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George seems like someone who appreciates a simple, elegant, conservative look, and I think this dress with its classic style, and my hair up off my neck, and minimal jewelry, will do nicely.

Doing my makeup is the difficult part. Not because of the application—I keep it very simple, so I look smooth and fresh-faced. It’s the looking at myself in the mirror that’s hard to handle. Every time I make eye contact with myself I feel sick and like I want to cry, and I can’t look blotchy in front of all these important people at a fancy restaurant.

In spite of everything, I think I end up looking pretty nice. I test out a smile in the mirror, but it doesn’t feel right—too forced, too brittle.

If I get through this night, it’ll be a miracle.

I head down the stairs to meet the men, but the moment I get to the end of the hallway, I run into Liam coming up the stairs.

“Maeve,” he blurts out. Then, to my complete shock, he smiles. “I was hoping to find you.”

I didn’t know he was back at the house. I stare up at him warily. “You were coming to apologize?”

Liam actually scoffs. “Maeve, baby⁠—”

“I’m not your baby.”

“I did you a favor. Ford used you. He tried to use you so he could lie his way into that deal. He and his buddies were just treating you like a toy. I’ve taken care of all that.”

I stare at him for a moment, at a loss for words. It’s truly mind-boggling to me how he seems to be divorced from reality. How he’s developed the completely wrong ideas about everything.

This man didn’t appreciate me when he had me, and it seems he’s incapable of recognizing when I’m actually enjoying myself and being treated well, even when it’s right in front of his face. He lives in some kind of alternate universe where none of my issues with our past relationship matter, and where instead of ruining my life, this is some kind of big romantic gesture.

“You insulted me in front of your parents,” I point out, seizing on the first thing that springs to mind. “You called me a whore. You told them I was being passed around by their son and his two best friends. You think after that they’ll accept me in any way? That they’ll be happy I’m your girlfriend? I’m asking you this seriously because I don’t know what other possible answer there could be—are you insane?”

Liam stares at me like I’m the insane one. “My parents will be fine.”

The thing is, I think he really believes that. Because his parents have let him get away with everything his entire life. They’ve spoiled him. It makes sense that in his mind he’d think it was all going to be okay, because it’s always been okay for him in the past.

I take a deep breath. “Liam, I don’t know how I could’ve been any clearer at the ballet, but let me say this again. My not being with you has nothing to do with Ford, or Hayden, or Gabriel. The three of them could disappear off the face of the earth right now, and I still wouldn’t want to be with you. Because it’s not that I want to be with them instead.”

Although, I do want that.

“It’s that I am never going to be with you again. You took me for granted, disrespected me, talked down to me, mocked me, and cheated on me. And your behavior now proves that you haven’t actually grown or changed at all. You just blew up my entire life and made me look like a cheap slut in front of your entire family. You ruined your brother’s business deal. And even if I was being taken advantage of by them—and I wasn’t—I wouldn’t want you ruining their deal and interfering. It’s not your place. It’s not protective or chivalrous. It’s petty, cruel, and a complete temper tantrum. You’re a piece of shit, and I wouldn’t go back to you if you were the last man on earth.”

Liam’s jaw drops. “Maeve—I⁠—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I cut him off firmly. “I’m done with you, forever.”

I storm down the stairs, letting my righteous anger carry me the rest of the way. At least it helps me not think about going to dinner with these three men and what it will entail—whether I look good enough, whether they’ll be pleased with my performance.

Hayden, Gabriel, and Ford are standing by the front door in the foyer, waiting for me. They’re all wearing black suits, and while black tie is traditional and appropriate for a dinner like this, I can’t help but feel it makes them look like they’re in mourning.

That’s silly. The only person in mourning here is me. But they are clearly still upset about everything. Hayden leans in to say something but I quickly brush past him, not letting him finish. I don’t know what he’s going to say—I’m sure it’s something sweet—but I know that if I hear him right now I’ll cry. I’m hanging on by a thread.

“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing my coat and purse. The purse that they bought me. Wearing the clothes they bought me. I feel sick. “Let’s get this over with.”

Hayden’s face goes tight. Ford and Gabriel exchange a concerned glance.

I continue to push past them out through the front door, and we get into the cars to head to the restaurant.

We have a nice long table in the middle of the elegant space, and it looks like there will be ten of us. Myself, the three men, plus George and the other people from Silver Start. When everyone arrives, it turns out to be four additional people, since two of the men brought their wives.

Ford and Hayden keep mostly quiet, allowing Gabriel to put on a smile and be his charming self. Luckily Ford is usually a bit reserved anyway, so his silence doesn’t seem out of character. I loop my arm through his and let my engagement ring be clearly visible. Whatever else happens, we’re going to put on a good show.

We all sit down and the server takes our orders. It’s a nice Italian restaurant in Denver and I’m briefly grateful that Italian is such comforting food—I know I’ll like just about anything on the menu. It means I don’t have to think too hard about choosing.

“Thank you all for coming,” Ford says as the sommelier pours the wine. “You really didn’t have to make the trip down here in person.”