter, happier, more whole than I feel at this moment.

“I don’t have—do we have any plans, Alec?” she calls out, and a male voice rumbles in the background. “We don’t have any plans,” she says, her voice still concerned. “Are you needing a girls’ night out?”

“As long as I’m not interrupting anything important.”

“Not possible,” says Jessica, her voice firm. “What time? Where do you want to go? The Swan?”

“No.” I say it too quickly, and Jess is silent. “I mean—let’s just go somewhere where nobody will know us. Do you know someplace more out of the way that your security detail won’t have a problem with?”

When Jessica speaks again, I can hear the smile in her voice right over the phone. “Of course I do. I’ll come by at eight and pick you up.”

“Great.” My shoulders sag in relief. At least I won’t be alone tonight, even if I am staring at a lifetime of loneliness.

“And Care?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.” That’s all I can say.

The silence lingers between us for a few moments.

“I’ll see you at eight,” says Jess gently, and then the call is disconnected.

I’m completely disoriented. What time is it, even? It can’t be later than, what, five-thirty?

I’m stunned to find out that it’s just past six o’clock. My five-minute breakdown must have lasted much longer than five minutes. I’d always considered myself a pretty accurate judge of time, but my brain fell apart when Ace left.

What’s he doing now? Is he up in his penthouse?

If I go up there right now, can I fix what happened? Can I make everything right between us? Let him know that I understand now that none of this—none of it—has been worth it if it means losing him?

You’ve already lost him, I tell myself sternly, and I try to straighten my shoulders, but they feel too heavy.

There are several thing I need to do right now, and none of them include falling into a heap on the floor and sobbing until my chest feels empty. So, as much as the floor beckons to me, I resist.

I’m meeting my friend in less than two hours.

I struggle with turning the shower on for almost thirty seconds before remembering that the knob goes the other way. What the hell is happening to me? Another man walks out of my life and I turn into this?

I’ve been really good at getting over men. I’ve had to be. Because my adulthood has been nothing but a string of men coming into my life and walking straight back out again.

But Ace—Ace is different.

Ace made me want to be near him whenever he walked into a room. Ace was irresistible, and it wasn’t just because of his body.

“Stop,” I say out loud over the rush of the shower. “Stop.”

I’m torturing myself needlessly, because if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that Ace is never—never—coming back to me.

I stand on the chilly bathroom tiles and strip off my clothes, letting that action sink in, and all it does is deepen the hole in my heart until it’s nothing less than a pit of despair.

I practice a smile.

Then another.

My face feels frozen in grief and I feel hollow and lifeless, but Jess will be coming, and I can’t look like a complete freak if we’re going to go out—even if everything is crumbling down around me. Even if the whole world is on fire.

I step into the shower and let the hot water flow down over every inch of my skin. I stay in there until I can’t stand it anymore, and then I step out, unconsciously towel myself off, and finally muster up enough strength to blast my hair with the hair dryer, brushing and straightening until it’s gleaming perfection. Makeup. A dress that makes me ooze sex appeal. Shoes.

I go through the motions.