Chapter Twenty
“How long have you known your dad was going to cut off the funding?” Sloane snapped as she yanked open the front door.
She was angry. No, actually, she was fuming. Every cell in her body burned like a three-alarm fire. Her insides crackled with heat as intense as the wildfires she had filmed.
The documentary she had poured herself into for two weeks—every waking minute, every ounce of energy, fully immersed in the stories of people who deserved to be heard—was canceled.
Those two weeks might seem like nothing to Evans Wilde, but to Sloane, it was everything.
It was a story she had fallen in love with, and now it was gone.
There was no chance to show it to the world.
“Do you remember when we were at Sultry Suds?” Kendall said.
She glanced over Sloane’s shoulder at the open front door, as if leaving would offer her an easy way out.
Yet, she didn’t take the opportunity. “My dad called me. I told you that, remember? But I didn’t tell you that he gave me this stupid ultimatum. ”
“What ultimatum?” Sloane shot back.
Kendall scratched at a spot on her neck until it was red. “He said he’d cut the funding if I didn’t give up on my silly day job as a firefighter.”
Sloane should’ve known that call was trouble.
But instead of prying out the truth like a splinter with a tweezer, she had accepted the vague excuse.
If she’d known what was really going on, maybe she could’ve done something.
An ultimatum could surely be overturned, right?
Evans Wilde could’ve been convinced. But now it was too late.
“A whole week ago,” Sloane muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And you didn’t think to tell me during the three hundred and sixty-eight hours we basically spent together after that call?”
“I… I didn’t know how,” Kendall stammered, still buttoning up her shirt.
Just moments ago, Sloane had thrust the firefighter’s clothes in her arms and marched them both to the front door. She had to go.
“Honestly, I didn’t think he’d actually do it,” Kendall went on. “Sometimes he says things when he’s angry, but then he calms down.”
“I don’t care if you didn’t think he’d do it,” Sloane said coldly. “What I care about is that you looked me in the eye every day for a week and thought, hey, let me keep this big, important secret from Sloane.”
“But you don’t care that I stood up to him?” Kendall said, stepping forward, her shoulders slightly pulled back. Another five steps, and she’d be in Sloane’s personal space. “You don’t care that I didn’t let my father control me, that I fought back for once?”
“Of course I do,” Sloane replied, exasperated. She couldn’t seem to say the right things. “But it doesn’t matter, Kendall. Because you lied to me.”
“I did what I thought was right at the time!” Kendall defended. She kept her hands in fists by her sides. “I didn’t tell you because I knew in my heart that I couldn’t give up my dream of being a firefighter. You know how important it is to me. I was hoping I could figure something out.”
It didn’t matter that she had done what she thought was best, chosen her life over the one her father wanted for her.
As she should. Nonetheless, Sloane just couldn’t let the anger go.
Kendall had lied. It hit too close to home.
The last time anyone had lied to her, kept a secret from her, was Louise.
That was when she denied she had slept with Peach. A whopping five times.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sloane said, shaking her head.
“It doesn’t matter that I like you, that you drive me crazy, that I can’t seem to get you out of my head.
” She gulped in the air at the unintended confession.
“Because there’s one thing I can’t stand that you should know by now, Kendall, and that’s lying. ”
Kendall’s features fell. Her entire face became shadowed with remorse, and even though a part of Sloane wanted to reach out, to slide her hand across her cheek and move her fingers down her neck, to confess so many other things—like how Kendall’s lips were probably the best lips she’d ever kissed—she couldn’t.
This was a betrayal. Sloane didn’t do well with betrayals.
“I need you to leave,” she said, stepping out of the way. “And I don’t want you to call me tomorrow or the next day. Honestly, I need you to leave me completely alone.”
It was the opposite of what she wanted. But it was exactly what she needed.
Kendall opened her mouth to speak, but she shut it just as quickly. She nodded, grabbed her handbag from the console table, and walked out. Her head remained face down at her sneakers.
Sloane shut the door before she lost control and ran after the woman. Her feet were literally itching. Her legs were ready to spring forward. Instead, she leaned her back against the door and sank to the floor, cradling her head in her hands. Everything was going perfectly.
Until it wasn’t.
Typical.
Her world hadn’t felt this empty since… well, not even since Louise had left.
This was somehow worse. This felt like someone had sucked all the air out of the room and replaced it was a giant vacuum of despair.
Whatever could’ve happened between her and Kendall was now just a thought.
And that thought was fading faster than her willpower not to break something in her house.
But Sloane Pierce wasn’t going to wallow in her own pity party. Not today. She pushed herself up, grabbed her car keys, and headed out to her car.
The only person who could lend both a shoulder to cry on and tell her to man up, to rub some dirt in it, to get over it, was Robbie. The man who had lost everything and still somehow belted out Shania Twain’s Man! I Feel Like a Woman! the very next night at karaoke.
She needed his honesty, and she needed it now.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me,” Robbie said when Sloane arrived at his front door at eleven p.m. He stuck out his arms and swallowed her into a hug.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, squeezing her tight.
“But that’s probably because I’m still recovering from the two weeks you left me alone to road trip around California. ”
“It was for work,” Sloane muttered into his crisp white pajama shirt.
The hug lasted well beyond Sloane’s threshold, but at the same time, it was kind of nice, kind of soothing. He smelled lovely, most certainly Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue.
