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I was stunned. He was talking to me like I was a servant, or a staff member like he probably had at home. Like I was someone who had to be dealt with, handled. I got my things and got out of there. But I was heartbroken. After a few days, when my anger and hurt pride had subsided, I found myself feeling confused. I had loved Matthew and I couldn’t believe he would treat me this badly. He hadn’t even given me a chance to explain anything. He would not pick up my calls or answer my texts. It was like I had ceased to exist to him.
I struggled with that. I couldn’t just switch my feelings off and on like that. I couldn’t believe that after our year together, he could move on just like that.
“Are you coming in?” My mom was calling me from a window. Seeing her face cheered me up. She’d always been able to do that. I may never have told her about how much Matthew had meant to me and how badly the break-up had affected me, but she knew something was up. Tomato soup was one of my favorite meals, a comfort food that she used to make when I was in high school after a bad day. She had a spicy Thai recipe, with red chili paste and coconut milk, extra mushrooms, and peppers.
I thought about the whole drama around the Freezas lolly, a healthy fruit treat. The kid who’d had an asthma attack, turned out to have accidentally eaten a cookie with peanuts in it at his school that day. His reaction had nothing to do with the lolly. After the comms department sent out a press release, I had a box of Freezas sent over to the boy’s house and asked them to take pics of him eating the lolly. We then posted these on social media as damage control. It seemed to have worked. Other people posted pics of them eating their lollies, and it trended for a while. We got some good press and Diaz had been pleased with me. I hoped Matthew heard about it as well. But I had a feeling that would not make a difference. The last time he’d spoken to me, there had been a nastiness that reminded me of the last time I’d seen him in college.
A shiver ran down my spine.
The talk of me owing him and having to work hard not to disappoint him? I didn’t like that. Even though he was as handsome as he’d been in college, there was something else there too. A hardness in his eyes, in his voice, that I did not remember. He was not the kind of guy you wanted as an enemy. Certainly, not me. I had an uneasy feeling about his last words to me earlier in the week, as if he intended to give me a hard time because I’d blown him off. Had he really expected me to fall into his arms, though?
Matthew Waterstone was a complicated man, I knew that. I had known that even in college, although back then, I was happy to think that his difficult side had to do with his family. When we were together, it could be just us. But it had never really been just us, I thought now. There had always been other people, other expectations, and pressures on our relationship. Warning signs I didn’t want to see. I was a happy-go-lucky type of girl, someone who preferred to think happy thoughts and be positive. If I didn’t pay attention to his bad traits, they weren’t there. Something like that. I had been quite a bit younger then, more naïve. Even though I didn’t want to admit it, Matthew Waterstone had broken my heart when he dumped me. I did not date anyone for a long time after that, spending the next year practicing tennis like I was preparing for the US Open. When I hurt my knee at the end of the next year, I had to quit the team and focused on my studies. I kept myself busy and my mind occupied. Slowly, my heart mended. But there was a weakness there and I needed to be careful now.
Especially around Matthew.
As I got up and went inside, I felt a bit of a chill for the first time that day.
Chapter 4
Matthew
The party at the Gillespie residence in Park Avenue was a formal affair. Our families had known each other for years and I’d grown up with Kyle, the youngest son. He’d come back from London recently and this was a welcoming party by his parents. It was known widely that Kyle had attended rehab and then some sort of retreat in Scotland, but that was not how his family described his time away. They referred to his “traveling”. From my mother, I knew that Kyle’s parents were hoping he’d step into the family business again.
“How long do we have to stay?” my girlfriend, Taya asked me, her lips barely moving. “I’ve had a terrible headache all day.”
She was looking gorgeous, as usual. She was always one of the most striking women in any room. Apart from her height and incredible figure and bone structure, she had a certain bearing that separated her from most women. She’d grown up in an extremely wealthy family, the daughter of a hedge fund manager. She had only known privilege and comfort her entire life, so she knew how to play the game, appearances had to be kept up no matter how big the hangover was.
“Big lunch?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
I was rewarded with a small smile, barely perceptible to anyone else. “I wouldn’t say, enormous, but yes, rather larger than usual.”
“Anyone interesting?”
I wasn’t really expecting her to tell me. I was making conversation, trying to pass time.
“Just the girls.”
I nodded.
“I was thinking of going to France in the summer.”
“Oh?”
“A few weeks probably.”
Taya’s parents owned a mansion in Provence. She liked to combine holidays there with shopping in Paris.
“Want to come?” She glanced at me, ever so casually.
“Sounds fab. It will depend on my schedule, though,” I said, even though I couldn’t really see myself taking off two weeks from work to lie in the sun. I had a feeling she knew I wouldn’t come but felt she needed to ask.
“Waterstone! Thanks for coming!” It was Kyle, joining us. He put an arm around my shoulder, gave it a warm squeeze. Taya moved away to give us some time to talk.
“How’re you doing?” I asked. Kyle looked well. He’d picked up a bit of weight since the last time I’d seen him, and his face had a healthy glow.
“Better,” he winked at me.
Kyle and I had been at the same boarding school years ago and one night, getting high on some weed that one of our friends had smuggled in, he’d admitted to me that the pressure of the Gillespie name and family was too much for him. He didn’t want to go into the automobile business and couldn’t see himself working in an office all day.
