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“Thanks. I’ve put a lot of work into it.” I was starting to feel strange like I should never have let her inside. Some instinct had me wanting to ask her to leave immediately. “So, not to be rude, but I’m in the middle of my workday…” I let my words drift off, hoping she’d get to the point of her visit.
Tiff tucked her hands into her pockets and turned to me. “I’ve decided to leave Southport,” she announced.
“Oh.” I didn’t quite know what to say. I didn’t know her well enough to really care if she left town or not, but I didn’t want to say that. “Didn’t you just move to town?”
“I did. But things haven’t gone quite the way I had hoped they would.” She looked so sad that I couldn’t help but feel sympathy toward her.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Tiff. Does it have to do with the guy you were hoping to reconnect with?” I asked, putting two and two together.
Tiff started chewing on her bottom lip. “That’s why I’m here actually.” She took a deep breath as if steeling herself. “When I met you, Skylar, I felt an instant connection. I thought you were someone I could see myself becoming friends with.”
I was flattered. “Thanks, Tiff. Honestly, not many people say that about me,” I chuckled.
She laughed too. “Well, they’re idiots, because you’re absolutely lovely. And I know if I were to stay here, we’d become close. I can feel that. Can you?”
“Sure,” I agreed, more because it felt like that was what she expected me to say.
“And because I like you, Skylar, I feel it’s my duty as your almost friend to tell you—” she took another deep breath, “the man I came to Southport for, the man I planned to reconnect with, the man who I have spent the last ten years loving, is...Robert Jenkins.” She watched me closely as I digested the information.
“Robert Jenkins,” I repeated, not quite understanding what she was saying.
She nodded, her glossy blonde hair falling over her shoulder in a perfect wave. “Robbie and I have a long history. We were together for a while. We were in love. But things got complicated.”
“You and Rob were in love?” I kept repeating what she was saying. I felt as if I were hearing her from the end of a long tunnel. Why was she telling me all this? Then I frowned. “But you’re so much older than Rob.” Maybe that was a dick thing to say, but it was the truth. Tiff was easily fifteen years older than Robert.
Tiff lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug. “The heart wants what the heart wants. Neither Robbie nor I cared about things like age. We only wanted each other.”
My brain started functioning again and things were fitting into place. “And you’re telling me all this because I told you that Rob and I were together. What is this?” I demanded.
Tiff reached out and took my hands. “I’m leaving town, but I needed you to know the truth about the man you’re with. The man I know intimately.”
I didn’t like the way she used the word intimately. As if she knew things about the man I loved that I didn’t.
“What in the hell are you talking about?” I should ask her to leave. This was becoming too strange. I didn’t want her here, in my house, saying things about Robert…
“I met Robbie at a strip club back when he was in law school,” she began.
“You both were at a strip club?” I frowned.
“I paid for a private dance and the dancer was Robbie,” she shared. “But he was going by the name Billy then. Billy the sexy barrister.” She giggled and I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.
“You expect me to believe Robert Jenkins the lawyer used to strip under the name Billy the sexy barrister? Come on now. I wasn’t born yesterday.” I rolled my eyes.
“I know it must be hard to believe, but trust me, Skylar, he was the best male dancer I had ever seen. That body…” she closed her eyes and licked her lips. I wanted to smack her. What the hell? I didn’t want her imagining my boyfriend with his clothes off.
She opened her eyes again, her expression was hard to read. “That first night I took him home with me. We had an incredible night together—”
I held my hand up. “I don’t need to hear about that. If you’re only here to share your sexual history with my boyfriend, then you can get the fuck out. I’m not interested in your jealous bullshit,” I snapped, losing my patience and about two minutes from physically throwing the way-too-beautiful woman out of my house.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up in the memory,” she apologized. “But that night I offered him a different kind of job. You see, I had made a lot of money sending my employees on dates with very rich women. I knew Robbie would be perfect.”
