Room for You(72)

I couldn’t f*cking believe what I was hearing. When did Blaire talk to her again? Oh my God … the charity dinner. That’s why Kacie has been so weird with me ever since. Fuck, how could I have been so stupid not to figure this out sooner?

My blood was boiling, but I didn’t move an inch, I had to hear what else was said in that bathroom.

“You were behind her, did you see her face when I walked in?” Kendall giggled. “Classic.”

Holy shit, Kendall was in that bathroom too?

“No, but I wish I could have, I bet she almost shit her pants.” Blaire could hardly talk because she was laughing so hard. “Tough shit. Little Mommy can go find a meal ticket somewhere else. Maybe she’ll scoop up a nice baseball boy this time.”

“Maybe I’ll snag him while he’s on the rebound,” Kendall snickered.

“Yuck. I don’t know why the hell you want him, Kendall, seriously. You can do so much better.” Blaire sounded annoyed. “You two did your disgusting thing, he wasn’t exactly beating down your door. Move on. Besides, didn’t you just hear me? He needs to worry about blocking goals, nothing else.”

I’d heard enough.

I stomped out of the wine cellar, and both of their mouths hit the floor when they saw me.

I glared at Blaire, my chest heaving in anger. “You chased her away! It wasn’t me, it was you, you f*cking cunt!”

Blaire didn’t argue; she stood there, shell-shocked. She knew she was busted.

“Brody…”

“Shut it, Kendall…” I snapped at her. “I expected this behavior out of Blaire, but you too?”

She said nothing, just looked at the ground while I turned my attention back to Blaire.

“What the f*ck is your problem? You feel so goddamn wretched living in your own skin that you have to make others feel like shit so that you feel better?” My blood boiled as I stood over her, not caring how loud I yelled anymore. “She did nothing to you Blaire, nothing! You use everyone. People are things to you, and if they can’t do something for you, you shit on them. Congratulations on being a terrible f*cking human being.”

Blaire’s lip quivered as Andy and the other guys came to see what the yelling was about.

“What’s going on?” Andy asked nervously.

“Andy, I love you like a brother, but you’re fired,” I said to him as calmly as possible before I turned to Blaire one more time. “I warned you, you bitch. You f*ck with me, I’ll f*ck you ten times harder. I just hit you where it really matters to you ... your bank account.”





A few weeks ago, before Brody’s and my … falling out, he asked me about going to a second charity dinner. I said yes. That dinner was last night and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I was silently staring at my phone all day yesterday, hoping that Brody was going to call and tell me he was on his way to come and get me. Unfortunately, my phone was silent all day.

Today, I didn’t want to get out of bed. I wanted to lie there and sulk and feel bad for myself even though I knew I’d caused my own pain. Every single day over the last three weeks I had at least one moment, or twenty, where I wanted to pick up the phone and tell him I was stupid and I was sorry and to please forgive me, but I never did. Pride is an evil bitch.

My phone rang on my nightstand.

“Hey, how are you today?” Alexa asked after I answered it.

“I’m fine. Feeling sorry for myself, but fine.” I yawned.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yeah, that’s all I did, actually. I went to bed early so I couldn’t think about it.”

“Have you been up today yet?” she asked slowly, cautiously.

“No, I’m still in bed. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Liar. What?”

“Nothing, really. Call me after you’re up and moving.”

“Alexa Renee … I listened to you lie to your parents daily growing up. Don’t pull that ‘nothing’ shit with me.”

She was quiet for a minute before she let out a heavy sigh. “He went.”

“He went where?”

“To the dinner.”

I laughed. “I knew he would, Alexa, it was for one of the charities he sponsors.”

“He … didn’t go alone.”

“Oh.”

A bomb went off inside my stomach, the tremors reaching all the way out to my fingertips. The thought of him taking another woman to the dinner I was supposed to go to, walking the red carpet with her, holding her hand … made me ill. I got off the phone with Alexa and grabbed my laptop, trying to talk myself out of looking the whole time I typed ‘BRODY MURPHY’ into the search bar.

The most recent link was from late last night. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I clicked on it.

My heart sank.

Brody looked delicious all the time whether he was in workout clothes, blue striped pajama pants, or in a black tuxedo like in this picture. His hair was shorter, making his smile look bigger, more defined. He grinned at the cameras and I could tell from this picture that he was “on.” He was in superstar mode.

A gorgeous redhead was beside him, beaming like she’d just won the lottery. She was with Brody, so I suppose she had. She wore a long, hunter green dress and had boobs to die for. Her lips were painted fire engine red to match her nails. His fingers were intertwined with hers and they both flirted with the cameras like a couple of models. She certainly rocked that red carpet way better than I did. She was beautiful, and I hated her.