Page 60 of Playing Dirty
Lilly:We need to talk. Lunch?
No emoji. No rambling opener. Just a direct, sharp little line of text that cut through my easy mood. My stomach tightened—the way it does when you know the conversation isn’t going to be small talk.
Rhett poured himself another cup, his eyes sliding toward me over the rim. “Something wrong?”
“Not sure yet.” I thumbed the screen dark, trying to keep my tone light. “Lilly wants to meet for lunch.”
“Want me to come?”
I shook my head, forcing a smile I didn’t fully feel. “Better if it’s just us. Probably nothing—she just sounded… I don’t know… off.”
His brows drew together, just enough for me to see the protective streak under the easy cowboy veneer. “Alright,” he said after a beat. “But you’ll tell me if it’s something, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I drained the last of my coffee, but it didn’t taste as rich now. Somewhere between that text and his frown, the peace of the morning had slipped through my fingers like it had never been there at all.
The bell over the café door gave a soft jingle as I stepped inside, the scent of brewed coffee and something buttery wrapping around me like a hug I didn’t quite deserve. Lilly was already tucked into a corner booth; her coat draped over the seat beside her, and a half-finished iced tea was sweating on thetable. She looked up the second I walked in, her expression tight enough to make my chest pinch.
“Hey, stranger.” I slid into the booth across from her, setting my purse down beside me. “What’s going on?”
She didn’t ease into it. “I went to drop off an order this morning—some fresh arrangements for the flower cart—and ran into Matt.”
Just like that, my shoulders tensed. “And?”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line, the kind she got when she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes so hard it hurt. “And he told me he’d fired you.”
I blinked at her. “Fired me?”
“Yeah. Said it real casual, like he was just doing you some kind of favor.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “He made it sound like your relationship had been holding him back professionally, Callie. Like you were the one calling the shots.”
Heat crawled up my neck, settling in my cheeks. The thought of him spinning that story through Lovelace made my stomach churn. “Of course he did.”
Lilly hesitated, her eyes narrowing in that way she got when she was weighing whether to keep going. “That’s not all. Did Rhett tell you about the receipt for daisies I mentioned to Tessa?”
I nodded, the memory sharp. “Rhett said Matt had ordered daisies a while back that matched his address in Casper. No doubt they were for his wife.”
“Well,” Lilly continued, “he ordered the same daisies again this morning. Sent to the same address.”
I sat back, my nails tapping against the tabletop. “So, he’s… what? Keeping up appearances with her while playing the victim here?”
Her shrug was small, but the look in her eyes told me she’d been thinking the same thing.
Outside, his truck rumbled past, shaking the window glass, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Matt’s web of lies was starting to stretch too thin to hold.
Lilly stirred her tea with the plastic straw, the ice clinking softly against the glass. “Honestly, I think he’s just being spiteful,” she said, like that should make me feel better. “Trying to save face after you walked out.”
“Maybe.” I traced the edge of my napkin, the paper catching under my fingertip. Out loud, I could keep it light. Inside, it felt heavier, more complicated. Matt wasn’t just slinging mud for fun—he was setting the stage. Buying himself time.
I let out a short laugh that sounded more bitter than amused. “He’s got some nerve, though. Playing the wounded hero while keeping his wife stocked in flowers and still hanging around town like he’s some big shot at the store.”
“You don’t know that’s what he’s doing.”
“Don’t I?” I met her eyes, letting the quiet hang between us until she looked away. The truth was, I hated how easy it was to imagine him pulling it off. Matt could make the worst choices look polished if he wanted to.
Lilly reached across the table, her fingers brushing mine. “You’ll come out of this fine. People love you.”
“That won’t stop the gossip.” I forced a smile, but my throat felt tight. In a town like Lovelace, gossip wasn’t just background noise—it was the soundtrack. And if Matt had his way, I’d be the hit song.
