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“I got an interesting package in the mail today—well, shit, it wasn’t actually for me; it was for Jovana. But I’d just opened our wedding invitation that had also come in the mail, and I was so goddamn distracted that I didn’t see her name on the package and assumed it was for me.” I wrapped an arm across the middle of my stomach.
As Holden stared at me, his hands hung between his spread knees, a dumbfounded look growing across his face. “Okay ...”
“It was a fucking plaque.” I couldn’t stand here. I needed to move. So I pushed myself off the window and went into the kitchen, where I’d left the gift on the counter and lifted it high enough for them to see. “Boston College sent this to her—the school where she got her bachelor’s—as a gift because she had the most-read article in the school newspaper.” I set my vodka down so I could grip the plaque with both hands, aiming it toward their faces. “You know, the article that was titled ‘Hooked for Life or Marketing Ploy?’ The one that went fucking viral? And was written by Anonymous?” The wood felt so acidic in my hands, I wanted to throw it across the room. I set it down before I whipped it like a Frisbee. “The writer wasn’t so anonymous after all. It was Jovana.”
“Hold on a second.” Easton moved to the end of the cushion. “Let me make sure I have this straight.” He clasped his hands together, and I could tell he was deep in thought. “She wrote the article that appeared in the school newspaper? The one that published right after the Celebrity Alert went out?”
Both of my hands clenched into fists. “Yes.”
“And she never told you she was the one who wrote the story?” Easton continued.
“Correct.” I cleared my throat, the sound like a growl. “And I’m positive she had no intention of ever telling me. My address isn’t even on this goddamn package. It’s her old apartment, but because they sent it through the mail, it was forwarded here.”
“But you said it was a gift?” Holden inquired. “So Jovana didn’t even know it was coming, right?”
“Right.” I took a sip. “What’s your point?”
“My point is, she wasn’t hiding the plaque from you, because she didn’t even know she was getting it.”
“Insignificant.” I waved my hand. “Moving on to the real point, which is that she signed a fucking contract to marry me. She then began to date me. And then I told her I had feelings for her, that I cared about her, that I wanted more with her. And the whole time”—I squeezed the glass as I walked back to the wall of windows—“she was fucking lying to me.”
Holden shook his head. “Lying ... no.”
I paused midstep and glared at him. “Why the hell are you sticking up for her?”
“I’m not.”
“But you are. I feel like you have been since I started this story.”
“I’m just trying to make you see where she was coming from, something you’re usually unable to do because you’re stuck so far inside your head, all you feel is rage.” Holden glanced around the room. “Where is she, anyway?”
“Out for a walk,” I snapped, and kept marching across the floor until the windows were behind my back. “The article that she wrote was fucking nasty. You both know that. It was meant to tear me down and destroy me. And she didn’t just come for me, she came for Hooked too. And then she signed that contract, knowing she shredded me, and she started promoting our company. Talk about being a conniving, backstabbing—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Holden said, interrupting me. “You need to look at this from a different angle.”
“Holden, I’m about ready to knock out your teeth.”
He raised his hand. “Hear me out, okay?” He paused, waiting for a response, which I wouldn’t give him. “You hooked up with Jovana the night we all went to the bar.”
“So?”
“Jesus, Grayson, give me a second.” Holden took a breath. “You had sex with her at your condo and things didn’t end well, am I right?”
I shrugged.
“And then you didn’t speak to her again until the night our executive team and Laura went to the bar to discuss your situation a bit further. And that was after the article was published and the Celebrity Alert aired, right?”
I moved the tumbler toward my mouth but didn’t take a drink. “I still don’t understand why any of this fucking matters.”
“You’re not putting yourself in her shoes,” Holden said. “Jovana isn’t a woman who sleeps around, I’m assuming. She felt something with you. A connection—whatever—and she went home with you. You guys did your thing. And then you basically told her you wanted nothing to do with her, and a relationship would never happen.” He pushed up his sleeves. “For a woman who doesn’t do one-night stands and wasn’t even on our app, can you imagine how that could make her feel? How low? How shitty? How used?”
“I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing right now ...”
“Fuck, Grayson, why can’t you understand what Holden is saying?” Easton bellowed.
I gazed at Easton. “Don’t even tell me you’re on his side ...”
“I’m not saying what she did was right. It wasn’t,” Easton replied. He tugged at the thigh area of his jeans, straightening them out to get more comfortable on the couch. “She should have told you, there’s no question about it—it’s definitely fucked up of her—but can you at least comprehend why she didn’t?”
