Page 88 of Sexy

The doors open and I slip in, but Claudio is right there, out of breath and talking a mile a minute. “It was a misunderstanding, Fletcher. It was—”

I tune him out. Fuck that.

“—and she was manipulated, you know this. She was—”

“She had a very low opinion of me, Claudio. And I’m pretty sure that hasn’t changed.”

The doors open to the lobby and I walk straight out, Claudio still keeping stride, still making excuses for her.

“Just talk to her, Fletcher. Please. For me.”

I stop outside the hotel and wave to the valet to bring my car. “Why?” I say, whirling back to him. “So she can say she’s sorry? It’s easy to be sorry when you find out all your preconceived notions are wrong, isn’t it? It’s easy—”

“She didn’t know,” he says, almost pleading.

“Isn’t that the point, Claudio? Isn’t that the fucking point?”

He stops talking as I stare at him, maybe a little defeated or maybe just disappointed in me for my predictable reaction. Then his expression changes to anger. “You weren’t fair to her either. So get off your high horse and stop being a prick. Stop being the asshole you want everyone to see you as and be real for a minute.”

I look around to find two dozen people staring at us.

But Claudio doesn’t care about perceptions right now. He’s pissed off. “You only saw what you wanted to see as well. So don’t stand there all high and mighty and tell me that you don’t owe her an apology. That you don’t owe each other an apology. Because if you walk out this time, she’s moving on. She saw you back there, Fletcher. Her eyes met mine just before you stormed out. So she knows now. She knows you’re here. And if you don’t man up and get it out in the open, then you burned this bridge.”

He plants his hands on his hips and stares me down, daring me to do it.

“I’ll be glad if you leave, you know. You hurt her, Fletcher. Bad. She tried to contact you many times and you turned your back. She’s my best friend, so I don’t take kindly to people who make her sad.”

“Please, Claudio. She was—”

“Don’t,” he says, putting a hand up. “Don’t, OK? She did her best with the information she had. You were the one who knew everything. You can’t expect people to make the right decisions when they only have half the information. You know that better than anyone.”

I growl out my frustration. He’s referring to my matchmaking. My fuckup with Cole and Katie. My secrets. All of which are out in the open now, since my name is all over the fall TV schedule.

“And don’t pull this bullshit that she only wants you because you’re not a stripper anymore, either,” Claudio continues. “Because it’s not fair. She started that show up again, Fletcher. She did all of it. She held the auditions, she hired the dancers. She found the best choreographer she could and was part of every bit of it. So fuck you and your attitude. She didn’t want to be with you because you were a liar, not because you were a stripper.”

“Well,” I snarl back, “it would’ve been a lot easier to know that if I was still stripping instead of what I’m doing now, wouldn’t it.”

“You walked out on her. If you hadn’t, she’d have stuck by you. And the only reason you’re still pissed off now is because you think she’s gonna use you. Well, newsflash, asshole. You used her last year and she looked past it. So just fuck you if you can’t extend her the same consideration.”

Claudio turns to leave me there, but it’s me who catches his arm this time. “Wait.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Fletcher Novak.

My eyes meet Claudio’s just as Fletcher turns to walk out of the rehearsal room. My breath hitches in my chest and my stomach gets a sinking feeling that I haven’t felt in months.

I’ve done my best to put him behind me. Come to terms with the way I judged him. The way I hurt him. All the many, many mistakes I made with Fletcher Novak over the short time we were… friends.

Because that’s what he was to me. In every way. It’s just too bad I didn’t have the good sense to realize it when I had the chance.

I tuck away the urge to run after him and scream his name. Beg him to forgive me and all my preconceptions about who and what he is. It takes me several seconds. And by the time I look away from the door, the entire troupe has noticed.

Steve shoots me a sympathetic look, then clears his throat and grabs the attention of the dancers so I can recover.

“OK,” I say after that moment passes. “Let’s do it again, guys. From the top. We’ve got a show tonight, and we’re gonna blow this town away.”

They smile and joke, as they take their positions again. The music restarts and the lights come on, allowing me to make a dignified escape off the stage.