Chapter 37
RHETT
Simone told me Clem had texted and let her know she wasn’t going to be in for the rehearsal run tonight. I didn’t have to guess why. I left Conroy in charge because I had to try and fix this disaster.
After pulling a few strings, I was pretty sure I had the solution to at least some of our problems. I was never going to be the guy that made grand gestures or was ever called a romantic, but I had a few tricks up my sleeve.
I stood on the front steps of the Hartley home, adjusting my bow tie for the third time in as many minutes. The tuxedo felt foreign after weeks of chef’s coats and polyester pants, but if I was going to make a statement tonight, I needed to look the part.
It was as close to a grand gesture as I was going to get.
In my hands was a garment bag containing a dress that had cost an eyewatering amount. It was a midnight blue silk that I knew would look good on her.
Along with the dress, I had a box with new diamond earrings. The earrings were an afterthought. I knew it was probably overkill, but I happened to walk past the jewelry department at Bloomingdales when I picked up the dress.
And buying a dress was one hell of an adventure. It took me an hour to pick the right one. Every saleswoman in the department had an opinion. And after I described Clem’s measurements, they assured me the dress would fit.
I explained she was about shoulder-high, handful in the breast area, and my hand fully splayed could cover her stomach. They thought it was funny and such a guy way to measure a woman.
I wished I could be more accurate, but it wasn’t like I checked the tags on her pajamas when they’d been lying on my hotel room floor.
When the door opened, it wasn’t Clementine who answered. A tall kid with her same hazel eyes looked me up and down with obvious curiosity.
“You must be Henry,” I said.
“And you must be the guy who’s all over the internet with my sister,” he replied, but there wasn’t hostility in his voice, just frank assessment.
I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager myself despite being thirty-four years old. “Look, I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I wanted to—”
“You wanted to what?” Henry interrupted, that grin getting wider. “Explain why you’re messing around with my sister? Apologize for the media circus? Or are you here to ask my dad’s permission like this is 1950?”
Shit, this kid was sharp. “All of the above?” I said, realizing how ridiculous I sounded.
Henry laughed—actually laughed—and leaned against the doorframe. “Dude, relax. You look like you’re about to pass out. I thought you were a tough guy.”
“So did I,” I said, shaking my head.
He looked me up and down again, taking in the tuxedo, the garment bag, the jewelry box. “Nice touch with the formal wear. But you forgot something.”
“I did?”
“Flowers.”
“Flowers?”
“Chocolate.”
“Chocolate?”
He grinned. “Nah, no chocolate. She doesn’t like that stuff. She’s all about gourmet stuff. But all of this is pretty extra.”
“Is it working?”
“On me? Yeah, it’s pretty impressive. On my dad?” Henry shrugged. “He’s been pacing around the house like a caged tiger all afternoon. Mom had to physically remove his phone because he kept refreshing the news articles.”
My stomach dropped. “How bad is it?”
“Bad enough that he’s stress-cooking.”
Every word he said was making me think all of this wasn’t enough. Was I making a complete fool of myself?
“Is she here?” I asked. I could stand here all night and try to get more dating tips from a teenage boy, but I had a feeling that wasn’t going to get me very far.
The more I talked to the kid, the more I believed my hopes for any kind of thing with Clem were slipping away. All because some asshat with a phone decided to take a picture of us making out. And post it.
Everyone just needed to mind their own damn business.
“Clem!” Henry called over his shoulder. “Your chef is here!”
I heard footsteps on the stairs, and then she appeared behind her brother, wearing jeans and an oversized sweater. She looked like she’d been crying.
My heart lurched at the sight of her. It pissed me off she was suffering because of that asshat. It was exactly why I didn’t want to cross the line. I was pissed at myself for not being able to resist touching her. Kissing her.
“Rhett?” She stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”
I held up the garment bag and jewelry box. “I came to take you to dinner. Me and you. A dinner that we’re not cooking.”
Her eyes widened as she took in my tuxedo, the gifts, the whole ridiculous romantic gesture of it all. “What is this about?”
“I saw the articles,” I said. “I saw what people are saying on social media. And I figured if they’re going to talk, we should give them something really worth talking about by being seen together.
I want them to see it’s not some torrid love affair.
It’s not dirty or wrong. If we hide, we look guilty. ”
She was silent, just staring at the dress bag like it might bite her. I thought she would want to look at it.
I held up the box with the earrings. “These go with the dress.”
It was pretty clear it was jewelry. Shouldn’t that at least be intriguing? She looked like she couldn’t care less.
I was losing before I ever got started.
