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His eyes narrowed. “Have Travis and Hope been whispering shit into your ear again? Is that what this is?”
“You’re still dodging my question.” I took one step closer to the bar. “Either you be straight with me about this or I walk.”
A dark emotion flickered across his face. “Didn’t I tell you not to threaten me with that ever again?”
“I let you keep your secrets, Dane. I respect your right to have them—it’s not like we’re a real couple who needs to be open with each other. But this is different, so I want to know the truth.”
“You think I’ve been sneaking around with other women? That’s what you think?”
My heart sank. He was avoiding the question because he didn’t want to admit the truth. Anger rose up sharp again before the pain could swallow me. “Fuck this.” I spun on my heel and stalked across the room.
“Vienna—”
I whirled and jabbed a finger in his direction. “No, if you don’t respect me enough to give me a straight answer then I’m done here. I don’t expect you to care for me, confide in me, or bare your soul, but you could at least be straight with me when it counts.” I dipped my hand into my purse. “Oh, I think this will appease your curiosity.” I tossed him the flash drive, which he caught easily. “Have fun,” I spat.
Breathing hard, I hurried upstairs and marched into my room. Closing the door behind me, I flipped the lock just in case he thought to follow me. I wasn’t interested in anything he might have to say. I needed to pack my shit and go.
I stilled, remembering that I only had my small suitcase. Shit, I’d have to leave most of my things and just pack some clothes and essentials. Then I could go to … well, I wasn’t sure yet. Anywhere but here.
Storming into the walk-in closet, I grabbed the small case from a shelf and began to fill it with the clothing I’d need. The back of my throat ached, and it felt as though a massive pressure sat on my chest.
Tears stung my eyes—not just tears borne of hurt, but of anger. I would not cry. No. I refused to shed any tears over him.
I used the tricks I’d learned as a child to fight back tears—pinched the skin between my thumb and forefinger and pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. It was Freddie who’d taught them to me. They worked now, just as they always had in the past.
Marching out of the closet, I tossed the other items I’d need into the case and then yanked the zipper closed. Taking a moment to compose myself, I scrubbed a hand down my face and closed my eyes. Instantly, images of him with the brunette popped into my head.
My chest squeezing, I snapped open my eyes. Fuck, it shouldn’t make me feel so sick and cold to think of him with another woman.
Hooking the strap of my purse over my shoulder, I picked up the suitcase and left the room. My insides seized as I began to descend the winding staircase. He stood at the bottom, barring my path.
“We’re going to talk,” he said, his tone non-negotiable.
Refusing to let him see the hurt churning inside me, I gave him a blank look. “Another time.”
“Who sent you the flash drive?”
“I haven’t a clue. There was no note. It was posted to o-Verve and addressed to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go.”
His brow raised. “You don’t want to know who the woman is? You don’t want to know why I was at that club? I know how those pictures must look to you. Collectively, they paint a very ugly image of me—one that clearly had the desired effect, because you want to walk. But none of it is what it seems.”
Yeah. Right. “Like I said, we’ll talk another time.”
“No, we’re going to do it now. We can have the conversation right here, if you like. Makes no difference to me.”
I ground my teeth. “Dane, I’m not in the mood to—”
“She was Hugh’s favorite call girl.”
I felt my lips part. “Excuse me?”
“Even when he was in his later years, plenty of women—young and old—were eager to share his bed because he had money and power. But Hugh wasn’t interested in having a pretty ornament who’d lyingly profess to love him; he said it would be no different than him paying for sex, only he’d have to deal with the aggravation that came with a shallow relationship. So he stuck to high-end call girls, because then at least everyone knew where they stood.
“He developed a fondness for Lacey—she had a shit childhood and got into prostitution because there was nothing that she wouldn’t do to provide for her eight-year-old son. She became his regular. Before he died, he told me he’d be leaving her fifty grand in his will and one of his apartments, but that she could only have those things if she gave up her job as a call girl and went back to school, just as she dreamed of doing.
