Page 50 of Every Silent Lie
Camryn, the next step is for me to apply to the court so we can move forward. That’s a lengthy and expensive process for both of us. Please, can you just sign the acknowledgment form and hire legal counsel so we can start to get the financial settlement agreed and both of us can move on?
My phone hits the marble bar with a thud when I drop it, and Julio delivers my second martini at the perfect time. I throw it back and gasp after swallowing hard. Move on? So we can both move on? I will never move on.
“Want some company?”
I turn toward the voice, looking him up and down. There’s no ring. “Yes,” I say without much thought, indicating the stool. “Why not.” There are a dozen reasons, all of which, in this moment, I’m prepared to ignore. “What are you drinking?”
“Negroni,” he says to Julio as he perches on the stool, resting his forearms on the bar so the overhead bar lights shine down on his hands. I’ve seen this move endless times before. A subtle demonstration that there’s no ring. He doesn’t know that I already spotted that, except I didn’t have the benefit of light on his hands then. And I do now.
“When did you remove it?” I ask, tapping the base of my glass with my fingertip.
“Excuse me?”
“Your ring. Was it off before you saw me, or did you take it off before you decided to come over?”
Laughing under his breath, he starts doing the motions, spinning the wedding band that isn’t there. “Caught red-handed.”
“American?” I ask.
“New York.”
“Here on business?”
“And now stranded.”
“How inconvenient,” I murmur, crossing one leg over the other and turning slightly toward him.
“I thought so too until a few minutes ago.” His eyes drop down my seated body as he extends a hand. “Hugh.”
I laugh on the inside at the irony. “Camryn,” I say, accepting and shaking. “That’s a strong shake.”
“Touché.” He narrows his eyes, my hand still in his, his unspoken intentions clear.
“You’re staying here?” I ask.
Julio clears his throat and places two fresh drinks on the bar. “Would you like me to charge these to your room, Mr. Colton?”
“Yes, good man.” Huge takes a cool sip of his drink. “Six-one-eight.”
“Subtle,” I say quietly, laughing to myself. “What do you do?”
“Financial technology. You?”
“CFO.”
He can’t hide his surprise, or his delight. “Really?”
“That doesn’t make us kindred spirits.”
He lets out a bark of laughter, caressing the rim of his short, fat glass with his fingertip in slow circles. “You’re very intriguing.”
“Don’t be intrigued, Hugh. It’s dangerous.”
His smile slowly drops as he casts his eyes my way. “How many men have been intrigued by you, Camryn?”
“Enough for me to know what I’m doing.” Not enough for me to be cured.
Two small leather folders are placed before us, courtesy of Julio, and I watch, expressionless, as Hugh scribbles his signature in his first, before helping himself to mine. Flicking me a look annoyingly on the edge of self-assuredness, he stands. “Excuse me while I use the men’s.” I watch him stride away, my top lip sucked between my teeth, and I rest back on my stool, contemplating. Questioning.
