Nemesis(30)

“Well, when you put it like that,” I start, wrapping my arm around his waist, “surprise me.”

“Keep an eye on her,” he tells Chad, then heads to the bar. I scan the room, and am glad I wore a black dress instead of skinny jeans—all the women are very dressed up. It’s a high-class bar, not like the place Sadie and I practically call our home. My phone vibrates, and I know it’s my mother calling me. She lives over east and will usually call me once a month to catch up on everything that’s going on in our lives. I put my phone on silent and make a mental reminder to call her tomorrow morning.

“Do you want to sit down?” Chad asks me, gesturing to a nearby table. He’s dressed well, in a black shirt and dress pants, and I was right, he’s very good-looking. Do sexy men only make friends with other sexy men? It’s like they hang out in packs or something. I should bring Sadie out with me next time Cohen’s friends are going to be around. Of course, only if things don’t work out well with her and Ian.

“Sure,” I say, and he ushers me to the table with a hand lightly on my shoulder. I sit down and he does the same.

“Aren’t you meant to be mingling?” I ask him, trying to make small talk.

“Not if I don’t feel like it,” he replies, grinning.

Cohen returns with two drinks in hand, and flashes Chad an unhappy look. “There you are.”

“I thought the lady would be more comfortable sitting,” Chad tells him, threading his hands together and resting them on the table.

Cohen sits next to me, placing my drink in front of me.

“Thank you,” I say, bringing the glass to my lips. The drink is red and when the liquid hits my tongue, I realise it’s something I’ve never tasted before.

Whatever it is, it’s delicious.

“You like?”

I nod. “It’s good.”

“It’s a drink Chad made up.”

My eyes widen. “That’s impressive.”

Chad grins and stands. “And on that note, I’m going to be social. Lovely to meet you, Jacinta. Give me a call when you get sick of Cohen.”

With a cheeky grin, he leaves.

And I can see why Cohen didn’t want Chad near me on that first night.





Chapter Sixteen


I’m reapplying my red lipstick in the bathroom when a beautiful woman with curly blonde hair walks in, followed by another pretty girl, this one with dark hair and eyes.

“Are you Cohen’s woman?” the blonde asks, coming to stand at the sink next to me.

“Who are you?” I ask her, because even I don’t know the answer to that question, as sad as it is.

She smirks at me. It’s a knowing smirk, and I don’t like it.

“I was one of his women,” she says, turning to face me, waiting for me to react.

Her words are similar to Dan’s, and I know that something isn’t right.

I know right then that they’re right. They know the truth, and I don’t.

My heart stops beating, and I turn myself to shutdown mode. This keeps me from overreacting. As an Aquarius, I’ve noticed that I’m either overly emotional, or unemotional, one of the two. If I react, I will overreact, and then I will regret it.

I’d rather show no emotion, and therefore no weakness.

“And what does that mean, exactly?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “What do you want?”

The dark-haired girl grabs her friend’s arm. “Rebecca, let’s go.”

“No,” Rebecca tells her emphatically. “Because I don’t think Cohen has been completely honest with this one. Cohen Lake doesn’t date, not exactly. His version of dating is to be with a few different women at the same time,” she explains, gauging my reaction. “He doesn’t sleep with randoms. He just has a bunch of women on call, usually about four of them, who he will see on different nights of the week. He’ll go out with them, f*ck them, talk to them, everything. It’s like having a real boyfriend for the most part, except for the fact that he’s doing everything he’s doing with you with several other women as well.”

I keep my expression neutral, but inside I’m dying.

My chest feels constricted.

I put my lipstick in my purse and move to leave. Rebecca grabs my arm and I turn to her, my eyes narrowed, chin lifted. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says, letting go of me.

I turn and leave the bathroom, but instead of going back to Cohen, I walk to the exit. I get into a taxi, and then I go straight home.

Sadie is home alone when I get there, so I jump into her bed and tell her everything.

I cry.

It’s usually Sadie crying to me but, for the first time ever, our roles are reversed.

I’m the one crying, and she’s the one soothing me.

Someone bangs on the door, and I know it’s him.

We don’t answer.

I put my hands on my ears, close my eyes, and pretend tonight never happened.

*****

“You’re not going to even give me a chance to explain?” Cohen asks the next day.

I’m on the couch, watching TV, a tub of ice cream in my hand.

Mourning. I’m in mourning.

“Nope,” I reply, not even wanting to look directly at him.