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CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Kate
Itear through the double doors at the back of the room with enough force to sting my palms. The foyer area is deafeningly quiet save for a handful of people sipping wine by a makeshift bar.
Heads turn as I rush past the empty chairs and couches, heading straight for the exit.
How could Damon keep this from me? Just this morning, sex drunk and sleepy, he promised me we would see each other again.
An ugly burn spreads through my stomach and up my throat.I trusted him, gave myself to him. Angry tears slip from my eyes, but there’s no one to blame but myself.
“Well, well,” Shaylea says, blocking my path. “If it isn’t Damon’s little escort.” I fist the material of my gown, setting my jaw as she sneers. “Upset about the promotion, are we?”
“What do you want, Shaylea?” I don’t care to decode whatever angle she’s working.
“Me? Nothing at all. I just had to see it for myself.”
Turning over my shoulder, I double-check that I haven’t been followed by Chuck or Brandi. But then, why would they come for me? After tonight, I’m never going to see them again.
A sharp pang hits me square in the chest. “See what?”
Shaylea’s blonde hair fans over her shoulder as she leans in close. “Did you honestly believe that a man like Damon would turn down that offer for the likes of you?”
“I would never ask him to do that,” I say weakly.
She studies me with an unkind grin slowly spreading.
“Oh my God. You had no idea.” Her laugh is more of a bark. “That’s just rich.”
Blood rushes to my ears as I try to move past her. “Let me by.”
She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Honestly, this is for the best. What kind of relationship could you two have? Your little summer fling wouldn’t have lasted.”
I blink at her mock sympathy as she speaks my fears into existence.
“Thanks for your concern, Shaylea. But frankly, I don’t give a damn what you think.”
I shoulder past her, breaking through the main hotel lobby and out toward the parking lot, but the jab clings like black tar, weighing me down with doubt.
The bus stop is another block away. I have my wallet and passport in the small clutch I brought with me, but the rest of my things are up in our room.
I can’t bring myself to go back inside and risk running into Damon, but being alone out here with reality screaming in my face is almost worse.
After pulling out my cell, I attempt several calls to the taxi service that runs through the city. “Come on, come on. Pick up.”
I try again with no luck.
A breeze wraps around my legs and flutters my dress as I walk across the pavement to a cluster of palms on the opposite side of the circle drive.
“Please,” I quietly beg the island, as if the magic Damon spoke of truly exists. “Give me something here.”
“Kate!” Damon calls from the side of the resort.
His dark hair is mussed from running, and it’s doing that thing I’ve always found so cute where random strands fall loose over his forehead. The suit jacket he wore for his speech is gone, leaving him in a fitted dress shirt with the sleeves carelessly rolled up.
My heart aches for this to be a bad dream. I want to force myself awake in the comfort of his arms, instead of free falling away from him with each passing second.
Damon’s shoulders heave as he regains his breath. “Let me explain.”
