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Her perfect mouth falls open in shock. “What?”
“Guess that throws a wrench into your plans, doesn’t it?” I slide the glass over to her. She looks like she needs it.
“Well,” she struggles to find the words, looking more like a fish with that gaping mouth of hers. “I guess I never took you for the marrying type.”
“Apparently, I am.”
Her eyes narrow. “We dated for six years, and you never once talked about marriage.”
I shrug. “Things change, darling.”
“This wasn’t your idea.” She sounds so sure of herself. As if she’s figured out the joke. I don’t correct her. Let her think what she wants. When I say nothing, she downs the glass in one go, stealing a napkin to dab at her lips. “So, who’s the lucky lady?”
I snort. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” I tip the bottle, only to find it finally empty. “Well, my bottle’s done for the night, and this is about all the company I can handle for the next twenty-four hours. I wish I could say it was great catching up. But it wasn’t.”
Stumbling from the chair, I grip the back of it just to stay upright. Damn. Since cutting back on the alcohol, I’ve really become a lightweight. Blair slips from her own chair, reaching out to help me. I shrug her off.
“Kill, let me help you get home at least.” There’s pity in her voice. And there’s nothing worse than that.
“Leave me alone,” I snarl, ripping my arm out of her grip. Blair blinks in surprise, frozen in place. “I don’t need you,” I hiss. “I’ve never needed you. If you think you can come back here and think a shitty apology will make everything go back to how it used to be, you’d be dead ass wrong.”
I push through the crowd, ignoring Blair’s calls to come back. Her voice is drowned out by the music, leaving me in peaceful chaos. I let the music carry me to the door and onto the street. She doesn’t follow me—not that I expected her to. Blair Blake doesn’t chase anyone. Not even the man she flew halfway around the globe for, apparently.
I fumble with my keys until I realize I probably shouldn’t be driving. Cursing, I quickly send a text to my driver. He answers within seconds. All I have to do is wait. I head around the corner, away from the string of people lining up to get it and lean against the brick wall.
The universe must fucking hate me. I thought I finally had it good. I was free from my father, finally a part of this damn world I’d spent half my life pining for, and now it’s getting all fucked up. First, the Russians attack, then this asinine plan to marry me off to a shrew of a woman. And now Blair’s clawed her way back up from hell?
Fuck this shit.
My phone goes off, breaking through my thoughts. I glare down at the screen until the name comes into focus. Smirking, I let it ring a few times before finally answering. “Ah,tesorina, just the person I wanted to hear from.”
I can hear her huff at the other end of the line, which only makes me more amused. “I want to invite you over tomorrow. For dinner.”
“Did your father and Sienna plan this?” I ask, frowning. “I didn’t realize we’d scheduled another act so soon.”
“No. It’s not public. I planned it.” She pauses as if debating her next words. “To get to know you better.”
I’m laughing before I realize she’s serious. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.” She sounds angry now. “Just—Never mind. I thought we could put all this shit behind us, but I guess not.”
“No, wait.” Now I feel like an ass. She’s just trying to survive this ordeal as much as I am. Besides, who am I to turn down free food? “I’ll be there.”
“Fine,” she snaps. “I’ll just text you the address.”
“Wait—How’d you even get my number?” I cross my ankles, hand stuffed into my jeans pocket as I watch the cars go by on the main road.
“Your sister gave it to me. We’re about to be married, Killian. You shouldn’t be surprised that your fiancée has your number. Seven tomorrow evening. Don’t be late.” She hangs up before I can even reply.
I stare down at my phone, unable to pick through the tangle of emotions right now. I honestly can’t tell if this is real or if she’s trying to pull one over on me, but my head’s too messed up to deal with it at the moment. Fuck it. If Cara wants to get to know me over dinner, then I’ll happily oblige.
I’m just not sure she’s going to like what she sees.
12
CARA
I’ve been waiting exactly twenty-three minutes, and Killian has yet to show up. The restaurant I picked is one of my favorites; a quaint seafood place at the edge of the river. My usual table was prepared for me by the time I showed up—on time, I might add.
