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Now.
“You’re different,” she accuses. “Alyson was right.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Now Alyson is talking shit behind my back. I groan as I picture Alyson calling Layla in for interference. And at this point, pissed doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel.
“Don’t worry, she didn’t go into any specific details with me. But she told me you’ve changed since being out here. That you plan to make bigger changes, too.”
Tomorrow, Alyson and I are going to sit down and have a very detailed conversation about keeping her mouth shut and her nose out of other people’s business. One—I pay her. Two—her job is to do what’s best for me, not her. And in no way is this benefiting me. This is all about her. I cannot believe she brought Layla here, purposely changed her flight and gave her my room number. What sort of game does she think she is playing? Does she seriously think this will sway my decision? My privacy is more invaded than ever now and a newfound rage builds inside me. A rage neither Alyson nor Layla will enjoy.
“Not that it is any of your business, but yes. I plan on moving back to Florida after I get a few things situated in California.”
“You cannot be serious. How will you work from here? What is so goddamn alluring about this place?”
I shift my weight, her questions irritating me. This conversation is done. And I’m done. With her and Alyson.
Just as I am about to shut the door again, a wicked grin lights up Layla’s face. A grin I know all too well. One that tells me she is about to do something spiteful and vindictive. Her eyes look past me, over my shoulder and into the room.
The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. A boulder sinks in my gut. Before I even turn around, I know Cora is standing behind me. I feel her. More than likely, she was curious as to what was taking me so long to return. She has no idea who Layla is, but Layla knows about her. Not her name, but that the one person I cared about most lives here. Right now, I am one-hundred-percent certain she knows this is her. And I know her well enough to know she is about to fuck everything up.
Before I turn to face Cora, I give Layla a glare of warning. Wordlessly telling her to keep her mouth shut and leave. But her smile grows wider and I know nothing good will come of this.
“Gavin—” Cora calls out behind me. “Is everything okay?”
I school my expression and turn to face her. “Everything is fine.” I want to add more, but I am at a loss for what to say.
“Hi,” Layla speaks up, my body going rigid at the sound. “I’m Layla. And you are?”
Layla extends her hand in Cora’s direction, but I step in front of her and block their possible connection. I don’t want her touching Cora, let alone getting within arm’s length.
“And you need to leave,” I tell her over my shoulder, trying once more to close the door.
“Why are you being so rude, Gavin?” Layla says, her pitch an octave higher and she reaches out and touches my bicep. I cringe away from her and start pushing the door closed, only to be met with Layla’s boot.
“Gavin, what’s going on?” Cora asks, hundreds of questions skittering across her face.
“Yeah, Gavin, what’s going on?” Layla’s tone becomes venomous and shrill.
I stand between the two of them, hoping this nightmare will end. Praying I fell asleep while Cora and I were watching television and this is all one huge, fucked-up dream. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it isn’t. And Layla is really standing here. And I am about to lose Cora all over again. Because what other plausible reason would Alyson have for bringing Layla here? None. Not a single one. And I don’t know which emotion holds more power over me in this moment—fear or fury.
The silence in the room has every nerve in my body on edge. My heart slams against my ribcage, grabbing the bones and rattling like a madman. I can’t breathe. Can’t speak. The light at the end of a very long tunnel slowly dims and fades. I have no idea what to do. Where to be. How to function. But just as I am about to spew out something, Layla shatters the silence in the room. Along with everything that matters in my life.
“Well, since no one else is speaking, I guess I’ll take the stage.” Layla steps closer to me, her hands clasping around my arm. “Like I said, I’m Layla. Gavin’s fiancée.”
Fuuuuck…
To be continued…
