Page 302 of Sin Bin

Chapter Forty-Five

MEADOW

“What’s wrong?”

Meadow turned her head on the pillow to see her aunt hovering in her bedroom doorway, watching her with a concerned expression. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to confirm my suspicion that you’re not just jet-lagged. You’ve been staring at the ceiling for three whole minutes. Something’s eating away at you.”

Meadow could feel tears threatening. She was so tired of crying. She’d cried on the flight back home. Cried on the way to her aunt’s house. Cried as soon as she reached the privacy of her room. The clammy wetness of her pillow suggested she’d even cried in her sleep.

She didn’t think she had any tears left. Yet there they were, welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision.

Rosalie eyed her worriedly. “I know you’re probably not hungry, but I ordered pizza for dinner. It’ll be there whenever you feel up to eating.”

Meadow nodded. The thought of putting food in her mouth turned her stomach.

Rosalie walked into the room and sat at the foot of the bed, gently searching her face. “Are you ready to talk?”

Meadow sniffled and turned to stare out the window. It was a dreary evening with low clouds of drizzling rain. The crappy weather matched her mood.

“Canadian media outlets have been buzzing with the news that Lucien Brassard is Logan’s father. Apparently he made the big announcement at the party last night.” Rosalie stared at Meadow. “Is it true? Did he really out himself like that?”

Meadow nodded grimly. “It was a shitshow. Logan was totally blindsided.”

“I can imagine,” Rosalie said sympathetically. “As if his father hasn’t put him through enough.”

Meadow didn’t want to feel sorry for Logan, but it was hard not to. Still, it didn’t absolve him of what he’d done to her.

“I wonder what possessed a man of Lucien Brassard’s stature to air his dirty laundry like that,” Rosalie speculated. “It all sounds so dramatic and soap-opera-ish. His guests must have been scandalized.”

“You could say that,” Meadow mumbled.

“Well, no video has surfaced so far, which isn’t terribly surprising. These billionaires are an insular group and they tend to abide by a code: What happens at the country club, stays at the country club. I could be wrong, but experience tells me that the story was probably leaked by one of the waitstaff—the ‘anonymous source’ quoted in every article I’ve read. I’m sure he or she was paid a pretty sum for betraying Lucien’s confidence.”

Meadow let out a disgusted snort. “I’m not shedding any tears for Lucien. He’s deplorable. He doesn’t deserve anyone’s loyalty.”

“You won’t get any argument from me.” Rosalie’s voice softened. “So what happened between you and Logan?”

Sharp pain speared Meadow’s heart. Staring out at the falling rain, she whispered, “We broke up.”

“Why? What happened?”

Meadow swallowed tightly and shook her head. She didn’t want to rehash everything. Her emotions were still too raw, and she knew she’d only end up sobbing once she started talking.

Her aunt gently touched her leg. “I’m worried about you. Please talk to me.”

After a long moment, Meadow sat up slowly and leaned back against the headboard, swallowing several times before trying to speak. “Logan was rightfully upset about his father’s speech. So upset that he walked out in the middle of it. I knew he was hurting and I didn’t want him to be alone. So I went looking for him. I didn’t know where he might have gone. The yacht was huge and he wasn’t answering my texts. So I asked his father to help me find him. His wife, coincidentally, was also missing,” she added bitterly.

Rosalie stared at her. She knew what was coming next. “Where did you find him?”

“In the underwater lounge with his stepmother.” Searing pain surged and twisted in her gut. “She was sitting on his lap, and God only knows what they were doing before we walked in on them.”

“That son of a bitch,” Rosalie hissed.

Meadow squeezed her eyes shut, but she couldn’t get the image out of her mind of Chantal straddling Logan on the couch, her black dress pooling around them. What would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted? How far would they have gone? All the way?

Just the thought of it made her feel violently ill.

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