Chapter 35
35
I THINK IT’S THE SHAPE OF A BUNNY
“ P eople are staring…” I’m barely able to form a sentence with Riley a breath’s length away.
Riley leans his forehead against mine as he cusses under his breath and I have to admit his reaction to being interrupted turns me on more than the actual kiss. “One more hour.”
“Wh..what?” I ask, confused.
“One. More. Hour.” Riley enunciates each word. “Then we’re leaving.” He lifts his head and plants a soft kiss against my forehead.
I try to take a step back but his grip is still firm on the nape of my neck forcing me to stay in place. “Are you really trying to be the center of attention tonight? Because I can literally feel the eyes on us Riley.”
He squeezes my neck once before dropping his hand from my neck back to my hip. I’m too nervous to look around for confirmation that we are the sole entertainment for the hour so instead of that, I do the most naturally awkward thing I can do. I stare at a small piece of lint on the lapel of Riley’s suit.
I think it’s the shape of a bunny .
Or it’s the shape of a cloud.
I wonder where it’s from.
“Amelia.” Riley’s deep voice yanks me from my thoughts.
“Nothing.” I squeak.
“You are burning a hole into my jacket. What the hell are you staring at?” He says with a chuckle.
“A piece of lint.”
“Why, pray tell, are you so focused on a piece of lint?”
“Because trying to figure out which shape this piece of lint is seems to be a better use of my time than making eye contact with anyone that may or may not be judging me right now.” I admit weakly.
“Look at me, Amelia.” I lift my gaze to meet his. “I don’t give a shit about a single person in this room besides the one awkwardly staring at a piece of lint on my chest.” I can’t hide the blush that warms my cheeks. “Let them judge all they want. Let them see that the most beautiful woman in the world is in my arms. They’ll soon realize what they’re doing is not judging, but in fact projecting their jealousy at the truth that they’re not me.”
Somebody pinch me because I think I just fell in love.
Nope. No I did not. Because this isn’t real. He said as much when we were at the bar and I need to remember that. He’s just being charming like he always is and putting on a good act for everyone around us. As much as I want to swoon over his words and lean into him, which would only pull me deeper into this charade, I have to keep my distance. He doesn’t want real and that isn’t what we agreed on.
Before I have a chance to respond, an older gentleman clears his throat behind us. I peer over Riley’s shoulder to get a better look at who it could be. He has the same hazel eyes and dark brown hair as Riley, except his is peppered with white and gray streaks. His father, I’m assuming, with how rigid I can feel Riley’s shoulder gets under my hand.
“Riley.” The older gentleman says sternly.
“Father.”
“The photographer is asking for photos of the Anderson men if you are able to pull yourself away from your date for a moment for family.” His father says while eyeing me up and down. The condescension spewing from his mouth makes my blood boil. He doesn’t even bother with introducing himself or asking me for my name.
I watch as he walks away without another word. Not even needing confirmation that his son would follow. Just assumes that Riley will jump when he demands. I stand still as Riley lets out a sigh to compose himself. He looks over my head and gives a curt nod to someone behind me. I turn to see who he signaled and a smile escapes me when I see his friend Rob, the owner of the brewery that Riley took me to when we first met, headed our way.
“Riley.” Rob says warmly.
“Rob. Take care of my girl for me? I need to take care of something.”
I shiver at his words, my girl .
His friend extends his hand for me to grab while Riley holds my other one. He kisses the top of my hand before letting go, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Princess.”
Rob twirls me dramatically before twisting me in his arms to dip my body causing me to burst into a fit of giggles while he pulls me back upright.
He gently guides one of my hands to rest on his shoulder while he cups my other with his. We sway casually to the music playing from the band.
“It’s good to see you again, Ms.”
“Where are we? Old Britain?” I joke at his formality. “It’s just Amelia.” I offer with a laugh.
“Sorry, old habits.” Rob says with a shrug. “Manners are ingrained in my vocabulary I’m afraid.”
We sway until the song comes to an end before he offers to guide me away from the dance floor to rest my feet. Once we reach the bar, he orders the same drink as Riley, a Macallan, neat, and orders me another glass of red wine.
“What are you doing here?” I ask curiously.