Robbie broke the hug and grabbed her by the hand, leading her into Charlie’s apartment, which was modern, bold, and completely white. No color anywhere. Very Scandinavian.
“What happened, Sloane? Tell me everything.”
She sat down on the couch and did exactly that, starting with the blind date and ending with the phone call from Lisa.
Sloane didn’t hold back. She didn’t need to with Robbie.
Not only had he seen her naked several times, but he also knew all her quirks.
He knew her deepest, darkest secrets. He was like her walking diary.
“I think I might love her,” Sloane said, accepting the glass of wine Robbie slipped into her hand. “Is that crazy? Falling in love with someone in such a short time?”
“Not if you spent every waking minute together,” Robbie said, sitting down and folding his legs beneath him on the couch. “Do you remember Axel, that guy I dated right before Paul?”
The memory was vague, but it was there. The Axel she remembered had peroxided tips.
“I do.”
“I fell in love with him after two days, and I know what you’re thinking,” Robbie said, raising his brows dramatically.
“Two days is way too short to experience that cosmic explosion of feelings.” He snapped his fingers.
“But I did fall in love with him. Madly. And if I hadn’t listened to everyone around me, telling me it was too soon, I might’ve ended up married to Axel and lived happily ever after. ”
“I have no desire to get married,” Sloane said quickly.
It wasn’t even on her agenda. Hell, it couldn’t be any further from it. These feelings for Kendall were certainly not strong enough to think about a diamond ring.
“What I’m trying to say is that people categorize love.
They put it in these little boxes.” Robbie made a figurative box with his fingers that looked more like an oval.
“If they don’t fit what society deems appropriate, that little box gets tossed out.
But what if love shouldn’t even be in a box to begin with?
What if it’s so untamable that all we can actually do is let it run free, let love do what it knows best?
” He scooted closer to Sloane until his hand was on her knee.
“What if love thinks two weeks is entirely appropriate, Sloane?”
Suddenly, the air felt thicker, or maybe it wasn’t the air. Maybe it was Sloane bracing for the realization that Robbie might just be right.
“She lied to me,” Sloane mumbled, resisting the revelation. “She lied to me for an entire week and then continued to lie to me when we got back.”
“It sounds more like she tried to protect you,” he said, giving her that thin-lipped smile she knew so well. It was like somehow he knew the secrets of the universe.
But the wounds were too raw. There was still too much salt around the edges, seeping into the fresh cut.
Sloane patted his hand and sighed. “What about the documentary? All that hard work was for nothing. Those people and their stories, no one’s ever going to hear them. And believe me, Robbie, they deserve to be heard.”
“The universe doesn’t hand us shiny little trophies for our efforts, lovie. Sometimes you gotta throw up the pieces in the air and catch them yourself.”
“When did you get so wise?” she grinned, shaking her head at her remarkable best friend who, in his own way, basically just told her to take the bull by the horns.
“Trauma, my dear,” Robbie said, reaching for his glass of wine. “You learn a few things when your husband breaks your heart, steals everything, and disappears like Houdini.”
“Have you heard from him at all?”
“Not a peep,” Robbie replied. “Although Charlie said a friend of his spotted him on Patong Beach just a week ago.”
“Thailand?” Sloane frowned. “I didn’t realize he left the country.”
“Good riddance.” Robbie wrinkled his nose. “I’ve cried myself a river, and I’m all dried up.” He then got this sparkly look in his eyes, which Sloane recognized instantly.
“Are you seeing someone?” she asked, beating him to the punchline.
He laughed so loud the sound bounced off the chrome-plated giant, metallic conch shell in the corner. “His name is Harry, and I met him a week ago at the gym. And no, he isn’t a personal trainer. He’s actually an anesthetist, and he fell off the treadmill and landed at my feet.”
“So romantic.”
“You have no idea.”
“I want you to meet him,” Robbie said. “But first, I need you to do something for me. Something very important.”
“I’ll die for you,” she teased.
“I love the commitment, my friend. But this might be harder.”
Sloane pulled a face, knowing that whatever he was about to say, she wouldn’t like it.
“I need you to forgive Kendall and tell her how you feel.”
“No…” Sloane started, shaking her head vigorously. But Robbie shut her up with a pinch to the upper arm.
“You know, I was relieved when you broke up with Louise,” he said, sitting forward, admitting something Sloane had known for ages. He’d never liked her, not even in the beginning. “She wasn’t right for you, and do you want my opinion?”
“I don’t,” Sloane snapped.
Robbie narrowed his eyes, but it didn’t dissuade him from carrying on.
“I don’t think there was much love left in your relationship at the end.
Or any. A broken heart isn’t the reason you’ve been skulking around for three months.
It’s the pain from her lies that she caused that’s holding you back. You’re scared of being hurt again.”
“I am not.”
“But when you got back from your trip,” Robbie went on, ignoring Sloane now.
“It’s so easy to see that you’re different.
You’re radiating, Sloane. Kendall did that.
She brought the sun back into your life.
” He swung his arm around her shoulder and squeezed.
“So, just think about it,” he insisted. “You don’t have to do it right away.
But there’s a reason they say the sooner, the better. ”
“Fine,” Sloane grunted.
Tomorrow maybe, when the smell of Kendall wasn’t still stuck in her nose… or maybe not at all.