Chapter 60
REED
My heart crashing, I close the garage door behind me and turn around to face Georgie’s wrath. “I know how this looks, baby, but—”
“Don’t you dare call me baby!” she seethes, her eyes like meteors. “When your dick is still wet from another woman’s pussy!”
Oh, Jesus. “I didn’t fuck her, Georgie.”
“Liar. I saw her flushed face, Reed. Her smudged lipstick. Her tousled hair. That look in her eye like she just got fucked. You not only fucked her, you fucked the living shit out of her!”
“No. Calm down and listen to me.”
“Why? So you can tell me I’m crazy and paranoid? So you can look me in the eye and lie through your teeth?”
“I’m not lying to you, Georgie. I didn’t fuck Isabel.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You expect me to believe you and Isabel came into your garage, while your party was raging in your house, for who knows how long... because you suddenly felt the need to show her—a woman you’ve known for ten years—your car collection?”
My stomach twists. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. I run my hand through my hair. Fuck!
Georgina’s eyes are wild. “If I hadn’t stumbled upon you two at exactly the right moment to catch you red-handed, would you have come clean about what you did?
Or would you have taken me to your bed after the party, and fucked me right after fucking her?
Would you have at least done me the courtesy of showering before you fucked me, to get her off your dick and lips? ”
“You need to listen to me. Isabel asked me to talk in private, about something important, and the garage was the only place I knew nobody would barge in on us.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” she screams. “I saw her smudged lipstick, Reed!”
Oh, God. I feel the ground giving way underneath my feet.
Panic streaks through me. Regret. Remorse.
But there’s no way around it. If she saw Isabel’s smudged lipstick, then I have to come clean.
I have no choice. “Yes, I kissed her,” I admit, my stomach twisting and churning. “But, I swear, I didn’t fuck her.”
“Liar!” she shrieks.
She pushes on my chest and whizzes past me, racing past the hoods of my cars, and I follow her, my panic spiraling.
“She asked me to give her a goodbye kiss, for old time’s sake, and I did it,” I blurt, keeping step with her. “How could I say no to that? But it meant nothing to me.”
She whirls around in front of my Porsche, her eyes aflame.
“I don’t believe you only kissed her as far as I can throw you.
But let’s pretend you’re telling the truth, for a minute.
How could you say no?” she asks, echoing me.
“How could you not say no, Reed?” Tears fill her eyes.
“You said it made you crazy to think of me kissing anyone else. You promised exclusivity was a two-way street, and I believed you. You said you’re not a cheater!
You said that to me, and I trusted you!”
Anguish grips me. Why did I do this? Why did I fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to me?
I want to rewind the clock. Take it all back.
I have to fix this. “I’m so sorry, Georgie.
I admit I fucked up. But you have to believe me, I only kissed her, and it meant absolutely nothing to me. In fact, I told her—”
“Even if you ‘only’ kissed her, which I don’t believe, does that really make it okay in your book?
If I secretly disappeared with someone..
. Let’s say Savage. He’s hot as hell. Let’s say I disappeared with Savage into your garage, in the middle of the party tonight, without telling you, and I made out with him in here until my lips were swollen and my lipstick smeared and my face bright red and my hair tousled—but it meant nothing to me!
—that would be perfectly fine with you? That wouldn’t break your heart, after everything that’s happened between us this week? ”
“Georgie,” I choke out, the enormity of what I’ve done slamming me.
“Please, put yourself in my shoes. The example of Savage isn’t the same thing.
I’ve known Isabel ten years. She’s getting married and wanted one last kiss.
It was a goodbye kiss, Georgie. It’s unreasonable for you to expect me not to give her that, after ten years of knowing her, when I’ve only known you a matter of weeks. ”
She looks crushed. Furious. Heartbroken. “Obviously, this past week meant a whole lot more to me than it meant to you.” She throws her hands over her face. “God, I was so stupid to let my guard down with you. I was so stupid to think this week could have meant anything to you.”
I feel like my heart is physically cracking in two. “Georgie, don’t say that. Please don’t doubt how much this past week with you has meant to me. It’s been the best week of my life. Every minute with you, Georgie—”
“Save it!” She marches away, whizzing past my cars, all the way to the back wall filled with sports equipment, which is where she whirls around to face me. “How’d you meet her, Reed?”
“Who?”
“Isabel!”
“I told you how I met her. At CeeCee’s birthday party.”
“Josh didn’t introduce you to Isabel?”
I pull a face of confusion. “No. Why are you asking—”
“Josh didn’t introduce you to Isabel at one of his parties?”
“No. I introduced Josh to Isabel at one of Josh’s parties. Why are you asking me this?”
“Because Isabel told me she met you through a mutual friend. And when I asked the name of the friend, she said Josh Faraday. She said she went to one of Josh’s parties, and he introduced her to you that night.”
My stomach is twisted into knots. My breathing is shallow. Fuck. “Isabel is mistaken,” I say. “Which is understandable, since it was ten years ago.”
Georgina throws up her hands. “Why are you both lying to me about this? It’s something so meaningless and insignificant! I don’t get it!”
“We’re not both lying. I’m telling the truth, and Isabel is simply mistaken. Why are we even talking about this?”
“Because it’s just further proof that every word out of your mouth is a fucking lie.
You didn’t take Isabel into your garage, in the middle of your party, to kiss her goodbye.