“Clem, I’m not ashamed to be with you. In fact, I want this more than anything.
I’m done hiding what we have. Hiding it only makes us look guilty.
You’re the one that said we were old enough to make our own decisions.
I was wrong to try and keep this secret.
I’m sorry if I made you feel like I wanted to hide you.
You’re a beautiful woman, Clem. Any man would be proud to have you on their arm. ”
Still nothing. She wouldn’t even look at me.
“Say something,” I said, frustration creeping into my voice.
Finally, she raised her eyes to mine. What I saw made my stomach drop. I just knew I screwed up. And that there was no way she was going out with me. I wasn’t even sure if she was going to have anything to do with me.
“I can’t do this,” she said quietly.
“What do you mean you can’t—”
“I spoke with my father. The consequences are too risky, Rhett. I should have kept things professional between us. I’m so sorry if you felt like I led you on.
You were right. I got carried away. I let myself get caught up.
I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.
I pushed you. I never should have gone to your hotel room. ”
“Led me on?” The words came out harsher than I intended. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
She looked away, color rising in her cheeks. “It’s not bullshit. It’s the truth.”
“No, the truth is that what happened between us was real. What we have is real.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Don’t let other people’s opinions destroy something good. You are the one that fought for this. I know it took me a minute, but here I am. I get it. I’m here. I’m ready to fight.”
“It’s not about other people’s opinions,” she said, still not meeting my eyes. “It’s about consequences. Real ones. Sponsors pulling out. My family’s reputation. My brother’s future. This thing between us was a mistake. You were right.”
“Your brother’s future isn’t going to be ruined because you’re dating a chef.”
Her eyes met mine for a brief second. I saw guilt. Why would she be guilty? What would make her…
Then I understood.
Wow. This was what it felt like. I had dumped plenty of women after one night. I always did my best to let them down easily, but I suddenly understood what it felt like. She wasn’t dumping me because the sex was bad, either.
She didn’t want to be attached to me. I was fine behind closed doors when no one could see the way I made her cry my name. The way I turned her inside out with my tongue and a well-placed finger. My cock.
I wasn’t good enough for the princess in public.
“A chef with mafia connections,” I said with sudden understanding. “A chef who’s being dragged through the tabloids. A chef who would sully the squeaky-clean reputation of Clementine Hartley.”
She didn’t even try to argue. She just stood there with those apologetic eyes, like she was sorry for hurting my feelings but not sorry enough to actually change her mind. Like I was some stray dog she’d been feeding scraps to who needed to be gently shooed away.
The silence stretched between us. I felt my temper flare white-hot.
This was the same woman who had shown up at my hotel room in cartoon taco pajamas.
The woman who pushed and pushed until I finally gave in.
Who looked me in the eye and said she didn’t care what anyone thought because she was a grown adult.
What a load of shit.
“So that’s it?” I said, my voice deadly quiet. “You chase me for weeks, show up at my door, tell me you don’t care about my family or my past, and now suddenly you do? Now suddenly I’m too much of a liability?”
She flinched but didn’t deny it. That hurt worse than if she’d slapped me.
“I told you from the beginning this was complicated,” I continued, anger making my words sharp. “I tried to keep things professional. I tried to protect you from exactly this kind of fallout. But you wouldn’t let it go, would you? You kept pushing, kept insisting we could make it work.”
“Rhett, please—”
“No.” I held up my hand. “You don’t get to ‘please’ me now. You made your choice. You chose your daddy’s approval over what you wanted—me. I was what you wanted until you got home.”
“It’s not worth more than my family,” she said quietly.
“Fine,” I said. “I get it.”
“Rhett, please don’t—”
“Don’t what? Don’t be disappointed that you’re choosing to throw away something amazing because people decided to write some bullshit? I don’t care, Clem. You’re right. It was a mistake from the minute it started. I knew it but I let myself get sucked in. Won’t happen again.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You know what? Maybe everyone is right about me. Maybe I am just like my family—too volatile, too dangerous, too much trouble for someone like you.”
“That’s not what I think,” she said.
She wrapped her arms around herself, looking smaller than I’d ever seen her.
“Goodbye, Clementine,” I said, walking down the steps toward my car.
“Rhett, wait—”
I didn’t turn around. Couldn’t turn around, because if I saw her crying on that porch, I might do something stupid like go back and beg her to change her mind. Grovel like a fucking fool.
It wasn’t going to happen.
I didn’t need to beg anyone to fuck me.
I got in my car and drove away. I had a job to do, and until Desman called and told me to step away from his pet project, I was going to do it. If he wanted me off, he was going to have to fucking call me and say it.