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Chapter Twenty-Five
Olivia moved out sometime between their breakup and Sammy waking up the next morning. He hadn’t heard her come home. He’d stayed up late, hoping to catch her on her way in. He didn’t know what he’d say to her; he just knew he needed to see her, talk to her, before she left.
Only she hadn’t come home, not even after the clock ticked past midnight. His body had finally rebelled, and he’d fallen into a troubled sleep. When he woke up a little past nine, he found Olivia’s door ajar and her room cleaned out. Nothing in the closet, on the desk, or in the dresser drawers. Nothing in the bathroom. No note, text, or voicemail. She was just...gone.
Sammy sank onto her perfectly made-up bed and covered his face with his hands, pain shredding his heart into a million ribbons. The silence was deafening. Other than the faint trace of her perfume, it was like she’d never been there at all.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. The words echoed back at him, heavy and sorrowful.
He closed his eyes, trying to breathe. It hurt. The air, the silence, everything. It hurt so fucking bad he might as well have fed his heart through a wood chipper and stomped on the resulting pieces for good measure.
Sammy thought he’d done the right thing. He loved Olivia too much to let her give up on her dream for him. She’d gotten into her predicamentbecauseof him. If he hadn’t fucked up somehow with the roach thing, the post never would’ve circulated online, and her company wouldn’t have had an issue with their relationship. It wouldn’t have made her choose.
I would’ve chosen you.
He released a shuddering breath, wishing not for the first time that life didn’t fuck them over.
Sammy loved Olivia. Olivia loved him. They hadn’t said it out loud over the summer, but they hadn’t needed to. It’d been there in every kiss, every smile, every moment they’d spent together. And still, it wasn’t enough.
His phone pinged with a text. Then another. Then another.
He snatched it up, hoping it was Olivia, but it wasn’t. It was Penny with a simple message:We found out who it was! Check your email.
Sammy’s stomach lurched.
His team had been working like crazy to figure out who’d been behind the viral tweet. Other than his or her username, @raiderssucks23 was anonymous. They hadn’t posted since the cupcake incident, nor had they spoken with reporters.
After a thorough review of the bakery’s protocols and interviews with all the staff, Sammy had doubted the veracity of the tweet’s claim more and more. Their food safety standards were top-notch, his employees excelled at their jobs and were loyal as hell to Sammy, and Crumble & Bake had received an A grade from the Department of Public Health for as long as it had been in business. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Sammy was convinced the roach accusation was sabotage. Unfortunately, without knowing who the accuser was, that was impossible to prove.
Sammy opened his email. The blood drained from his face as he scrolled through the attached screenshots and pictures. By the time he reached the last attachment, the smoldering embers of anger in his stomach had erupted into full-blown fury.
Thanks. I’ll take it from here,he texted back.
He stood, got in his car, and drove to Telegraph Hill. He parked in front of the modern two-story house with the Hummer in front and rang the doorbell. The Hummer no doubt got plenty of stink eye in environmentally conscious San Francisco, but the driver likely didn’t give a shit.
Sammy rang the doorbell again. After three more rings, he heard footsteps before the front door flew open.
“What the hell?” Edison demanded. He was barefoot and wore a loosely belted bathrobe that was in danger of unbelting. “Are you—”
Sammy’s fist slammed into his face before he could finish his sentence.
Edison howled and clutched his bleeding nose. “What the fu—ugh!”
Another punch, this time to the other side of his face.
Sammy stepped into the foyer and kicked the door shut behind him while he dodged Edison’s pathetic attempts to retaliate.
“I’ll sue you for this, you fucking asshole,” Edison babbled, his words muffled through the hand over his face. “I willdestroy you.I will—”
He squeaked in terror when Sammy grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. The fury burned bright inside Sammy, fueling his adrenaline, but he kept his face and voice calm when he spoke. “What will you do, Eddie?” he asked, using Edison’s hated childhood nickname. “Will you hire someone to fake finding a cockroach in one of my cupcakes and post the photo online?”
Edison’s eyes bugged, and Sammy smiled thinly. “Yeah, I know. Found out today—I hired an investigator to do some sleuthing, and he finally uncovered @raiderssucks23’s real identity. Seen him before?” He pulled up the relevant screenshot on his phone and shoved it in front of Edison’s face. The photo showed a stocky guy with dark hair and a mean mug. Sammy had seen him only once before, but he recognized him on sight. It was Bulldog, the guy who’d accused him of sexting his girlfriend all those weeks ago.
Real name: Bobby Cooper. Girlfriend: Amanda Lerning. Girlfriend’s profession: paralegal at Sterling, Wilson & Cartwright, AKA Edison’s law firm.
Edison sneered. “No clue who that is, but it sure don’t look like me.”
“No, but it sure does look like your paralegal’s boyfriend.”
