Page 68 of Final Serenade

“I don’t have anything against Dante. As a matter of fact, I think he’s one of the best guitar players hard rock has ever seen, but you’re willing to work with him, even after you watched him fuck your wife?”

“Things are a bit more complicated than that when not only does your and your family’s fame and fortune depend on this conglomerate you created with your friend years ago, but you also owe a bunch of albums to one of the biggest record labels in the world, Cassy.” He sounded broken and condescending.

“It’s very sexist. Just because he’s a guy doesn’t mean it wasn’t his fault. He’s to blame as much as she is.”

“You’re taking my cheating wife’s side now?”

“No. But if you cut her loose, you should have cut him loose too. I would’ve.”

“Oh, really? And what makes you an expert?”

I didn’t like the tone of his voice and I didn’t like where this conversation was going. From scorching hot sex to double standards in less than an hour. My pulse jumped. Angry, I slid from the couch. “You know what? No one made me an expert, but it sounds to me like you’re putting all the blame on a woman merely because she’s a woman.”

“Cassy?” Frank shifted but didn’t make an effort to get up. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“I believe I need a little break from your pity party.”

My mind was a messy place to be as I rushed to the bathroom. I hadn’t asked him for his life story. The man was so bitter and insecure, it depressed me.

Minutes passed while I sat on the edge of the hot tub and absently stared at the tiled wall.

“Cassy?” He said after a while. “Can you come out please?”

“I’m not done being mad.” Although he couldn’t see me, I rolled my eyes.

“Come on. This is silly.”

“Exactly. It’s silly for you to think I have someone else on the side when I’m ripping myself apart to satisfy your strange after-hour rides and dinner cravings.”

There was a long pause. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Can you come out now?”

“I’m still mad.”

I sulked a little longer to see if I could get another reaction from him, but he was quiet.

Deafening silence welcomed me as I stepped out of the bathroom.

“Frank?” I called on my way downstairs.

No response. He was gone.

I woke to the mattress dipping under the weight of Frank’s body as he slipped under the blanket. His gentle breath stroked the back of my head, his cold hands ducked under my shirt. “I’m sorry, Cassy.”

My heart felt restless and heavy in my chest. I wasn’t sure whether to continue pretending to be asleep or to pick up where we’d left off earlier. The man’s behavior bothered me. He’d taken off without a word and didn’t care to, at the very least, grab his phone. I’d waited for him for hours until exhaustion finally knocked me down.

Frank pressed a kiss to my shoulder, his scent wrapping me into a bubble of strange need.

“You said you’d call or text if you had to leave.” My voice sounded small. “You didn’t.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t just disappear, Frank. Especially not in the middle of a fucking snowstorm.” The snowstorm was an exaggeration obviously.

“You really like to blow things out of proportion, huh?” He laughed against my shoulder blade and traced the lines of my butterfly with his tongue. Shivers zipped down my spine and I melted into his firm body. He was so easy to forgive.

“So do you, Frank.”

“Doll”—he pulled me against him—“I’ve never been in a relationship with a woman who wasn’t some kind of a high profile public figure. I don’t know what the rules are.”

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