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“I find that hard to believe, somehow, since you issued the invitation.”
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his voice; it was low and silky as a ribbon, but it was the winter coolness of the tone that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in alarm. Her eyes jerked to lock with his, and for a moment she needed to recover from the utter slamming force of his accusing gaze.
“Jules,” she said, slowly tossing her hair from side to side. “I didn’t invite him here. I did not mean for him to… Uh, here, you can take my coffee, Garrett, if you’d like.”
She extended a mug, trying once again to turn this crazy morning around to the morning she wanted. The one she’d dreamed of. If Garrett took the hospitable offering, Julian would have to take the second one and maybe after the croissants they’d all—
“Already bringing coffee to the love of your life, Molly? Too bad he was just leaving. Aren’t you, brother?”
Once again, Molly’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion over Julian’s frigid tone. For a dazed moment, she almost expected Julian to chuckle and admit he was teasing her. Like he did when he dared her to wear that wench costume or asked her to kiss his six-pack and go as low as she would go in the darkened office at Landon’s house.
But no laughter followed his words.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Garrett burst out.
Molly realized in dawning horror that Julian had referred to Garrett as the love of her life. She glanced down at the mugs both men had refused and the sticky residue of coffee on her wrist, growing numb in disbelief. Had he been making fun of her having stupidly thought she loved Garrett once upon a time, or did he actually believe it to be true?
Drawing in a steadying breath, she walked around and shakily set the mugs and croissants on a nearby desk. A little part of her already wanted to get hysterical, but she tried reminding herself that, although she’d spoken out impulsively, the last thing she’d intended was to harm Julian.
She would have time to explain all of this in a couple of minutes, just a few minutes more….
“Please tell me you’re having someone check your goddamned head because you’re not making any sense,” Garrett thundered, then he turned to her. “Thanks for your visit yesterday, Molly,” he said. “And for keeping us in the loop of this development.”
Molly froze. She could not even believe he would say that to her in front of Julian. Seriously, she’d never expected things to go south so fast. Suddenly, she trembled with the fantastical urge to fling the coffee mugs at Garrett’s face for ruining what should’ve been a perfect morning, for now there was no doubt whatsoever that Julian would believe she had been a little snitch who had betrayed his confidence and trust.
God. It sounded so bad now that she reflected on it, and yet she wouldn’t have even said it at all if they hadn’t infuriated her so on Julian’s behalf!
Instead of giving Garrett any sort of answer, she pursed her lips and pretended to be super busy sucking the spilled coffee from her left wrist. Garrett had spoken the words in true gratitude, maybe even with a bit of tenderness, but she still loathed the fact that Julian had found out that her mouth had apparently gotten ahead of her brain yesterday.
Garrett sighed and turned to Julian, his timbre hardening. “Think about it, before you do something even stupider,” he said, and walked toward the reception area and out to the elevators.
Molly finished sucking up the coffee and suddenly felt too energetic, as if she needed to do something. Parachute, river raft, hike Mount Everest? Artists were solitary people by nature, too emotional, too vulnerable, too incapable of handling awfulness like this. Fighting to stand still, she frantically counted the seconds after Garrett left that Julian remained silent. Just watching her. So very, very silent.
Fifty.
Fifty hellish seconds.
While Molly wanted to hide under the chair, blend with her mural or just scream.
Because she was just coming to realize how big a mistake she’d made. She’d done something very wrong to him. Very, very wrong.
Jules didn’t trust anyone. Anyone but her. Oh, God, now his family would be riding him hard about coming back. Maybe they couldn’t send him away like they used to when they were displeased with him, but did she dare wonder how they could pressure him to bend to their united wills?
What had she just done to him?
With a pounding heart, she waited for him to speak, every second eternal, miserable. The top two buttons of his polo shirt were unbuttoned. He wore the masquerade ring on his hand. His fingers were curling and uncurling into fists at his sides.
She wanted
to die.
“You ratted me out to my brother.”
He spoke softly. Too softly. Way too softly.
She sucked in a breath, surprised by the pain cutting through her rib cage. If he’d said, You suck. You’re a liar. Last night was a mistake, it might have hurt less. Shame spread through her like wildfire. Because how had she not seen this coming? “It’s not how it looks, Jules,” she told him, but his expression was so harsh and scary her gaze dipped once more to the floor.
His shoes were so polished and shiny. Were they advancing toward her?