Rob takes a sip of his drink, “You know how some men have a wingman on night’s out to help him get the girl?” I nod with a raised brow, unsure of where this is going. “Well, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been his wingman for things like this but instead of getting the girl…it’s to survive the night unscathed.” My brows crinkle in confusion waiting for him to elaborate further. “Riley and his family aren’t exactly close.” That I did know at least. “He plays the dutiful son like he was raised to but it eats at him. His true family died the moment his grandparents did and what was left is a shell of one. A facade of a happy family but in truth, he’s treated like the orphaned kid they had to take in out of obligation.
I’m here for him at these events because he can’t say no to coming, shaking hands, and smiling through the bullshit. Especially today when it’s the most unfair to ask this of him. Though, had I known he already had a wingman for the evening,” he gives me a wink, “I would’ve saved myself the trouble of getting this tux pressed since you know damn well I never have to for any events at a brewery.”
I smile as I bring the glass of wine to my lips.
We sit here for the next hour talking about his life at the brewery and the drastic change in my career lately. It’s so easy to talk to him. He talks about his brewery with so much joy that I almost consider leaving everything I just inherited behind to start my own.
“Is there a Mrs. Feron that loves your brewery as much as you do?” I ask nosily.
Rob lets out a booming laugh at my inquisition. “No. There was a lady in college but she didn’t approve of the life I wanted, just the one I was born into. So we parted ways and I’m ok with focusing on the brewery for now. One day I’d like a Mrs. Feron, but until I find the right one I’m ok with the way things are.”
He sits with his elbow propped on the bar, his glass dangling from his hand and the other running over the length of his beard. “I spent a lot of time doing what others wanted me to do.” Boy, don’t I know that feeling. He takes a sip of his scotch. “Until I didn’t. I wish Riley knew what that felt like.”
“You wish he knew what what felt like?” I take another sip of my wine eyeing him over the rim of my glass.
“A life of choice.”
I excuse myself to use the restroom leaving Rob at the bar waiting for Riley to return. Which should be soon seeing as how it’s been over an hour since either of us last saw him after he left me on the dance floor.
Leaving the main hall the party was gathered in, I find myself walking down past a few private rooms all seemingly unoccupied before finally reaching a door that has Ladies etched into the frosted glass of the door. I push the heavy panel at the same time Cecelia pulls to open it from the inside.
Well this is just great.
“You.” She seethes in my direction before taking a large step towards me causing me to inch backwards. “You have the audacity to stay around at my engagement party after embarrassing me ?”
“I don’t know wha-”
She cuts me off with her rage. “Don’t play coy with me. I know Riley might have some hidden agenda with you but I refuse to be made a fool of at my own party.”
Her anger is palpable and I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t take pleasure in knowing I pissed her off at her own party after what she did to Riley. “Cecelia, is it?” I don’t give her a chance to respond. “Whatever happened between you and Riley in the past… let’s just keep it there. We are at your engagement party to his brother. I’d say the only person here who should be embarrassed and who’s been made out to be the fool is Riley and yet… he’s here showing his support for such a ludicrous celebration.”
I attempt to walk around her when she speaks up. “He never looked at me the way he looks at you.” She admits with a bit of sorrow.
“I can’t speak to why that is Cecelia but you did leave him for his own brother. Perhaps he had a reason to stay guarded while he was with you.” With that, I reach for the bathroom door and step inside, leaving her to either ponder what I said or stomp back into the party to carry on with the evening. Either way I don’t care. I’m too focused on what she meant by hidden agenda .
I don't know if she knows Riley and I had made a deal about being together but it shouldn’t make a difference either way. We never explicitly told anyone here that we were together. So I shouldn’t overthink what she said.
Except I do.
It bothers me that she could even know, because that means someone had to tell her and if someone told her then that means it was e ither Riley or Riley told someone else that could tell her. My brain can’t really wrap my head around how she knows, just the fact that she knows. So am I out to be the idiot in this situation? Does everyone out there know that he’s just pretending to be with me?
I can’t think like that. I’m spiraling in my own head and Riley wouldn’t do that to me. Even if he didn’t want to be with me, he is still my friend. I need to remember that and remind myself that Cecelia is jealous. It was evident in her eyes the moment she realized Riley had moved on from their breakup when she saw me. A jealous woman will say anything to anyone to get a response.
