Chapter 8
Harper
“I just…right now the less I see him the better. I’m over it. Don’t get me wrong. But when I see him, it reminds me he cheated on me, and that just makes me feel…” I trail off because most of the feelings it makes me feel are not ones I want to discuss. Especially not around Alex.
“Yeah, well fuck him for making you feel any damn way that wasn’t fucking good. You didn’t deserve that. And his cheating? That’s his fragile fucking ego. It had nothing to do with you.”
“I know. Logically I know that. But I can’t help feeling like maybe if I had been a better wife or maybe there was something I didn’t do that I should have, you know? And I’ve been through the therapy—the real kind and the kind where I sit around and drink with my friends about it. It’s just still hard to quiet those voices.”
“He’s the one that lost though. He lost all the perfect things in his life when he lost you. The life that you gave him. His home. His future. So just remember that when we’re in there, okay? And if you’d rather stay in the car or not go… I’m not gonna make you, and I’ll tell him to go fuck himself if he complains about it.”
“No. I can do this.” I straighten my spine and remind myself I’m not the fuck up in this situation and if I happened to fall into the arms of his best friend on accident, well, it is what it is.
Alex holds his hand out, and I glance over at him, raising a brow in question.
“Moral support,” he gives me a half grin, and I slip my hand into his. His fingers tighten around mine and we make our way toward the office.
When we get inside,we’re directed to a conference room by Drew’s secretary, and we take seats at the table there. I already feel unsettled, and my stomach is in knots as I look around the room. I feel like I’m awaiting trial.
Alex glances at me and down at the space between us for half a second before he grabs the underside of my chair and pulls, dragging me toward him and closing the distance between us down to a couple of inches.
I look down at the narrow gap and then up at him, raising a brow. “Was that necessary?”
“Yeah. I don’t want anyone in this room confused about what’s mine.” A smirk creeps up one side of his face and whether it’s that or the words, a flicker of want lights under my skin.
I am normally good, so good, about ignoring his charms and his looks. Being my husband’s best friend and the irritated looks he’s always given me made sure that it wasn’t too much of a problem. But now? Now when the charm is leveled at me, when he says infuriatingly sexy things at a time when I’ve been feeling anything but—it’s unfair. I can’t help my reaction. And he must know because the devilish smirk creeps higher before the door pops open, and Drew and a small entourage enter the room.
Drew looks pissed. Well, to an outsider who doesn’t know him, he looks fine. Like maybe he’s just had a rough morning and is tired. But I can see the subtle twitch in his jaw and the way his eyes coast over the two of us like he wishes he could say what he really thinks. But his eyes come to a stop when he sees my swollen lip.
“You didn’t tell me she got hurt. How did that fucking happen?” Drew’s temper flares as he looks at Alex.
It’s fucking rich coming from him. The person who’s hurt me the most in the last few years to be worried about a little surface injury like this.
“He clipped her with his elbow when he was trying to hit me.”
“Jesus Christ. This is why I keep telling you to stop talking with your fucking fists, Xander. There’s only so many fucking times I can do something about it.”
“Yeah, well you better do something about this one. That fucker is lucky he’s not in a hospital bed as far as I’m concerned.”
“You should have called the cops.”
“Yeah, and what would they have done? His agent would have shut that shit down fast, and you know it.”
“I do know it.” Drew’s eyes land hard on Alex, and I raise my brow.
“Don’t fucking imply I’ve ever been inappropriate with a woman. You know I fucking haven’t.”
“No, you just have a habit of going after married women.”
“I didn’t know she was fucking married. She told me she wasn’t, and I had no reason not to believe her until her husband showed up guns fucking blazing.”
I’m going to have to figure out what that was about because it’s a story I’d definitely never heard.
“That’s true I suppose. What’s your excuse here?” Drew’s eyes shift to me and if looks could kill, I’d be a melted puddle of goo on the floor.
“Nothing happened when we were married,” I say, annoyed that he wants to accuse me of cheating.
“I’m sure it didn’t.” Drew’s eyes go back to Alex, and they hold each other’s gaze.
“Okay, well, all this testosterone bouncing around the room is more than I need this early in the morning on a weekend. So let’s move on shall we?” A woman in a gorgeous fitted skirt and blazer pipes up from the other side of the table.
“I like her,” I announce, smiling at the woman and she gives me a surprised smile in return.
“Samantha, or Sam. The publicist,” she introduces herself.
“Harper. The problem.” I smile back.
The guys look at us warily and then return their focus to the task at hand.
“Did you look at the comments management and his agent sent over?” Drew asks.
“Yes, all bullshit. He was all over her. She can tell you herself, and I think we should bring up the fact that he also fucking clocked her.”
“Not on purpose.”
“Still.”
“We can put it in our report to management.”
“Good. You do that.” Alex levels Drew with another look.
“You have something else you want to say?”
“I don’t like your fucking attitude. You should be on our side with this, and you don’t seem very invested.”
“Having to figure out how to spin a story that defends the idea of my friend fucking my wife isn’t my favorite task of the day. Forgive me for not being more pleasant, Xander.”
“Your ex-wife. My girlfriend.” Alex stands, and I jump up with him.
“Fake girlfriend. Or at least it better fucking be unless you want—” Drew snarls and starts to stand, and I hold out my hands.
“I think we just need a minute?” I look to Samantha, and she nods and slides her eyes to Drew.
“Alex?” I turn to him, and he tears his eyes from Drew and looks at me. “Can we talk outside for a moment?”
He gives me a reluctant nod, and we walk outside the conference room, down the hall, and out onto a small, terraced area of the building. When we reach it, he turns around and looks at me expectantly.
“What? You want to just call it?”
“No, I just thought you needed a breather. I don’t like Drew, but he’s been in your corner for years. I don’t think the two of you getting into it is going to help matters. Least of which over me and our fake thing here.”
“Doesn’t that piss you off? That he thinks he owns you?”
“No. He’s having the reaction I would expect. Put yourself in his shoes. I’m your ex-wife and now I’m dating him and it’s about to be very public because he’s famous and you’re not.”
He considers the information for a moment, his brow furrowing and then he looks down at the ground.
“Maybe.”
“He’s a dick. He wants to fight. But you don’t have to let it get to you. You’re the bigger person—figuratively and literally.”
His lips quirk up and his eyes scrunch like he’s about to make a comment.
“Don’t do it.” I shake my head and raise an eyebrow at him.
“Aw come on that’s no fucking fun, Saint.” He laughs, and I see the tension in his shoulders relax.
“Yes. I know. I ruin the party. You good now? Can we go back without the huffing and puffing?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He rolls his shoulders back and it’s distractingly sexy.
I need to get a grip.
“All right. Let’s get this over with.” I nod toward the door, making a step in that direction, and he follows.