Chapter Forty-Five. Rowan
FORTY-FIVE
Rowan
“There’s nothing to say. I got caught and I’m not exactly sure why or how, but it happened. The irony is I was going to call the engagement off anyway, but now…”
“Now it’s a scandal.”
“Fucking perfect,” I mutter.
Sloane gives a noncommittal sound and then pauses as she stares into her glass of wine. “What a clusterfuck.”
“Pretty much.” I chuckle self-deprecatingly. “No one is talking to me. Well, except for the one person I don’t want to talk to. He keeps texting and calling and I’m not answering him.”
“Holden.”
“Yep. You got it. Holden.” I sigh. I can still hear my mother’s screech, still see the utter shock on Chad’s face. Still feel the disgust from all of them. “I just need time to think and when he’s in the picture, I can’t freaking think.”
Her smile is fleeting. “We’ll get to him in a second.”
“I’m sure we will.”
“How did both of you end up at The Vine at the same time?”
“Holden planned a night out for us. We’re always freaking hiding and so he wanted to do something nice, somewhere way out of town. He’s been gone and … I don’t know. It was just—”
“And Rhett was there, why?”
“Apparently someone had treated them to it over some real estate deal they were working on. And as a treat, they invited my mom and Florence and … well, you know the rest.”
“But they walked into your private room,” she stated definitively.
“Yes. There was a mix-up. The hostess brought them to the wrong table—room, whatever you call it—I don’t know. It’s not the poor girl’s fault, but apparently she’s been fired over it, seeing as the restaurant is known for the privacy it offers its guests.”
“So it was a complete coincidence.” She chooses her words carefully.
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing.” Her face is a mask of innocence, but I know her better than that.
“What?”
“That’s a lot of moving parts to all be in the same place at the same time to accidentally run into each other, is all I’m saying.” She holds her hands up and shrugs. “But I’m skeptical of everything and everybody all the time.”
“It wasn’t planned,” I say more to myself than to her.
But even as I say the words, there is something in the back of my mind that doesn’t sit right. The same something I’ve been feeling for some time.
Something is going on.
I just don’t know what.
Holden has me looking at plot maps of land and finding the LLCs that own them. He has a real estate agent looking at places in Fairmont. Rhett is closing a real estate deal. Holden’s angry over my engagement to Chad.
“And your mom?” Sloane asks.
“Ha. Emmaline Rothschild is pissed. She’s not talking to me at all.
Or we’ll say she did for a five-minute tirade before she hung up without letting me speak.
She’s livid. Humiliated. Disappointed in the choices I’ve made.
Doesn’t understand why I’d shame our family like this.
Why I’d lower myself to the level of a cheater. ”
“She’s met half the men in Westmore, right?” she asks.
I’m just about to top off her glass when the knock comes at the door. Our eyes meet across the coffee table and she says, “I’ll get it.”
“No.” I rise. “I need to face whoever this is since apparently I’ve screwed everyone’s life up.”
“Good dick always screws other people’s lives up.”
I burst out laughing, needing her levity more than she knows in this moment. And even more so when I swing the door open and come face-to-face with Holden.
He stands before me in a navy-blue T-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops. It’s not a look he wears often but it’s one I’ve come to love. It’s almost an awkward suit of armor for him when he’s so used to wearing a dress shirt and slacks.
“Rowan.” My name is gravel on his vocal cords. “You’re not returning my calls.”
I shift so that he can see Sloane over my shoulder—my own suit of armor in a sense because he can’t say anything he doesn’t want others to hear. He gives her a nod, but I can tell by the way he looks at me that he’d much rather be alone.
“I’ve been busy.”
“So it seems.” He nods in greeting to Sloane. “We need to talk.”
“Fine. Let’s talk. Sloane’s my lawyer. She knows everything.”
“Okay.” He draws the word out and I can tell he’s not too thrilled with this development. “Can we speak in private?”
“Sure. Yes.” I step outside and shut the door at my back.
“I’m sorry our dinner was ruined. I’m sorry that your family found out about us that way and that there are rumors and gossip and all this shit that comes with it being whispered around town.
But most of all, I’m upset that you’re upset over them all finding out about us, but I won’t apologize for it because I’m sick of having to hide from everyone. ”
“Did you know they were going to be there? Was this some master plan to—”
“Do you not trust me, Rowan?” he asks, and there is such a raw honesty in the break in his voice that I just stare at him and blink.
“No. That’s the problem. I do.” Two words that are so very simple but which just laid all my cards on the table.
I trust him. Finally. He earned that back from me.
His smile is slow and boyish and causes a swell of emotion inside me.
“Can’t you see that’s why it’s a problem for me? You have me researching land parcels one week and then another you tell me you’re buying up land in Fairmont.”
“Your point?”
“Rhett was at The Vine celebrating some kind of real estate deal.”
“And I’m sure another couple was celebrating their anniversary or birthday. It’s a restaurant. It’s a place people go to mark special occasions.”
I draw in a sharp breath. “And we just happened to be there too.”
“Yes. We did.”
“Don’t you see all the coincidences that would make me question you? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, Holden.”
“So you say you trust me, but you really don’t.”
“No. I do. I truly do, but I feel like there’s always a game being played, and I want out. I’m sick of playing them.”
“You think what we’ve been doing is a game?
Manhattan? The co-CEO? That’s all a game?
” He steps into me and I hold my ground, hating the never-ending eddy of emotions.
Anger looks sexy on him, and that’s never a good thought for someone who is holding their ground to have.
“Because the way it looks to me is that you’re the one playing them.
A fake engagement to buy time for something you won’t explain?
The same something I said I’d give to you in a heartbeat if you just fucking asked.
” He shakes his head and takes a step back.
“You tell me you trust me. You open that door that I’ve been waiting on only to slam it back shut with accusations. ”
“Holden.” I reach out to touch him and he yanks his arm back and away from me.
“Don’t. Just … fucking don’t. I’ve asked you to end the engagement.
I’ve proven all your bullshit reasons why you can’t call it off to be wrong.
Looks to me like someone is playing both sides, and it sure as fuck isn’t me.
” He reaches out and cups the side of my cheek, his eyes conflicted.
“Maybe it’s me who shouldn’t trust you.”
With that he walks away without another word.
And leaves me wondering what the actual fuck is going on.