“You could start with ‘I miss you.’”
“And if I don’t?”
“You can say that, too,” she says. “I deserve to know either way.”
I look over at where every red flag in the universe is waving in my direction, where her father and half of my senior team are now taking a photo together.
Then I look back at her.
“I’ve fucking missed you,” I say. “And I’ve thought about you every day since we last spoke…Happy?”
“No.” A small smile crosses her lips. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“If that’s even halfway true,” I say, pausing. “Why haven’t you called or texted me?”
“Because I wasn’t the one who asked for space.”
Fair point.I step closer, wanting to see her eyes.
“The sun isn’t out and we’re indoors,” I say, gently lifting her shades. “You don’t need to wear these, so…”
My sentence stalls at the full view of her face.
Small cuts border her left eye and her right one features a tell-tale grey mark from a brutal hit. She’s tried to cover the flaws with makeup, but the swelling is too hard to erase.
“Give me those back.” She snatches the shades from me, sliding them back into place.
“Have you tried anything from the dessert tower?” She tries her hand at small talk. “My parents flew in every pastry from Italy.”
“What the hell happened to your face?” I refuse to play along with her.
“It’s pretty hard to make a perfect cannoli, but somehow that chef nails it every time.”
“Scarlett…” I can feel my blood boiling. “Who the fuck hit you?”
“No one,” she says. “I ran into a door.”
“And you hit both eyes at the same time?”
“I’m fine, Jameson.” Her voice gives away another lie. “Please just drop it.”
“I won’t.” I close the gap between us. “Who did this to you?”
“It’s been really nice seeing you again.” She attempts to step away from me, but I grab her wrist. “If you’ll excuse me?—”
“If you think I won’t cause a fucking scene because this is your father’s party, you’re sadly mistaken...” I lower my voice. “Tell me who hurt you. Now.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She jerks her hand away. “You would’ve never known if you didn’t come talk to me anyway. You didn’t even know I was going to be here…”
“You have one more second to answer my question.”
“It was my mother, okay?” Her bottom lip quivers. “Is that good enough?”
As if she knows it’s not, she lets out a soft sigh and continues.
“She found me in New York last week—right after an audition—and then we got into a one-sided argument. She won with her hands. The end.”
“So, she finally knows about your double life?”
