Page 62 of My Ex-Fiance's Best Men
I know Georgina well enough to recognize that she wants to follow me, but she knows better than to harass someone who’s about to pump a five-figure payment into the Perle Noire. Melanie greets me with a smile from behind the counter. Phoebe’s carefully boxed and wrapped trousseau sits beside her.
“Melanie, thank you so much for your service and your exquisite guidance. Now, please, take my money.”
She laughs lightly. “It’s been my pleasure, Mr. Forbes. I hope every woman is as lucky as Phoebe to have a gentleman like you in her life.”
“I’m the lucky one,” I reply. “And do add a twenty-five percent tip for yourself, Melanie. You’ve earned it.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I notice Georgina is headed for the door. The sales rep stares at her with a mixture of offense and confusion. It only serves to confirm what I had already suspected. Georgina was following me. Given that this store is by appointment only, however, I have to wonder exactlyhowclosely she’s been following me.
Evening findsme outside Phoebe’s apartment building with the trousseau gift box in my hands.
I’m nervous, but in a good way. I hope she loves every piece in this collection, and I hope it makes her feel beautiful. The stronger and more self-confident Phoebe becomes, the harder it’ll be for anyone to stand in our way. I feel like I could take on the whole world with this woman by my side.
Glancing up, I see that the lights in her apartment are off. I text her.
Hey, babe, are you home?
She should be. We spoke earlier and she knew I’d be coming over.
No answer. Not even a read receipt. My stomach tightens as I head inside the building. Upon reaching her door, I pause andlisten. There are no sounds coming from the other side. The TV is off.
I call her. It goes straight to her voicemail. “Hey, this is Phoebe. I can’t answer the phone right now, you know what to do!” I hear her sweet voice say, followed by a beep.
“I’m outside. Where are you?” I leave my message then hang up.
Nothing. For a few long, languishing minutes, there’s nothing. I decide to check our message history again and notice that Phoebe read my text. So, I send another one.
Left a VM. Where are you?
No response.
Irritation works its way through me, so I call her again. And again, I’m sent straight to voicemail.
What’s going on? Phoebe, answer me. Are you okay?
She’s typing something.
“Fucking finally,” I say to myself as her message comes through. “Wait, what the hell?”
It’s a Twitter link. I tap to open it.
My stomach drops as soon as I read the TMZ headline in capital letters.
THEO FORBES AND GEORGINA SPRINGFIELD AN ITEM AGAIN?
Below are photos of Georgina and me at the Perle Noire, taken from outside the boutique. The store may be by appointment only, but anyone can see through those massive glass windows.
Fuck.I read the rest of the tweet.
Former couple reunited? Theo Forbes, Hamptons billionaire, and Georgina Springfield, supermodel, seen shopping for sexy lingerie at NY’s Perle Noire flagship.
I shake my head. “No, no, no…”
The replies to the tweet make my stomach turn inside out.
I thought Theo and the Coates twins were dating Phoebe?
Poor Phoebe Baldwin. Theo did her dirty.
