Cruel Fortune (Cruel #2)(22)

“You think a girl who spent the last year writing and releasing a book about her time with you has forgotten you?” He snorted. “I thought you were the one who was good with women.”

I slowly straightened. Rowe was incredibly right. He’d somehow seen what I hadn’t. I’d only seen the slight. How she’d clearly expunged all of her anger onto the page. Her last-ditch effort to get back at us all.

“I have to see her,” I said at once.

Rowe grinned. “You’re in luck. Looks like she’s still in the city. Having a book signing this afternoon.” He gestured to the computer.

“That’s right now.”

“I’ll watch Aristotle,” Rowe said.

“Why does this feel like a conspiracy to steal my dog?”

Rowe just grinned.

“Okay. Okay. The Strand. See Natalie.” I nodded to myself and was about to walk out when another thought struck me. I turned back to Rowe. “If this was published with Warren, does Lewis know?”

“What do you think?”

A shudder of anger shot through me. No wonder the asshole had been acting so strange around me. I’d have to deal with him later.

“Can you wipe all of this? I don’t want Katherine to find out.”

“Easy.”

“Thanks, Rowe.”

He was already back at his computer, hiding all the connections we’d made that led us to this moment. And damn, I was thankful for him. I just hoped that Katherine didn’t ever discover this. I couldn’t imagine the fallout.

I was out of his place and in another cab in a matter of minutes. The Strand Bookstore in the Village was packed with customers even though the space was ten times as big as it looked on the outside. I’d thought it was a cozy little independent bookstore, but this was a behemoth, storied structure with miles of books on its shelves.

I didn’t see anything resembling a book signing though. Just floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, tables and tables piled high with books and recommendations, and bookish swag. A display showed Bet on It at the front of the store, and I picked up a copy.

“Are you here for the Olivia Davies signing?” a female employee asked enthusiastically. She gestured to the book in my hand.

My head popped up. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Wonderful. She’s signing on the third floor.”

I thanked the woman and then carried my book up to the top floor. I had no idea what I was going to say. A year ago, I’d rushed from New York to Charleston to sweep her off her feet. I’d thought that, if I put myself on the line, then all would be right between us. But it hadn’t worked.

Now, a year later, I had no idea if she would even want to see me. All I had was this book that said she hadn’t forgotten me. That she might still want this.

I took a step inside and froze.

There she was.

Natalie.

A year had passed, and she looked exactly the same to me. Radiant. Effervescent. She was dressed in boho attire I’d seen her in for weeks on end. Though the dress was different, it felt right to me. Her hair was wavy, down her back, and she kept messing with it as she spoke to the excited woman standing in front of her. Her eyes lit up as they chatted back and forth, likely about the book and how much the woman clearly enjoyed it. Natalie tilted her head back and laughed. An unbridled laugh that brought me back to nights in the Hamptons with her. All those nights I’d taken for granted.

And she looked so…happy.

So very happy.

Suddenly, everything else left my head. Her book. What we’d had. Why I was doing this. All I saw was the woman who’d had a dream to become an author and succeeded. Damn it all if it was a book about us that had gotten her here.

If she saw me, then I would undo all of this. This whole life she had built. The life she had always wanted. I could only ruin it. Like I’d ruined our relationship.

Natalie had made it clear a year ago that she didn’t want any part in my world. That, if it were just us, then sure, this might work. Maybe. But I was a full package. I came with the expectations of the Upper East Side, which she had made perfectly clear that she did not want. She didn’t want my life. Fuck, I didn’t even want my life. So, there was no way I could drag her back into it.

Coming here was selfish.

Her happiness and success meant more to me than anything else I was going to say to her in that moment. If there had been something I could do or say a year ago to change it, I would have done it. But there wasn’t.

And there wasn’t anything now either.

So, I took a step back, walked through the door, down the stairs, and out of the bookstore.

And let her live her life without me in it.





Natalie





9





I glanced up from the book I was signing. My eyes drifted to the entrance to the room. To the place where I was certain a dark-haired man in a suit had been standing moments earlier.

“What is it?” the woman in front of me asked at my puzzled expression.

“I thought I saw someone at the door.”

She turned and looked with me. “No one’s there now.”

“I could have sworn…” I trailed off as my brain ran away with itself. I pushed the finished signed book back to the woman.

“Thanks for coming,” I told her. I glanced back to the bookseller at my side. “Sorry. I will be back in a minute.”