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The logical next step was to open her first brick-and-mortar store. She’d leased the perfect space in Bellevue and had hired a general contractor to make the renovations. She was supposed to meet with the interior designer next week to pick out wallpaper and open the last week in February. She’d wanted to open on Valentine’s Day, but the pink circle banquette wouldn’t arrive until the twenty-fourth.
She’d gone on the Today show in a last-bid effort to save Yum Yum’s Closet and perhaps redeem herself. Neither of those things would happen now. She would forever be cast as a reality show villain. Like Spencer Pratt and Courtney Robertson. Even if she could redeem herself, it wouldn’t happen in time to save Yum Yum’s Closet. She had ten full- and part-time employees, and that number didn’t include her Web designer or the people who worked for the small-batch manufacturer.
It took her a few short minutes to reach her apartment building. The sidewalk outside was reporter-free, and she easily drove through the gates of her parking garage and pulled to a stop in her designated slot.
In a fog of pain, she rode the elevator to the top floor. The doors opened into a condo surrounded with ten-foot panes of glass, insulated to keep the weather out while letting in the sluggish sunlight to spill across lush white rug and gleaming parquet floors. She stepped out of her sensible pumps and left a trail of clothing on the way to her bedroom. She hit a button just inside the room, and shades lowered from the ceiling to cover the windows. By degrees, the room was pitched into varying shades of deeper gray, and Lexie crawled into her bed and pulled the chintz comforter to her chin. She stayed there all day and only emerged from bed when her dad brought Yum Yum to her later that night.
“Here’s your worthless dog,” he said as she finished tying the belt of her terry-cloth robe. The dog gave him a big lick across his lips. “Jesus!”
“She loves Papa.”
“I’m not her papa.”
After a brief conversation about what a “tool” Pete was, and the pros and cons of Chinook enforcer Kevin “KO” Olsen meeting Pete after his return from Acapulco, Lexie took her dog and headed back to bed. She couldn’t help but replay the last few days in her head. She’d made one bad decision after another. She’d hurled herself and her business into a total free fall. This morning, she’d landed with a big splat on national television.
So much had happened since the night she’d run from the Fairmont, it seemed like five weeks had passed instead of just five days. It had only been five days since she’d jumped aboard the Sea Hopper and stared up into Sean Brown’s dark face and the question in his green eyes. Two days since she’d pulled him into a small hotel room and stripped naked. Just two days since she’d sworn like a porn star/hockey player during unforgettable sex. Two nights later, her cheeks burned with the memory.
There was one thing that made her feel the tiniest bit better, and that was she wouldn’t ever have to see Sean Brown again. A few days ago she’d thought it might be nice to see him and show him the real Lexie. Well, the real Lexie had sunk to the lowest point in her life. She had little hope that things would get better, and the last thing she needed was further humiliation.
To her shock, the next afternoon Lucy Broderick called and threw her an unexpected lifeline. Her appearance on the Today show hadn’t been a total disaster after all. The response had been the opposite of what Lexie had feared—she’d somehow managed to appear sympathetic, while Pete’s attack had come off as bullying. The fake and real tears she’d shed had made her seem vulnerable and despondent, filled with agonizing remorse for what she’d done to Pete and the fans of Gettin’ Hitched. Pete had sounded belligerent to the very end. Viewer opinion was shifting against him.
Lexie knew she should feel bad, but she didn’t feel the least bit sorry for Pete. He’d done it to himself.
Three days after the Today show, the tide was definitely turning in her favor. She did a short call-in interview with Extra and was scheduled to tell her side of the story for Us magazine next week.
The world didn’t hate her. Even Gawker and PopSugar seemed to be finished crucifying her. Her business wasn’t totally dead after all. Yum Yum’s Closet had been resuscitated and put back on life support. With hard work, she expected it to make a full recovery.
That was until the moment Marie walked into her apartment and slapped the National Enquirer on the table between them. Lexie drank a sip of coffee and moved aside her plate of cantaloupe and a bagel. “What’s this?” She slid the paper to her and choked. Hot coffee slid down the wrong pipe and her heart stopped.
“Wha—wha?” she wheezed. On the front cover was the headline: Hitchin’ Bride Jilts Groom for Mystery Man. A picture of her pinned up against the door of room seven at the Harbor Inn took up the entire page. The quality was a bit grainy, but even if she hadn’t known it was she, even if she hadn’t lived it, even if her eyes weren’t blurry from hacking, she was clearly recognizable.
“Who is that?” Marie asked.
Lexie cleared her throat and coughed a few more times, unable to take her eyes from the picture of her pushed up against a hotel door. While her face was clearly visible, Sean’s back was to the camera. The only visible parts of him were his hands, wrapped around her wrists and pinning them above her head. “Sean,” she choked out. The man with beautiful green eyes and dark hair, who’d felt like the only steady thing in an upside-down world. The man whose kiss made her warm up from the inside out and throw caution to the wind—along with her clothing.
“Sean who?”
“Brown.” At least that was his mother’s last name. She didn’t know for sure, but decided not to confide in her friend, who was acting a little judgmental.
“You look like you were either kidnapped or about to jump this guy’s bones.”
Lexie cleared her throat once more. “You know I wasn’t kidnapped.”
“So you hooked up with some random Canadian?”
“It wasn’t like that.” She looked across the table at her friend, who trolled Tinder. “He was on the plane with me. I was scared and freaked. He took my mind off everything for a while.”
“It looks bad.”
“I know!”
After Marie left, she checked the online gossip sites. They all had the same picture of her. The caption at TMZ read: Runaway Bride or Seductress?
“It wasn’t like that,” she told her mother that evening. “I helped him take care of his sick mother while we were in Sandspit. I didn’t seduce anyone!”
Georgeanne looked across the couch from her and said, “I’m sorry about his mother, but I just really care about you.” She shook her head, and her dark hair slid across one shoulder to the front of her red silk blouse. “Cryin’ all night, Lexie. I can’t believe it. This just keeps getting worse.”
“I know. Someone leaked my phone number.” She blinked back the tears stinging her eyes, hating the disappointment in her mother’s face. “I had to turn it off for a while. I really can’t change the number until I notify all my business contacts.” Thank God she still had her prepaid phone from Sandspit.
