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It's almost 2 a.m. and I’m pacing my living room like a caged tiger.
I still can’t believe I came out and asked Jordan to come to me tonight. I want to blame Dalia for putting the idea in my head, but I know it's all on me. With the insane jealousy I felt tonight it was either that or scratch the girl’s eye out.
I’d gone straight to grab Dalia in a blind rage after watching Leticia get handsy with Jordan.
“Are you okay?” Dalia had asked as I none-too-gently pulled her across the crowded exhibition hall to a less crowded area. “We’re not due to start for another fifteen minutes.”
“Not really, no. I’m so not okay Dalia.” Never in my entire life have I ever felt such possessiveness. In that moment Jordan was mine and I couldn’t bear another woman touching him. I actually felt sick to my stomach.
"I can't help it, and I hate that I can't." I blinked rapidly to clear the moisture gathering, fanning a hand in front of my hot face.
"Jordan?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to say more.
Dalia took my hand and made our way to the bathrooms. After she was satisfied the stalls were empty, she came back to me.
“Who’s the woman with him?”
“I don’t know.” My voice was a shaky whisper.Rage and desire swirled in the pit of my stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick." Why does Jordan always test me like this? Maybe if you hadn't avoided him in the last six weeks, seeing him wouldn't be such a test today. The voice in my head points out unhelpfully.
“Hey, hey, look at me, Bree. You will not cry. Or be sick. Your show starts in ten minutes. You will get it together because that’s what you do. You’re a boss bitch baby. That woman's got nothing on you.”
“He has a type obviously. Brunettes.”
“Oh my days, are you kidding me right now? Bree, have you even looked at yourself? Dark hair doesn’t mean anything. You're so different it's not even funny. You're voluptuous, sexy. If you’re Jordan’s type, then she doesn’t even live in the same zip code okay.”
“Maybe we have similar personalities then? Dalia, she was all over him and he let her just…touch him.” My gut twisted in disgust.
Dalia takes a breath. “Bree. It's time for brutal honesty, no more avoiding the issue. Do you really want Jordan? Or do you just hate the idea of some other woman around him? Because the man I saw six weeks ago wanted you desperately and you couldn’t stand him.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I shouldn’t want him. My dad was imprisoned by his father. My parents would turn in their graves if I ever had anything to do with him. And Drew, he’s like a father to me, it would break his heart.”
Dalia holds both of my hands. “I don’t want to sound callous, but this is about you, not what anyone else might think.”
“He broke my heart and abandoned me eight years ago.”
“And you never gave him a chance to explain.”
“Whatever could he have to say?”
“You’ll never know unless you talk to him. What did you feel in that moment when you went over and saw that woman in his arms?”
“Like he’s mine.” That came out more forceful than I planned.
“There you go babes.” Dalia chuckled. “You know what to do. Go get your man.”
“What, while she’s there?”
“I don’t know, I suppose it's up to you how you want to play it, but I tell you if another woman was all over my man, I’d grab him right from under her nose.”
I don't even think I can go back and face him. Besides I'm so awful at flirting he'll probably laugh at me. I might give it a try if he didn't have that smug, skinny half-naked woman who probably 'regrets nothing' beside him. "I can't"
"You can babe and you will. What's more, he'll be putty in your hands."
“I wish I had your confidence, Dalia.”
“Oh I’m just a great hype woman, don’t mind me, you should see me blushing like a virgin with Grant. It’s sickening.”
