Page 32 of Getting Lucky in London

I attempted a faint smile, wiped my face, and blew my nose into the soggy tissue the driver had given me.

“Then why are you crying?” He folded his arms across his chest. “What did the bastard do?”

“He didn’t do anything. I did. I screwed up. I lied to him.”

“What did you lie about?”

“Everything.” Another fucking sob stuck in my throat.

“Okay, start at the beginning.”

I sighed. “I ended up going to the art exhibit after all.”

I went on to explain how I met someone at the art exhibit, about losing his keys, how he helped me get to my interview, and that I’d fallen head over ass in love. I omitted a few details, like what I lied about, the intimacy we’d shared, and Michael’s name. Telling Dominic who he was would only jeopardize their friendship, and I couldn’t live with that.

By the time I’d finished the story, I was blubbering again.

Gathering me in his arms, Dominic held me tight, rocking me, soothing me with nonsensical assurances that it would all be okay. It wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. Not for a while, anyway.

When I’d exhausted myself into silence, he drew his head back to look at me. “If it makes you feel any better, I screwed up, too. Sarah and I had a fight, and I left.”

“You left her there alone with her father at death’s door?” I pushed at his chest and his arms fell away. “It must have been one hell of a fight.”

“It was.” Now, it was his turn to stare out the window, and all I could think was that he might have been emotionally absent for Sarah because he’d been so preoccupied with worry when I didn’t answer my phone.

“What did you fight about?”Please don’t say me.

He flopped back on the sofa and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands. “Fuck, I don’t even remember.”

“You don’t remember what the fight was about, or you don’t want to face the real reason you fought?”

“It was…” He got up to pace. “It was stupid and”—he smacked his chest hard—“and all about me and my insecurities.”

I nodded. This I could understand. Abandonment and neglect had done a number on both of us.

“It just seemed that as soon as we got to South Africa, she didn’t need me anymore. I tried to be supportive, but I…” His tanned cheeks flared red, and he stopped pacing to look at his feet. “I felt useless and in the way.”

“I’m sure you weren’t. If I know anything about you, it’s that you always put others above yourself.”

“I was so used to having her all to myself. I was…jealous.” He waved aside the words about to spill from my mouth. “I know, it’s ridiculous, and I’m ashamed to say it. I talked her into going down to the cafeteria to eat, and on the elevator ride down, I made the mistake of suggesting we go to her parents’ house to get some rest. But in my defense, she was dead on her feet. She hadn’t left the hospital in two days.”

“You were thinking of her.”

“I was, but…I don’t know. Maybe because I was holding her in the elevator when I suggested it and she felt my… Fuck, I can’t help it if I get hard every time I touch her.”

Hands over my ears, I sang, “Lalalalalalala.”

Dominic laughed, and his mood seemed lighter. “Anyway, she accused me of trying to get her alone for sex, which I wasn’t, and that led to an argument. She told me to leave, so I did. Then all I could think about on the flight home was whether she actually made it to the cafeteria to eat.”

“Yep, you’re a real ass.”

“I know.”

“I’m kidding.” I shook my head. “Dominic, it was probably her fear and uncertainty about her father’s condition that caused her to lash out.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I realized that after I calmed down.”

“So why are you still here?”

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