While I’d had my suspicions about Frankie’s intentions with Fred, seeing Frankie with another guy was a complete shock. But nothing could have been more surprising than Barrett’s reaction to the situation. The fact that he already knew, and had no plans to tell Fred is unbelievable.
How could Barrett value the acquisition deal with Voltaire over Fred’s feelings? It makes me think I don’t know him at all.
My mind is a jumbled mess of thoughts so I keep walking, trying to make sense of what just happened. I end up walking the two miles to my apartment.
Inside, I collapse onto my bed. The fresh paint smell still hangs in the air. I haven’t been back here since the day I picked my bridesmaid dress up and discovered the apartment building had been redone. Another thing Barrett chose to keep from me.
I lie there and cry until my head hurts. Until my eyes can’t produce any more tears and the searing pain in my chest has become a dull ache. I fall asleep, hoping that eventually I’ll wake up from this bad dream.
The next morning, my eyes are red and puffy and no amount of coffee can keep them open. I call JoAnna to tell her I’m not feeling well. I doubt that Barrett would have told her what happened between us. He’ll want to keep everything quiet until his deal is signed.
I text Rose about packing up my things. She responds right away and with no questions asked, has Marcus deliver my personal items from Barrett’s place in an hour. I’m grateful because while I don’t mind wallowing in self-pity right now, I’d like to do that with breath that isn’t repugnant. Also, my tears have been replenished and I can’t stop crying long enough to leave my apartment to purchase a new toothbrush.
At some point the tears have to stop, right? I’m praying for dehydration.
Barrett calls and I let it go to voicemail. I stop myself from listening to his message.
I can’t hear the sound of his voice or I’ll start crying again. Start asking myself how I fell so hard for a man that doesn’t believe people are more important than adding more money to his company’s portfolio.
I force myself to go to work on Tuesday. I have to tell JoAnna about Lauren’s party. My fake relationship with Barrett. Everything. It won’t make what I’ve done right, but at least she’ll have all the facts and can decide for herself.
I know I’m potentially blowing up my career, but I realize I’ll always be worried that she could find out. If I’m going to advance in my career, I want to do it with a clear conscience.
JoAnna knows there’s something wrong the moment she sees me in the doorway to her office.
“Chloe, come in. Are you okay?”
“Um.” I falter with how to start the conversation.
“If you’re still not feeling well, you should’ve stayed home.”
Maybe I could take the easy way out? Buy myself another day? It’s tempting, but I know I need to clear this up.
I take a breath and tell her everything. The party. The arrangement with Barrett. How I developed real feelings for him and how we were dating for real until Sunday when we broke up. I think we broke up. I’m a thousand percent certain that the ache in my chest is from a broken heart.
JoAnna pats my hand, a kind smile on her face. “I know.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Not about the party, but now it makes sense. I thought it was interesting that you and Barrett were dating out of the blue and the kiss you shared the morning you told me—if I’ve ever seen a first kiss, that’s what one looks like. Hesitant. Unsure. Captivated. I wasn’t sure what was going on between you two but I wanted it to play out. Honestly, I liked the idea of you two together. I still do.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“You did the right thing taking a stand for what is right. Barrett is a hard man to stand up to. Like his father before him, he’s got great ambition and sometimes—most times—he can’t see past it. But I know he was different with you. He wants to be different.”
I nod. It’s all I can do. Talking about Barrett sends a fresh wave of emotion over me. The tears are threatening again.
“I’m so sorry about the party. I was afraid to tell you. I didn’t plan it. I needed a place for my friend’s party when I failed to confirm my reservation at Le Pavillon and they gave the booking to another group. Then you called and asked me to go to your apartment to bring up the misdelivered books and I just stayed. I didn’t think you would find out. I know that sounds bad. I love my job. I love that you’ve given me the opportunity take on Lacey’s assistant editor position so early in my career. I want to be an assistant editor. I know I’ve got more to prove. I just hope I haven’t screwed up my chance to do that here at St. Clair Press.”