I won’t give her the satisfaction.
Leaning against the marbled vanity, I stare at myself in the oval mirror hanging on the wall illuminated by the sconces above. The dress really is one to be admired, I need to thank Tiffany with a bouquet of flowers or something for making me feel this beautiful tonight. I reapply my lipstick that wore off during the two glasses of wine before heading back out towards the party.
I pass the hallway of private rooms that were unoccupied a moment ago to find that one of the rooms now is no longer vacant. The light has been turned on and the door is ajar. I want to walk past it as fast as I can but then I hear the unmistakable voice of Riley. I lean my back against the wall to the left of the door to remain unseen.
“Yes. My date is Amelia Thatcher.” He confirms.
“Cecelia was right,” the voice of a man I’m assuming is Riley’s father exclaims with a sinister chuckle. “I knew you could do it, son. I just didn’t think you’d go so far as making her your date. This is good. We will have Thatcher Inc. signed as a client in no time.”
My heart is pounding.
I can not be hearing what I think I’m hearing.
Hidden Agenda.
Cecelia’s words ring so loudly in my ears that I can’t hear the rest of what Riley and his father are talking about. I don’t want to hear the rest of it.
He used me.
He played me.
All for what? So his father’s company could represent mine? For money?
My heart is shattering inside my chest and all I want to do is reach in and rip it out. That would be less painful than admitting I had fallen for a guy that wanted nothing more than a business contract with me masqueraded as a friendship.
I can’t stand here anymore. I can’t be here in this building anymore. I send a text to Antonio, my driver, to tell him to meet me up front immediately. I know he won’t be long; he had told me earlier that he wasn’t planning on leaving even though I insisted that I would already have a ride home with Riley after. I’ve never been more thankful for someone completely disregarding my wishes until now.
I refuse to cause a scene by running out of here with tears falling down my face. I am the face of Thatcher Inc. I will not let these people see the head of a multi-billion dollar company breakdown like a little girl over a broken heart.
But that doesn’t stop me from walking as fast as I can in these heels towards the entrance.
“Amelia?” A voice calls out from the main room. I turn and see Rob walking towards me, worry lining his face. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”
“Like you don’t know.” I scoff. There’s no doubt in my mind that Rob knows all about the ploy Riley had conjured up just to gain my c ompany’s business.
I turn to walk away but he reaches out to grip my arm. “Amelia, please stop. Tell me what is going on? Should I find Riley? Did Cecelia say something to you?” He pleads for me to talk to him.
“Cecelia,” I seethe, “was the only one to tell me what I needed to hear. All of you can go to hell. And if you see Riley, tell him not to bother contacting me. Thatcher Inc. will never be a client of Anderson & Anderson.” I rip my arm from his grasp as the venom of my words sink in. Unable to hold my emotions at bay any longer. I wipe the tear from my cheek with the back of my hand. “You all played me for a fool and I was the idiot that couldn’t see through it. Goodbye, Rob.”
I turn away and leave him behind me. Antonio is at the bottom of the stairs holding the back door open. I climb in the black SUV while trying to calm my nerves. My hands are physically shaking from either anger or hurt, probably a mixture of both.
“Home, ma’am?” Antonio asks, looking back at me through the rearview mirror, as he gets into the driver seat.
“No, Lauren’s please.” He nods with understanding and makes his way off the property.
“Hold your horses!” Lauren exclaims from the other side of the door as I rap against it aggressively. I had a twenty minute drive over here to cry my heart out and now all that’s left is anger. Anger that I’m now taking out on Lauren’s door until she answers.
She rips open her door with the same ire as I feel. “What the fu-,” one look at me, smeared mascara, splotchy cheeks, and a red nose t hat would give Rudolph a run for his money tells her this is no time to be questioning why I’m here. “Who the hell do I need to maim?”
Her voice is enough to turn my anger back into hurt and I break down at her doorstep. The dam that I had built around my tears on my way over gives out and all I can do is let it break. I can’t form a sentence, all I can do is cry as she holds me.
Lauren runs her hand up and down my back in a calming rhythm, “wanna go inside and talk about it, babe?” I nod. She lifts us off the ground, carrying the brunt of my weight, and guides us inside.
