Chapter 35 Sloane
Sloane
Now
On Friday afternoon, I make my way to James’s office on leaden feet and less than two hours of sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes last night, I was hit with the image of Dom’s face as he lied his way out of my house.
It kept me up all night, forcing me to replay the entire day with him—the good and bad parts—pinpointing the exact moment everything went wrong.
My tired mind was desperate to blame everything on the tattoo, but this fracture is about more than that.
It’s about me being in love with him, and him willingly walking out on me even though he promised to stay by my side.
It’s about the ghost of a woman looming between us, making it impossible for his heart to recognize the love in mine.
It’s about this stupid arrangement and the deadline approaching quicker than either of us thought it would.
By the time I get to James’s office for the last-minute meeting he called this morning, I’m well and truly exhausted from thinking about it all.
Both men are already in the office, quietly discussing some new resort being built in California, and it’s the most I’ve heard them talk in weeks.
James seems more relaxed around Dom than he’s been since he kissed me, though it’s probably just a by-product of the project wrapping early and saving him money.
They both look up when they hear me coming, and it reminds me of walking in here all those weeks ago and being told I had to work with the man I thought hated me.
That day Dom looked right through me—his face a careful mask of cold indifference and thinly veiled annoyance.
And today I expect…well, I don’t know what I expect, but it’s not this.
The shadows from yesterday still slithering around like dark tentacles that reach out to grip my soul.
The haunted look he wore when he walked out the door overpowering the friendly, but disconnected, smile he gives me when I sit down beside him.
Our legs brush like they did that first day, and I’m so aware of him.
So aware of the love coursing through my veins, fierce and strong even in the face of the doubt swirling in my gut.
I don’t know how we’re going to work our way through this hole I dug us into, or if it’s worth the effort when we only have a week left together.
“Has anyone ever told you two how incredible you are together?” James clasps his hands and leans forward in his chair, a huge grin stretching across his face. “Actually, it doesn’t matter, because I’m saying it now. You guys are incredible together. The best damn team I’ve worked with in years.”
“Thanks,” Dom and I say at the same time.
I cast him a furtive glance, but he doesn’t look my way.
This is the first time I’ve seen him since last night, and I haven’t even talked to him besides the text he sent me this morning to say he hoped I slept well.
I bite back the bitter laugh creeping up my throat as I study his features, horrified amusement blooming in my chest at how far away this reality is from the optimism of his message.
Did he know our clock had run out when he sent it?
My blood freezes in my veins as I consider the possibility then push it away, so I can listen to what James is saying.
“I want to give you and your teams bonuses for being so dedicated to my dream. We’ve had some bumps along the way”—he gives me and Dom knowing looks—“but I couldn’t have done this without either of you. ”
“That’s very kind of you, James. You can submit the bonus with your final payment to Studio Six.”
“Same for Archway.”
“Excellent. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about the opening. My event planner has advised me to keep the same date, so you still have a month left to send my assistant the…”
Just like the first time we met in this office, James and Dom’s voices float around me while the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears drowns them out. I’m half listening, but I still manage to catch all the pertinent details when I’m not obsessing over the absence of Dom’s eyes on my face.
Why won’t he look at me?
James turns his attention to me. “You okay, Sloane?”
I shift in my seat, stealing another look at Dom to see him typing a message on his phone. Those fingers that were just threaded through mine last night flying over his keyboard while the eyes I long to have on my face stay glued to the screen.
“Yes, just digesting the good news.”
James nods, practically glowing with excitement.
“I’ll be honest, I didn’t know how things were going to pan out after that first meeting.
When you stormed out of here like a bat out of hell, I thought this project was going to go to shit, but Nic assured me you guys could put your differences aside and, as always, he was right. You two seem friendlier than ever.”
My eyes go wide, stretching until they’re nearly the size of saucers.
I had no idea Dom spent the moments after our first meeting assuring James we could get along.
An awkward silence fills the space where my response is supposed to go, but I’m too busy hoping neither one of them can see the way his words slice into me.
Each one is like its own individual form of torture as it pierces my heart. Dom had faith in us before he knew the possibility of more existed, but why?
“We’ve come a long way,” Dom says as he pockets his phone. “But I’m sure Sloane will be back to plotting my murder in no time.”
“I think you’ll be safe out in California.”
“California?” The word pops out of my mouth so quickly it surprises me. I turn and see Dom finally looking at me. “What’s in California?”
“The Cerros Resort,” James says cheerfully. “Nic got the contract before he signed on with us. They’ve been waiting for him to wrap up here so they can break ground.”
“Archway got the contract,” Dom corrects him. His tone is even despite the fact his eyes have gone a bit wild. Like someone’s just spilled his biggest, most important secret in front of the one person he didn’t want to know. “They can do the job without me.”
“But they don’t want to. It’s going to take at least two years to get it all done, and I doubt Adler is going to leave a project like that in the hands of one of your henchmen. I certainly wouldn’t.”
Two years. Dom has a signed contract that will require him to be in California for two years. All at once, the pieces start to click together. The secret project he won’t tell me anything about, the plans he won’t let me see, the increasingly frequent phone calls with Sebastian.
It all makes sense now.
He’s leaving, and he knew he was leaving when we started this. When he came to my home and begged for me. When he swore to take care of me and made me say I was his. When he held me in his arms and let me lay my soul at his feet.
When he made me fall in love with him in a million different moments that meant more to me than they ever did to him.
I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand, pressing so hard I might draw blood. I have to get out of here. Both men look up when I shoot out of my seat.
“Sorry to cut this short, but I’m suddenly not feeling well. Good luck with California, Dominic.”
