Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)(81)

Kaori whipped out a pricing sheet, along with a simple, single-page contract. Ten minutes later, the deal was done.

Misaki grinned. “This is fantastic. Okay, we’re going to walk around town for a while. Ford, text us when you’re ready to go.” She linked arms with her sister. “This place is so strange. Like a movie set or something.”

They walked out of the store. Madeline took their clothes to the back. They’d already agreed the ball gown would go in the front window and the suit would be displayed in the side window.

Isabel looked at Ford. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “You were upset. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You found me designers. That’s impressive.”

“Their brother is a buddy of mine. He was always talking about them. They were a handful for his parents. I thought I remembered him mentioning they were designing clothes now, so I got in touch with him. I drove out to get them this morning.”

She walked into his embrace and held him tight. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He hugged her back. “You were hurting and I didn’t know what to do. It’s in my nature to fix things.”

She raised her head and looked at him. “You fix good.”

He flashed her a smile. “Thanks. They’re both excited about New York. Misaki wants to move there, but Kaori says they have a West Coast vibe and have to stay here.”

It took her a second to understand what he was saying, and then she got it. Of course. Ford still assumed she was leaving. That even without Sonia she was going to return to New York. Because she’d always said she would.

Only now she was less sure about anything.

She opened her mouth to tell him that she might not be leaving, then pressed her lips together. Not for the first time it occurred to her Ford was perfectly happy with the idea of her walking away.

* * *

CONSUELO HIT THE BAG HARD. She was already dripping sweat and her arms had started to tremble from exhaustion. Anyone else would call it a day, but she couldn’t. Not while she could still think.

Rage burned hot and bright inside her. If she stopped hitting the bag, she would hit something else. She would take out her anger on someone innocent, and that never went well.

For the greater good, she told herself as she hit the bag—left, right, left right.

She’d done it. She’d allowed herself to believe. She’d given herself body and soul to a man, and he’d turned out to be as much of an ass**le as all the rest.

Kent hadn’t contacted her in two days. She’d spent the night with him, had made love until they were both exhausted and then she’d gone home. And since then, there had been nothing. Not a single word.

She wasn’t sure where she wanted to put all her anger. Most of it was directed at herself. For taking the chance, when she knew better. But some of it went to him for making her believe. He’d encouraged her to trust him. Somewhere along the way he’d decided to play her, and she’d practically handed him a script.

Ford walked into the gym. He looked cocky and proud of himself. She glared at him.

“What?” she demanded.

He came to a stop and studied her for a second, then held up both hands. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

“For once you’re right.”

“Want to talk about it?”

She glared at him. “Do I ever?”

“No.”

“Then you have your answer. What are you so happy about?”

He squared his shoulders. “Isabel had a problem and I fixed it.”

She gave him a pitying look. “Seriously? You believe that?”

“Sure.” He told her about the phone call from Sonia and how her friend no longer wanted to go into business with her.

Consuelo winced. “That sucks. Betrayed by two people she trusted back-to-back. How did you help?”

“I found her two new designers. Sisters. Their brother is a SEAL. They’re willing to work with her in New York.” He grinned. “Problem solved.”

“You’re such an idiot.” She dropped her arms and started to remove her gloves. “And you have it bad.”

“It?”

“You’re falling for Isabel. The master of noninvolvement has gotten caught in a net he never even saw.” She supposed she should be happy that her friend had found someone. She wasn’t mean-spirited enough to wish the whole world be as miserable as her.

“It’s great,” she added, hoping she sounded sincere. “I like her a lot. She’s better than you deserve, but then, you were always lucky.”

He took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t pretend to be an idiot. You’re not far enough from the real thing for it to work. You care about her.”

He looked confused and uncomfortable. “Sure. We’re friends, but we’re not really together. We’re fake-dating. Because of my mom.”

“Not after all this time.” She pulled off the first glove, then the second. “You’re practically living in her house, aren’t you? You spend all your free time with her, you’re sleeping with her and it’s the best it’s ever been.”

Like her night with Kent, she thought bitterly.