You fucked her goodbye. And you didn’t meet Isabel at CeeCee’s birthday party, either.
I saw the photo spread in Rock ‘n’ Roll from CeeCee’s party, and in one of the shots, behind Justin Timberlake, you and Isabel were arriving together to the party.
Reed, you were getting out of the limo with Isabel.
Ergo, you did not ‘meet’ her at that party, as you’ve told me.
You cannot meet someone you’ve arrived with.
Ergo, you lied to me about that. And you’re lying to me about this. ”
I feel like I’m going to throw up. “Isabel and I were on a blind date that night,” I blurt, desperation seizing me.
“We hadn’t met before that night, but I’d seen her photo.
She didn’t want me to pick her up at her house.
So, she asked me to pick her up in the limo a mile away from the party.
I think I picked her up in front of a McDonald’s.
And that’s why that photo showed us arriving together.
But, in my mind, when I told you I’d ‘met’ Isabel at CeeCee’s party, I was telling the truth.
I mean, technically, we met a few blocks away, yes, but I wasn’t intentionally lying to you.
It was just too complicated to explain the logistics.
Yes, she was my date that night. Yes, we arrived together.
But I swear to God, I also met her that night.
I was telling you the truth about that night, Georgie.
And I’m telling you the truth about tonight.
I’m sorry I kissed her. I shouldn’t have done that.
But, trust me, if you’d seen the way it went down, you’d understand it didn’t take anything away from the amazing week we’ve had—and the amazing summer—”
“I told you about Mr. Gates!” she screams, a sob lurching out of her. “I told you about Shawn, and you said you’re not a cheater! You said nobody is allowed to hurt me, ever again, and then you came in here and threw me away like I never mattered!”
My heart feels like it’s physically shattering.
I take a step toward her, determined to convince her.
To fix this mess I’ve created. “I’m sorry.
I think maybe, in part, I was sabotaging myself.
I think a piece of me maybe got scared of how much I’m feeling for you, Georgie.
Because, I swear, I’ve never felt the way I do with you before. ”
She stares at me with disdain for a very long moment, before saying, calmly, “I have one question. And I want you to answer it with complete honesty.”
My heart leaps. Is she throwing me a lifeline? If I answer this question right, will she forgive and forget that stupid kiss ever happened?
“Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
Her nostrils flare. “Did you have anything to do with me getting my internship, including but not limited to donating the money that ultimately went to me as my salary?”
Oh, fuck. “Yes. But let me explain...”
But she’s done listening to me. As quick as lightning, she grabs a golf club out of my bag and marches straight for my Bugatti, the club raised high above her head.
“Not the Bugatti!” I shout at the top of my voice. “Georgie, please! Not the Bugatti!”
To my surprise, Georgina stops mid-swing, barely missing the hood of my Bugatti, and marches to the next car in line.
My yellow Ferrari. The first expensive car I bought when I started making some real money.
Up Georgina’s golf club goes... and then down it comes, smashing into the Ferrari’s newly repaired right front fender.
“You told me to go Left Eye Lopes on the next guy who hurts me?” she shrieks. “Well, guess what, asshole? You’re that guy!”
As I stand to the side, watching in shocked silence, Georgina raises her club and smashes my Ferrari’s windshield.
“This one’s for you, Reed!” Panting, she heads to the car’s passenger door.
“And this one is for Shawn!” She brings the club down again.
Next up, the passenger window. “Another one for Reed!” She walks around to the back of the car and whacks both taillights and the bumper with her club.
But this time, the name she yells breaks my fucking heart.
“Mr. Gates! Mr. Gates! Mr. Gates!” From there, she marches to the driver’s door and whacks it with all her might, yet again in Mr. Gates’ name.
The same thing with the driver’s side window and left front bumper. “Mr. Gates! Mr. Gates!”
And through it all, I say nothing. Do nothing.
I stand back and watch, and take my punishment.
It kills me to hear her scream my name along with Mr. Gates’.
And worse, it shatters me to know I deserve it.
Indeed, I deserve every single dent in that car.
Every drop of her rage. She trusted me completely.
I asked her to surrender to me, without holding back.
And she did. In body, heart, and soul. And I knew it.
And then, I turned around and betrayed her.
What’s wrong with me? Women have been asking me that my whole life.
And now I’m wondering the same thing. What’s wrong with me?
As I watch Georgie turning my three-hundred-thousand-dollar car into a pile of scrap metal and shattered glass, I feel pain and remorse and regret like nothing I’ve felt before. But I also feel two unexpected emotions, too.
One, I feel pride. I’m damned proud of Georgie for going Left Eye Lopes on me, and on all the men who’ve hurt her. As she should. Smash that Ferrari, baby. Smash it and never let anyone hurt you again.
And, two, as strange as it sounds, even as I watch Georgina decimate my Ferrari, I feel a twinge of hope. Because, even in the midst of her justifiable rage and confusion, Georgina didn’t bring her club down on my beloved Bugatti.
Yes, Georgina is heartbroken and angry and deeply confused.
She doesn’t know what happened between Isabel and me in this garage tonight.
She doesn’t understand how or why the money for her salary came from me.
All of which isn’t good for me. Obviously.
But, thanks to my Bugatti, and the fact that there’s not a scratch on it, I have reason to believe it’s not hopeless for me.
Indeed, thanks to my pristine Bugatti, I have reason to believe Georgina is holding out hope I’ll eventually be able to win her back.