Page 23 of Troubled Water
I twiddle with my mother’s wedding ring, twisting it on the chain around my neck. No one knows. Not even my closest friends, including Libby. Her southern drawl is exaggerated when she offers her opinion, “Because, bless their hearts, they’re the sons of the men Linc did business with, B.”
My face twists with a smirk. “Ahh, Libs. So tactful.”
“I try to be.”
“I don’t have time for it. I’m dating Thorn.”
“Hmm, true.” Considering Libby has known my boyfriend longer than I have, she knows what a stubborn pain in the ass he can be. Instead of taking offense to her next comment, I nod sagely when she remarks, “You must need a two-by-four to get your point across with that man.”
“I’ve generally found withholding sex to work better.” Something must show on my face because Libby buries her head in her hands, saying, “I don’t want to know.”
I redirect the conversation. “So, what should we do?”
“About your man?” Libby jokes, causing me to subtly bristle.
It would be too much to hope Libby didn’t notice.
Eyes boring into mine, she reaches across the table for a copy of our neatly printed proposal. The project stood to earn McCallister Construction about ten million dollars in profit if we’d stayed on schedule. Deja Vu would have earned double that. As cool as she can be, Libby tears the proposal in half.
My jaw hits the floor, as do the rest of the members of the deal team who spent countless hours working on the bids. I shout, “Are you out of your mind, Libs?”
She angles her chin downward until her eyes bore into mine. “No. In fact,I’mfeeling rather sane.” Her emphasis on the word goes unnoticed by everyone except for me.
Heart pounding, I admit to myself this showdown has been a long time coming, and what better day for it than a day Parker’s flying away from where I am. Maybe I’ll be able to get some answers from the woman who helped save my father’s life, befriended me, and re-introduced me to my boyfriend before…I shake my head to will away the thoughts of the package delivered to this office just a few days ago. Instead, I announce, “Libby and I need the room, please. Everyone leave your copy of the final bid on the table in front of you.”
Quickly, but what feels like eons to me, everyone exits the room, leaving Libby and me alone—each of us on one side of the conference table. “Bethany, what’s wrong?”
Is there an easy way to ask this?Deciding there’s no way to do this other than to just blurt it out, I stare into her green eyes and demand, “Are you fucking Parker?”
Her jaw falls open before her green eyes kindle into dangerous flames. “We’re friends. You and me. My husband and Thorn. How dare you ask me something as insulting?—”
Interrupting her, I slide the file folder with the pictures that were delivered to my office about ten days ago. Incriminating photos. Pictures of him and Libby going into restaurants. Nose-to-nose. Heading into elevators. Walking into hotel lobbies. Intorooms where my boyfriend has held the door open for her. Very incriminating from the outsider’s point of view.
All of this has occurred over the last month. A month where my boyfriend’s been distracted with “work” and has only made love to me a few times. A month where he’s been late and unavailable for our usual lunches.
Because he’s been with her.
Libby’s face pales. “Oh. My. God.”
I lift my booted feet up and cross them at the ankle atop the now destroyed bid. A bid I went after despite wanting nothing to do with this potential home-wrecker who claimed over and over to care for me, for my family, ever since the death of my mother. Because it would be good for business. I’m grateful it’s been killed since I want nothing more than to be as far away from this woman as possible.
As Libby flips through the photos, her hands tremble. The guilt oozing from her pores gives my bruised and battered heart the answer it needs. But it isn’t until Libby lifts her face to meet mine and I spy the absolute fury on hers that I realize I may have got it wrong.
Completely wrong.
Her voice is tight when she admits, “I’ve been helping Thorn plan something special for the two of you—for tonight.”
My legs, nothing more than weak noodles, slide off the table and, due to my boots, land with a loud thud. “Excuse me?”
Everything I’ve imagined since I received those photos shifts as the details move to make room in my mind for a different explanation. “Thorn isn’t cheating on me?”
Libby reaches across the table and takes my hand. “He’s trying to plan the surprise of a lifetime from the most unromantic guy who walks this earth. We’re all in on it, Bethany—everyone from Deja Vu, most of your staff, Cal, our kids.”
Tears drip from my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Libs. It just hurt so much to think…”
“Bethany, why didn’t you just confront Parker?”
“Because he’s been dodging me.”
