Page 92 of Tempt Me

“Dozens of memes. I made one myself, trying to spin it as a girl-power kind of thing. But the haters are louder.”

Effortlessly, she pulled into a prime parking spot in front of a small gelato shop.

With a hand on her arm, I stopped her from getting out. “How’s she doing?”

“Not great.” Leaning back, she scanned my face. “She’s obsessed with finding a new partner and turning this around. She hardly talks to anyone but Rhiannon.”

“What about Winslow?” I asked.

“He hasn’t been around so much. Apparently, his divorce just got finalized. He’s been scrambling to liquidate his assets. I heard he refused to let his ex have any of his Jamilow stock or options.”

“That’s…that’s loyal of him.” I choked on the wordloyal.Five days ago, I’d accused him of disloyalty, and I still believed it to my core. But I was the only one.

“I guess. Now, let’s go. You need some fat and sugar.”

We exited the car and went into the shop. On a Tuesday afternoon in tourist season, it was crowded.

Hannah picked up our conversation from earlier. “I’m sure Jamila would’ve understood if Winslow had to give up some shares. Billie’s a reasonable person. They’re friends. She’s already on the Jamilow board.”

“Wait. Winslow’s ex is Billie Woods?” My face went hot at the memory of my embarrassing behavior at her Christmas party.

“Isn’t that weird? Apparently, there was a scandal when he married a board member, but Jamila stood by them both. Doesn’t seem to have hurt Jamilow in the end.” Hannah stepped up to the counter and ordered a banana avocado gelato.

I asked for extra-dark chocolate with cherries. “Calories didn’t count while you’re wallowing, right?” I half-joked.

“Think of all the calories you burn tossing and turning. I bet crying uses a bunch too. Especially ugly crying. You haven’t been crying, have you?”

“No, not so much.” Crying hadn’t felt like the right reaction. I’d felt more empty than anything. When Jamila took back her trust, she scooped out the rest of me with it.

“I don’t think Jamila has ever cried in her life.” Hannah took her cup of gelato to a high-top table with metal stools. “She was one of those kids who, when she fell on the playground, really thought rubbing dirt on it made it feel better.”

I hummed and shoved a bite of gelato into my mouth. I bet she’d cried when her dad died and when her mother left and after that terrible man she’d trusted tried to bargain her innocence for private-school money. Plus that day in my brother’s office when that reporter’s hateful words had reddened her eyes. But Jamila didn’t want anyone to know about her past or her softer side. She must regret showing it to me now.

Suddenly, the gelato didn’t taste right to me. Cold and sweet were wrong. I was fire and bitterness. I didn’t want to be sitting here in this gelato shop, spooning creamy, chilled sweetness into my mouth and gossiping about people I used to work with. I wanted to fight for Jamila. Even if she didn’t love me the way I loved her.

I had to talk with Billie Woods.

I stabbed my spoon into my gelato. “Can you take me home?”

“Sure.” Hannah savored a spoonful of her dessert, rolling up her eyes.

I tapped the table, ready to move.“Now?”

“Now?” She swallowed.

“Right now. I can drive while you finish your ice cream. Please?”

Normally, I’d have finessed it. Being polite, staying out of the way, and helping from the sidelines was my comfort zone. But for Jamila, I’d burst through the barriers of acceptable behavior. I’d use every tool I had to make her hurt less.

“I guess it’s important, huh?”

“Absolutely.” I tossed my ice cream in the trash. “Let’s go.”

I foundmy mother in her favorite place in the house, the conservatory. She wore a kerchief over her blond bob and gardening gloves to repot something with long, strappy leaves. I’d never cared much for her plants. She never let me help with them.

“Hi, Mother.” I kissed her cheek.

“Back from shopping? Did you buy something nice for Charles’s birthday?”

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