Page 36 of Too Good to be True

"She doesn't know, does she?" Ian asks, rubbing his chin, an evil smile playing on his lips. "Bailey has no idea who you really are."

"TJ!" The woman calls again. This time, I look at her. I take a good, long look, soaking in every detail. Long, never-ending legs. Blonde hair that looks like it's been spun from gold. Big blue eyes. Slight, thin frame. Makeup that looks like it's been airbrushed on. She looks familiar, but I can’t place her.

"Siena," Tim whispers her name and shakes his head. He looks over at me. His eyes are full of emotion. Sad, overwhelming emotion.

"I come all this way,” she fans her hands at her face as if she’s overwhelmed with emotion. “To work on our relationship, and for what?"

Her words are spoken so emphatically, so dramatically. What I really want to know is, who the hell is she? I replay what she just said. It hits me. Relationship. She just used the R-word.

"TJ?" She sniffles. Her voice cracks. I'm certain the waterworks are going to start any second.

He nibbles on his bottom lip. The worry lines are etched thick in his forehead again. He looks at the beautiful woman wearing regret on his face. "I'm sorry."

He's sorry. He's fucking sorry! He hasn't even looked at me since she spoke his name. I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, kicked across the floor, and stomped on.

She steps up toe to toe with him, wipes at her eyes, and crosses her arms over her chest. "Who are these people, TJ? I thought you were here working. Who is this woman?" She demands like a jealous girlfriend, her arm gesturing in my direction.

I don't wait to hear his answer or explanation. I don't want to hear that I'm a mistake. Or worse, I'm no one and mean nothing to him. Because how could I be anything more than a good time? I turn and run off with the photographers and reporters calling after me. I ignore them all as I jump into an elevator and head back to my room. Alone.

Chapter 13

Ithrow myself on thebed. Tears pour out of my eyes. I don't try to stop them. My body shakes as I sob. I fell for him. I knew I shouldn't, but I did, and this hurts like hell. Finding out that he is nothing but a womanizing, cheating jackass hurts more than when Corey broke up with me.

It shouldn't. But it does.

I hate him. I. Fucking. Hate. Tim!

So why do I desperately hope he’ll call to explain, to just acknowledge I exist? He doesn't. Hours pass. My phone doesn't ring. There's no knock on my door.

Somehow, I find the strength to undress. I don't put on the cute pajamas I wore when Tim stayed over. They remind me of him. I want to forget him. Forget everything about him, but it’s impossible. Being here in this city, in this room,everythingreminds me of Tim.

I throw my clothes into my suitcase. I need to get the hell out of here. I need to forget all about the man who stole the last bit of self-worth I held in my heart.

My flight doesn't leave for hours, but I need to get out of this hotel. I call down to the front desk and ask them to get a car for me.

The concierge sends someone up with a rolling cart to help me transport my luggage. As much as I can't wait to go, I'm sad. I feel like I'm leaving a chunk of me behind.

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