Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Fucking Playboys
Sophia
The office doesn’t officially reopen until next week, but Raf mentioned he would be going in to work on some urgent paperwork, so I came in with him.
When I walk into my new office next week, I want it to feel familiar and not like I’m a stranger in my own home.
From what I can tell, having watched Raf over the years, there are some cases that have you spending more time at the office than home.
I’ve been at it for a few hours, reorganizing my stationery in draws, hanging a trio of photographs on the wall and setting my desk up so all my personal effects are just right.
The playlist Marco made me is playing in the background.
A small smile tugs when I think of him and his random texts from earlier this morning.
Since when does Marco read spicy Why Choose romance books?
He’s got some explaining to do. When I finally decide to see him again, that is.
God! Why did I decide to take up the fight against my heart’s obsession with him now?
It’s a rhetorical question, but the sensible part of my brain fills in the gaps—to focus on your career and prove you’re an independent woman who knows your worth.
Every other part of me just plain wants him.
Around me. Deep within me. Consuming me.
A notification tone breaks through the song, pulling my attention from the incessant chatter in my own head.
Shhh Don’t Tell Daddy: 1 new blog post
Curiosity gets the better of me. I click on the notification, silently berating myself both for agreeing to receive notifications let alone willingly reading a word written by that parasite of a woman.
A collection of images fills my screen accompanied with words that have my heart falling to my feet.
I can’t help myself. I take a screenshot of the images from GG’s blog and fire off one solitary text.
Me:
Is she for “research purposes” too?
The satisfaction of turning his own banter back on him dissipates quickly.
In its place returns that familiar sickening, sinking feeling.
The one that suggests I read the signs all wrong—again.
Part of me knows it’s idiotic to believe anything written in a gossip blog.
The other part knows that often there’s a semblance of truth to them.
Exhibit A: the last blog post about me and Marco.
They say the definition of madness is doing the same thing twice and expecting a different outcome.
I don’t know who “they” are, but clearly I’m a glutton for punishment, because even when I promise to give myself space from him, I end up ensnared right back in this web of feelings and history between us.
Tears pool in my eyes thick and fast, but even blanketed under my emotions, I know it’s time to face my biggest fear.
Marco Marrone is a playboy with perfect lips made for telling sweet little lies.