Carla looks to Jackie. “Tell me, Miss Pregnancy Pants, if someone sent you pictures of your husband kissing, like, your housekeeper or something–”
“We don’t have a housekeeper.”
“In this scenario you do. And she’s super hawt. That’s hot with a W. Anyway, you get the pictures and Will is all, look she got me drunk, she kissed me, I broke it off, I told her no, I told her I love you, I swear the moment I realized what was happening I was disgusted, I would have told you the first thing but I was sleeping, etcetera, etcetera, would you believe him?”
“Of course I would,” she says.
“Without a doubt?”
“Without a doubt. I trust Will with all my heart. He would never ever do anything intentionally to hurt me. He would never even want to kiss another woman. He wouldn’t do that to me.”
And then all three of them give me a weighted look.
I chew on my lip for a moment, mulling it over. “So now the problem lies with me?”
Carla nods. “It comes down to trust. What he did was stupid but…if you believe him, you should have nothing to worry about. If you believe him, it’s something you’ll get over. It’s not something to end your relationship over. Not when you truly love a person. You don’t give up that easily.”
Ah, fuck.
“What do I do?” I ask, looking down into my wine glass. I feel like I could sink to the bottom of it and never come out.
“We can’t answer that,” Carla says. “You have to search within yourself to find the truth. And then you should probably talk to Emmett about it.”
Because he was my truth.
I take in a deep breath.
All the hurt and humiliation and pain and shame isn’t just going to go away. Even if I do believe Emmett, even if I have faith in this new him, that he wouldn’t let this happen again, how do I deal with my feelings? How do I deal with this hurt? I can’t be with him and secretly hate and resent him at the same time. I can’t go back to him until I’ve worked it out, until I’m ready.
And what if that never happens?
What if I find the real truth about us and discover that nothing was real to begin with?
Chapter 20
Emmett
Rain.
It’s one of the things that make Vancouver what it is. It’s what the tourists and locals both complain about, it’s what keeps it beautiful and green. It shows up on long weekends and tends to rain out concerts and weddings. And it’s the perfect soundtrack for a ravaged heart.
As emo as that sounds, that’s all I have right now. The rain pouring outside this coffee shop window and the ache in my heart that hasn’t subsided for the last forty-eight hours.
Actually, it’s been forty-four hours.
I still have two more hours to figure out if I’m going to pay this blackmailer’s ransom or not. If I pay it, he’ll free the photos. If I don’t, he’ll sell them to the highest bidder.
Either way, he wins. He gets the money.
And I lose.
But fuck, I’ve already lost Alyssa.
What else is there?
Take it all. I really couldn’t care.
The chime above the coffee shop rings and I look over.
It’s Autumn, right on time. Despite it being eight on a Monday morning, she’s all dressed up like she’s going to some party. Now I have to wonder why. Is it to try and win me over? The next guy? Who knows.
All I know is that she’s about to be very, very unhappy with me.
I haven’t seen her since she kissed me.
And I don’t have the best news.
“Hey,” she says to me, sitting down in the armchair across from me. If she’s embarrassed about what happened, about the way she came on to me, she doesn’t show it.
I pick up my coffee cup and gesture to the baristas. “You’re not going to get anything?”
She shakes her head. “No. I want to get right down to it.”
I open my mouth, about to tell her my plan, but she plows on through.
“I think you’re making a huge mistake.”
“What?” I ask.
“You’re leaving this down to the wire. The guy is going to flip soon, he could flip at any minute and sell those photos.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” She flinches.
“Yeah. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I don’t want to pay him.”
“Emmett, you have to.”
“Why?”
She lowers her voice, leaning over, her eyes lit with fire. “There are pictures of us kissing.”
“I’m aware. You kissed me. Someone caught it on camera.” I wait for her to protest and say I kissed her or some lie but she doesn’t. “But I’m not paying it.”
“The world will call you a cheater.”
I shrug. “I’m not a cheater. I know this. The world can think what it wants.”
“Think?” she cries out softly. “There is proof of you and me together.”
“But it’s not real.”
“Nothing has been real in your life!”
A few heads in the shop look our way at her outburst.
“Do you want to attract more attention?” I ask her dryly.
“Then why did you pick this place?”
“Because I knew you couldn’t lose your shit here. The fact is, I’m not paying. And I don’t care what people say. I know the truth and that’s all that matters.”
“But does your girlfriend? Sorry, I guess I should say ex-girlfriend.”
Heat drums through my veins, my face growing hot. “How do you know we broke up?”
She shrugs. “I figured. Why would she stay with you after what she saw? You were thrown to the curb like garbage, weren’t you?”
I jerk back, staring at Autumn with new eyes. There’s something off here about all of this, something I can’t put my finger on. An unwarranted viciousness. If only I could think faster.
“Whatever is between Alyssa and I stays between Alyssa and I.”
“If you don’t pay, you’ll shame her all over the world. People will laugh at her. Do you really want that?”
Fucking hell. No. I don’t. And that’s the only thing that’s been holding me back on all of this. I don’t want her to be humiliated. But I’ve tried to get a hold of her ever since she left my place, I even stopped by her apartment but her roommate was adamant she wasn’t home. I can’t figure out what she would want me to do.
But I think I know what I have to do.
“Alyssa is tougher than you think. Far tougher than you. She’ll handle it with grace. She’s not the bad guy here anyway, I am.”
Autumn’s eyes narrow into slits. “If you do this, you void the contract. I’ll make sure of that. And you’ll still have to pay her.”
“Fine with me. She earned it.”
“And you’ll have to pay me my bonus early. That’s in the contract too.”
I raise my brow. I’d forgotten that bit. It wasn’t much, ten grand, but it’s odd that she’s reaching for it. Guess she knows what’s coming next.
“That’s fine.”
“And then I’m no longer representing you as a client.”
“That’s fine too.”
She stares at me in disbelief. “So just like that, you’ll let me walk away?”
I frown, puzzled. “I guess so. Your services are no longer needed.”
She shakes her head, a strange look of pain across her face. “You can’t do this. You can’t do this to me. You have to pay the fifty thousand and then you can walk but you can’t…this isn’t…”
Jesus Murphy. Is this what I think it is?
“Emmett…,” she whimpers, leaning across and putting her hand on my knee. “I’ve been a part of you since the beginning. I’ve helped you and you’ve helped me and I know you care, I know you do. You don’t have to pretend anymore that I’m just your publicist, you can drop that act. You can walk away from her, but you can’t walk away from me, you can’t.”
I stare down at her hand, frozen for a moment, until I move my legs to the side and slowly get to my feet. “It was you,” I say softly as everything slides into place. “You got me drunk, you kissed me because you knew a photographer would be there. You knew because you hired him. You hired him because you are Kristoff Gantz, you wanted the money because you knew I’d leave you.”