“I’ll be waiting for you out here, ma’am. Take your time.” Antonio calls towards me. I smile at him over my shoulder hoping he can tell how thankful I am for him.
We walk into Lauren’s living room and she sits me on her couch before making a call to Sam.
“Come to my house. Yes this is urgent. Hurry your ass over here.” She hangs up without giving more detail.
I watch as she strolls into her kitchen and grabs a bottle of wine from the gold and mirrored bar cart I bought her as a housewarming gift three years ago. She pauses after a few steps before turning back, grabbing a second bottle, three glasses, and makes her way back to the living room.
“Good call on the second bottle.” I say humorlessly.
I sit there playing with my wine glass after Lauren pours my first drink. I methodically run my finger along the rim creating a hypnotic tune. I replay every moment for the last couple of months with Riley and I can’t seem to pinpoint the moment he decided his career was more important than our friendship. Was it before or after we slept together?
“Stop it.” Lauren says, pouring the red liquid into the glass she’s holding. I raise an eyebrow at her. “You’re letting your min d do that thing where you overthink and drive yourself crazy.”
“I am not.” I scoff.
Before Lauren has a chance to argue, the front door bursts open and Sam strolls in with what looks like a tote bag overflowing with snacks. I eye her suspiciously, unsure of how she made it here so quickly and still had time to find all of that food.
Reading my mind as she answers with a shrug, “I always have a bag ready for emergencies.”
Lauren and I share a glance at one another before laughing and offering Sam the third glass of wine. “Your go bag consists of sugar and carbs? No fake I.D.’s? No wads of cash?” I ask, curiously.
“That’s my other emergency bag. Trust me, I am well prepared for every situation.” She takes a dramatic bow before sitting on the plush blue chair opposite Lauren and me. “Ok, I’m here now. Spill.”
It takes me the next two hours explaining how I found myself here. On Lauren’s couch while wearing the most gorgeous dress I’d ever worn. At the bottom of a bottle of wine. And swimming in a sea of heartache.
“What the hell is a fake boyfriend?” Lauren asks, breaking the silence that followed after I finished my tale of woe. “And how do you end up sleeping with a fake boyfriend? Does that make him not fake anymore? I’m so confused.” She rubs the pad of her thumb against the crease that's formed between her brows.
“No,” I sigh, “clearly sex negates nothing. I should’ve seen this coming. I even tried to gauge how real we were at the party tonight and he evaded that conversation like one would the plague.” I roll my eyes at the thought causing a slight sway in my body with the help of the wine.
“What if it’s not what you think?” Lauren and I swing our heads at Sam. She defensively puts both hands in the air, “just hear me out ok? What if this is all one huge misunderstanding and you guys are falling into the cliche misunderstanding trope?”
“This isn’t like the books I have on my shelf, Sam. His dad practically gave him an ‘atta boy,’ after he confirmed that it was me on his arm tonight. It’s hard to misunderstand that conversation.” I sigh, feeling depleted of any energy. Glancing at the antique clock on the wall across from me, I see it’s almost eleven o’clock then a yawn slips out. “I should go home. Antonio needs to go home to his family and he refuses to leave me behind.”
My friends try to convince me to spend the night but after the day I’ve had, the only thing I want to do is crawl into my own bed and possibly cry myself to sleep with some semblance of privacy. After twenty minutes of me convincing them I will be ok and we will meet for brunch on Sunday at our normal spot, we hug goodbye and go our separate ways.
The ride back from Lauren’s suburban home is therapeutic. Antonio doesn’t speak the entire way, allowing me to stare out the window and admire as the landscape turns from brick houses to concrete jungle filled with glass high rises. I spend the fifteen minute drive admiring all Charlotte had to offer. The city that’s been my home my entire life. The Queen City as it’s known more familiarly to her inhabitants. I watch as the center of her soul shimmers with evening lights, reflections of her surroundings causing the buildings to glitter in the night sky… and then I spot my building. The tallest of the buildings in the heart of her heart. The crown jewel of the city.
I used to love seeing my home come into view, but now I can’t help but think of the one person that has made that home less lonely over the last couple of months and how empty it’ll feel now that he won’t be there. The idea of going home right now hurts a little too much so instead I ask my driver to make a detour to delay the inevitable a little while longer.
“Antonio, do you mind if we make a stop along the way?”