Page 81 of His Temptation
“Thank you, dear. Goodbye.”
I put the phone down as my heart starts pounding against my chest. There’s no way he could be seeing someone else. Right? I mean, did we ever truly iron out that we were exclusive and actually dating? I thought we did, but now I’m beginning to second-guess myself.
I think back to all the photos I’ve seen of him on dates and going to events with supermodels when I googled him. He does havea reputation for getting around and never settling down. Why would he be any different with me?
Nausea settles in my stomach as I think about how reluctant he is to get close with me, to talk to me about his past. Maybe that’s his way of telling me that I’m pushing for something he doesn’t want. Doubt clouds my mind as I see the light go off, letting me know that he is off the phone. I grab the Post-it Note with the woman’s name and stand up on shaky legs.
Well, if it was a date, I’m sure I’ll see a look of guilt and regret on his face when he knows he’s been caught.
When I walk in, I find him by the window, looking out at the city thoughtfully. He must sense my presence because he turns around.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hi,” I reply. I hold up the yellow paper. “Someone named Tricia Stanford called. She said she wanted to thank you for dinner last night.”
“Ah,” he replies coolly.
I study his face to see if I sense any guilt or fear, but it remains neutral.
“Can you send flowers to her?” he requests.
I almost drop the note to the ground. A horrifying shudder runs through me. Part of me wonders if I heard him correctly, that maybe I should ask for him to repeat himself, but I know what I heard.
“Oh, um, you want me to send her flowers for you. I can do that.”
“Thank you.” He walks back toward his desk like I’m supposed to just take his request and say nothing.
I can’t move. I won’t. This is a level of cruelty that is far beyond what I thought he was capable of. Taking my virginity and playing me like I’m nothing to him.
“You’re serious right now?” I reply, my voice rough with anger.
He hesitates, blinking with confusion. “I’m sorry? Did I say something that upset you?”
I huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Let’s see. Did you say something that upset me? I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that. I asked you to go out to dinner last night, and you told me you were busy. Then the woman you’d decided to have dinner with called, and instead of trying to hide your indiscretion, you askedmeto sendherflowers.”
I take a deep breath and continue, “I should have known. I should have known that the cold, ruthless billionaire wasn’t capable of letting someone in and keeping it in his pants. All this time, I thought maybe we had something real. I thought you liked me. But turns out, you were just using me for my body. The tabloids don’t lie; you’re just a playboy looking to go from one woman to the next. I was no different.”
My body trembles as his body stiffens. He looks at me like I’ve just cut him open, like I’m the one hurting him.
“I see.” He stands up and crosses his arms across his chest. “I see you made up your mind about my character a long time ago. Apparently, if it’s printed in the papers, it must be true. And here I thought, I had someone who trusted me, who saw me for who I really was.”
I scoff at his words. “I can’t believe you’re going to throw this back on me.”
“No. Of course not. This is all on me. I went against my better judgment and considered the possibility that I could trust someone. If you don’t mind, I have some phone calls to make.”
He dismisses me like I’m not worth another minute of his time. I turn around completely and start to walk out of his office. I have no idea how I’m going to recover from this. I feel manipulated and used.
“Oh, one more thing,” his cold voice states.
I don’t turn around to face him.
“Tricia is my client’s wife. My client who was there with us last night. She called me to thank me because, last night, she revealed she had cancer. One of my friends is the top oncologist in the city, so I gave her his contact information. The flowers are to express my sympathy for the road she has ahead of her. Sign the card,From the ruthless playboy billionaire. That seems to be who I am to you.”
I swallow the despair in my throat. Too stunned and sickened to reply, I continue out of the office, then sink down into my seat. My heart squeezes in anguish as I process what just happened. He certainly just took my accusations and threw them back at me, accusing me of being the one with trust issues.
Is that true? I don’t even know where to begin to dissect this. It all happened so fast and with such poor timing. I had already been struggling with how much he had pushed me away and kept me at arm’s length since his mother had begun calling, even going as far as snapping at me for being concerned. For Triciato call at that very moment, with all my doubts and insecurities bubbling at the surface, was unfortunate timing.
The realization that I might have lost my job hits me. There’s no way he can find it in his heart to forgive me. Not with the look I saw on his face before I left. The anger and resentment, the disbelief. I need to do something. I need to go in there and apologize. I need to beg to keep my job.