James nods and says something, but I can’t hear him over the sound of my heels slapping the marble floor. The tears don’t come until I’m speeding out of the parking lot, and I let them fall freely while I wrap my mind around the mess I made.
Mal said working with Dom on this project wasn’t a big deal. She said it wasn’t the end of the world, but I knew that day. I knew with a certainty I couldn’t explain that this collaboration was going to turn my whole life upside down. I’ve never been more devastated at being right.
But devastated is the last thing I should be right now, because I knew this was coming.
Our ending was determined before we began.
And of course, it sucks that we’re ahead of schedule, but there’s no arguing with the fact this is for the best. An unexpected way to expedite the process of recovering from a relationship with a man who’s in love with someone else.
“Yes,” I whisper to myself. “This is a good thing.”
Then why the hell does it hurt so much?
***
Dom’s name flashes on my phone for the third time in the last five minutes, and I send the call straight to voicemail, managing to slip my phone back into my purse just as Mal pushes a shot glass into my hand.
“Take this shot and come dance with me!”
She sways her hips to the beat of the music and waits for me to comply, completely oblivious to the fact that almost every man in the club is watching her.
Even I can’t take my eyes off of her body, clad in an olive-green halter dress that hugs every curve and breathtaking gold stilettos that snake around her calves, making her impossibly long legs look even longer.
She’s gorgeous.
And I’m so glad she was willing to come out with me tonight. I had to lie to her and say Ash and I were through and I just wanted to blow off some steam, but it still feels good to be here with her. It’s the most honest moment I’ve had with my sister and best friend in the last month.
That’s right, Sloane. Focus on the silver linings of having your heart broken by your husband’s best friend.
My eyes stretch wide as I watch her down her fifth shot of the night. I have no idea how she’s still going. Between the drinks we had at dinner and the shots we’ve taken since getting to the club, I can already feel the hangover I’ll have tomorrow.
But Mal says a carefree night out is the only cure for heartbreak, and she’s been through more breakups this year, not to mention whatever is happening with her and Chris, than I have in my entire life, so I kind of have to trust her on this.
If the resident breakup expert says we need to get drunk and dance our asses off, we’re getting drunk and dancing our asses off.
Hangover be damned.
Returning her mischievous smile, I toss back the shot she’s given me. The vodka burns as it goes down, and I relish the feeling, hoping the searing pain will cauterize the gaping hole in my heart.
“That’s my girl!” Mal exclaims. She’s still dancing around me, holding her hand out and wiggling her fingers at me—inviting me to leave all of the hurt and anger bubbling in my veins on the dance floor.
So that’s exactly what I do.
We dance for hours, screaming the lyrics to all of our favorite songs and moving our hips in time to the beat, being rowdy and ridiculous and a lot like the girls we used to be in college. The ones who never left the dance floor and didn’t know a thing about the heartbreak lurking in our futures.
Mal and I are catching our breath, drinking water, and resting our feet when two men who’ve been eyeing us from the bar finally get up the courage to come over. They try to look casual as they pause in front of our booth.
“You two are easily the most beautiful women in this place tonight,” one of them says. He’s taller than his friend, with black and blond locs flowing over his shoulders. “Can we join you?”
I look at Mal, trying to gauge her reaction and figure out how I feel about opening up our girls’ night to these two.
Her eyes are bright, latched on to the guy with the locs, and a welcoming smile takes over her face when he smirks at her.
Just as she’s about to open her mouth and say they can join us, a deep voice cuts in from behind them.
“These two are spoken for.”
All eyes turn to the source of our interruption, but I already know who it is. Dom. I don’t know how or why, but somehow he’s here, and despite my determination to get a jump start on grieving us, my heart still tries to pound its way out of my chest at the sound of his gravelly baritone.
The two friends spin around then step to the side as Dom moves toward the table, sliding into the booth beside Mal while another person, Chris, takes a seat beside me. Wait, what?
I blink slowly, my head swiveling between the amused expression on Chris’s face and the unreadable look on Dom’s. How are they even here right now?
“Mal texted,” Dom says, answering the question I didn’t know I had spoken out loud. Damn you, Drunk Sloane. “She said you two were out drinking to get over your breakup with Ash and were going to need a ride home.”
I press my lips together to keep any other thoughts from passing between them without my permission, but I swear I see a flicker of pain flash behind Dom’s eyes as he says the word “breakup.” Like he’s angry I’m trying to accept the inevitable.
Mal’s face contorts into something between a scowl and a smirk as she looks at Chris. They exchange a heated glance that makes me blush. Clearly, things between them aren’t as done as she wants everyone to believe. She bites her lip as she holds his gaze.
“Christopher, how nice of you to come to our rescue.”
“I’m always happy to be of service, princess.”
I cringe inwardly, suddenly wishing to be very far away from whatever sick game of seduction the two of them are playing, because there’s nothing remotely cool about witnessing your sister-in-law decide if she’s going to sleep with her ex.
Judging by the sparks of energy shooting between the two of them, Chris is going to get lucky tonight.
He rises from his seat and smiles at me. “Sloane, always a pleasure to see you.”
I finish off the last of my water. “Yes, it was nice to see you too, Chris.”
Dom stands up and lets Mal out of the booth. She gives me a wave and a half-apologetic look before blowing me a kiss and disappearing into the crowd with Chris chasing behind her. I stare after them in disbelief, my sluggish brain having a hard time processing what I’m seeing.
“Grab your stuff, angel,” Dom orders, the inky black depths of his eyes glittering with the promise of trouble if his command isn’t followed immediately. He extends his hand to me. “I’m taking you home.”