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“I assure you, nothing is going on between us. I don’t know what you think you’re seeing, but Jillian and I have been done for years. She’s engaged to Stuart, and I respect that,” I lied my ever-loving face right off. But it wasn’t like they could prove anything.
And I absolutely wouldn’t touch Jillian ever again, so it really didn’t matter anymore.
If Jillian chose not to tell her fiancé that she’d been dicking around on him—that was her decision. Not mine.
“I see,” Angelique said in a rather unconvincing tone. Her head turned to Jillian. “Is this true? Are you and Cash not involved?”
Jillian’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No, no, not at all.”
Angelique’s lips pursed together for a moment before she spoke again. “Your disagreements in the parking lots,” she peered at Marcel and then at me, “they look to me like a lover’s quarrel.”
I cleared my throat. “No, there’s nothing going on.” I looked at Jillian. “And there never will be.”
Marcel spoke next and he frowned at me, “Cash, you were more than just upset with Jillian. There has to be something else there, non?”
I shook my head again. “No.”
Marcel sighed and sat back in the couch. “All right, then. If there’s nothing going on between you, two, then we need to decide how to go forward. And save your réputations.”
8
Cash
Unfuckingbelievable. She takes my dick for a ride—and I’m the one who has to apologize.
Fuck.
Me.
How fair was this bullshit?
Zero percent fair.
But, this is what the owners wanted—or more like ordered.
And that wasn’t all.
Nope.
We had to become friends.
Friends.
Me and Jillian.
Fucking friends.
Complete bullshit.
Marcel and Angelique said it was the only way to repair my rep.
I mean, yeah, okay.
I had acted like a total dick to Jillian in the parking lots.
But I had a fucking reason to act that way.
A reason that I couldn’t tell one other soul in the world about.
