Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1)(59)

I glanced away, ashamed to admit that I hadn’t spoken to Freddie since Georgie’s arrival. “Um, a little bit, I guess. I know the betrothal wasn’t his doing and that he wanted to break it off, I’m just not sure what he’s telling Caroline. For all I know, he could be feeding her the same bullshit in reverse.”

“Bullshit,” she repeated, testing the word on her tongue for what seemed like the first time. “That’s a fabulous word.” She nodded before glancing back at me. “Oh, yes, I understand where you’re coming from, but I assure you that Freddie isn’t some kind of womanizing playboy. He’s been truly moaning on about you since he arrived in Rio. It’s been quite nice to hear him fancy someone, but the whole Caroline situation does ruin it a bit. He’s taking her to dinner right now actually to—”

I stopped walking. “He’s taking her to dinner?”

Georgie frowned once she glanced back and saw my face. “No, no. Not as a date! He’s taking her out so that they can have the conversation. Y’know, the whole ‘betrothal over, piss off, I don’t like you, yada yada yada.’ It’s all very mature of him, really.”

I took a deep breath. “Right. Okay. So you think she’ll just go away?” I snapped my fingers. “Like that?”

Georgie smiled. “See, that’s the brilliant part. Caroline Montague is as dim as a box of bricks. I’ll bet by tomorrow morning she’ll be back on a plane to London sipping a mimosa and reading He’s Just Not That into You: Duchess Edition.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


Freddie




I ADJUSTED MY shirt. The thing was starched and stuffy—something I wore during interviews and ripped off the minute I got home. Caroline had come to my flat prior to dinner wearing a fancy dress and heels. When she’d seen my jeans and t-shirt, she’d laughed and told me she’d wait for me to change. Now, I regretted the slacks and button-down. It was too formal; the whole night was, really. The restaurant Caroline had picked was too fancy and quiet. The waiters fluttered around with champagne and wine glasses. Heavy chandeliers hung from the ceiling and there was a harpist in the corner, plucking away at a song that sounded like it belonged in a funeral dirge.

“Isn’t this place divine, Frederick?” Caroline asked, reaching her hand up onto the table for mine.

I nearly yanked it away, but I didn’t want to embarrass her. I left it there for a second or two and then pretended to cough so I could pull it away and cover my mouth.

“I didn’t think places like this even existed in Rio.” At least not the part I’d seen. We’d driven by flip-flop stands and beach shops on the way in, nothing nearly this fancy. It almost seemed like a place like this didn’t belong in the easy party atmosphere in Rio.

Caroline batted her manicured hand like I was crazy. “These places exist everywhere, you just have to know where to look.”

I nodded and fought the urge to tug at the collar of my shirt.

“Actually, Caroline, I’m glad we have a quiet moment. I’ve been discussing things with my mother—”

“Are you ready to order?”

I glanced up to see a waiter hovering over us, dressed in black with a protruding belly and an oily mustache. He didn’t even notice that he’d cut me off.

“I think—”

Caroline nodded, anxiously. “Yes, I’m starved.” I studied her as she rattled off a few appetizers and entrees for us. She looked to me for approval, and I just shrugged and let her order; it was easier that way. She’d really done herself up for the dinner. Her long wheat-blonde hair was curled in loose waves and she’d coated her lips in enough red stain to last ten years. Her eyes were dark and heavy. I couldn’t imagine keeping mine open with all the stuff she had smudged on them.

Andie wore makeup to events, but most of the time when I saw her, she’d just come from practice. She was light, fresh, freckly, and tan. She was a breath of fresh air and I would have traded all the money in the world to have her sitting across from me at that fancy restaurant. She’d make fun of the place, swearing she didn’t need a different fork for each bite. We’d pretend to like our overpriced salmon, and then we’d sneak out for a burger afterward.

I wanted that so badly, which is why I needed to be honest with Caroline.

“Listen, Caroline…”

She took a long sip from her water and leveled her gaze on me. The conversation wouldn’t be easy, and the longer I stalled, the worse it would become.

“I’ve spoken with my mother about breaking off our betrothal.”

“You’ve spoken with your mother?”

Why had I said it like that?

“I’d like to break off our betrothal,” I repeated, a bit more determined.

She swallowed and set down her glass, eyeing its placement on the table.

“You’re serious?” she asked, finally meeting my eye.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Is there someone else you’re interested in?”

Her voice was calm, but there was a hint of something behind her eyes. Jealousy? Annoyance? Caroline and I had known each other our whole lives, but I wouldn’t have called her a friend. Her family knew mine, and we were occasionally invited to the same events. I’d seen her around every now and then after it’d been announced that she and Henry would marry, but after his death, she’d nearly fallen off the face of the earth as far as I was concerned. Then, my mother had brought her up casually one day. “Have you heard from Caroline lately?” I’d ignored her interest then, but she hadn’t let that deter her. My mother continued to bring Caroline up for months before she finally came out and said it during breakfast one day.