My poor brain can’t process any of this. I searched high and low for this woman, and then boom. Here she is in my office.
“And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” I ask incredulously.
Her eyebrows lift. “What exactly was I supposed to say? Oh yeah, Remington Hale. I slept with that guy.”
“And then fucking left him without leaving your number or anything,” I bite out, all the hurt of the past seven years suddenly turning to anger.
She dips her eyes to the floor before slowly lifting them to look at me from beneath those long lashes. Her voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear her. “I thought you were married. Or that you were getting married the next day.”
I lift my hands and let them fall with a slap against my thighs. “What gave you that idea? I told youmy brotherwas getting married, not me.”
“It was something I saw in your phone,” she admits.
“You went through my phone?” I ask, about to pop a blood vessel in my temple.
“Of course not,” she replies, looking affronted at the very idea. “I meant to pick upmyphone to check the time, but I accidentally picked upyourphone. We both had black cases, so they looked similar in the dark. I saw the preview of a text message with a beautiful woman’s profile picture and realized I’d picked up yours by mistake.”
“Soooo, you just assumed the woman was my wife?” I drawl. “How the hell do you jump to that kind of conclusion?”
Mindy props her hands on her small waist, and juts out one hip. My traitorous gaze drops to her curves before quickly returning to her face.
“I jumped to that conclusion because the name under the picture was literallyDarling Fiancée.” She says the last two words slowly and pretends to underline them in midair with her pointer finger. “And the message preview said she was looking forward to seeing you at the wedding.”
“What?” I shake my head back and forth, trying to make this make sense. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never been engaged. Not even close. I can’t even think of…” I halt as a fleeting memory floats through my brain. “Serena,” I say in realization.
Mindy lifts her chin and crosses her arms over her chest. My mind wars with my eyeballs.Don’t look down. Don’t fucking look down.The eyeballs win but only for a second.
“So youwereengaged,” she states like it’s a goddamn fact.
I ram my hands into my hair and tug. “No, I was not engaged. It was a joke.” She blinks disbelievingly at me. “Serena is my best friend. When we were little kids, she said we should get married if we weren’t married to other people by the time we were thirty. When I turned twenty-nine, she changed her name in my phone toDarling Fiancée.As a joke,” I reiterate, pulling my hands from my hair. I can feel it sticking up all over the place, and I’m sure I look like a crazy person.
Hell, Ifeellike a crazy person. Because this situation is fucked up beyond comprehension.
Mindy’s jaw tightens. “All I knew at the time was what I saw. Can you imagine how I felt?”
My eyes almost shoot from their sockets. “What about how I felt?” I retort. “I woke up and you were gone, no note or anything. I was afraid something happened to you.”
Her gaze skitters away. “I’m sorry I left like that, but I was freaking out. I thought I’d just slept with another woman’s man. I thought I was your last little fling before you got married.”
“It fucking pisses me off that you’d think that about me.”
“Oh really,Joe?” she asks, snapping my fake name like a whip. “You’re saying I should have trusted some man I just met who already lied about his name?”
“Yes,Minnie,” I shoot back, giving her a taste of her own medicine.
Her face is the picture of defiance, and that only elevates my anger. And maybe turns me on just a little.
“I told you my real name,” she says. “You just misunderstood it, and I didn’t correct you because I already knew you were lying about your name.”
“So you recognized me,” I say, a statement more than a question.
“No, you pompous jerk. I didn’t recognize you. I could tell you were lying by the way you said it and how you couldn’t make eye contact.”
I drag a hand through my hair, getting more frustrated by the moment. I can’t believe all this could have been cleared up with a simple conversation.
“Why didn’t you wake me up and ask me about the text?”
Mindy bites her bottom lip, and I hate that I can remember the way that lip tasted. “Because I was ashamed. I’d never had a one-night stand, and then I found out you used me like I was nothing.”
