Page 84 of Bestie's Bossy Billionaire Brother
“Well, someone sent Oliver photos of you and Jason holding hands when we met up with him. You should be an actress; if I hadn’t thought up the plan myself, I’d have questions for you with how happy you two looked together.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “What? Who sent them?”
She shrugs. “We don’t know who sent them, but they must have been taken while you were at that cafe. Oliver thought you had something to do with Jason stealing his proposal.”
My mind races as I try to make sense of everything. Someone took photos of me and him holding hands? This is all too much to handle.
“I had nothing to do with Jason stealing Oliver’s proposal,” I say. “And those photos were probably just someone trying to stir up trouble.”
“I know, but it really hurt Oliver. He thought you were playing him this whole time.”
Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. “I would never do something like that to him. I care too much about him and Alice to hurt them like this.”
“I know,” she says softly, reaching out to give me a hug. “But you and Oliver have a lot of sorting things out to do. Tell the idiot what happened so you can decide whether you want to forgive him or not.”
I sigh, knowing she’s right. “I will. But right now, I need to take care of something first.”
I pull away from her embrace and grab my purse, then head out of her apartment.
As I’m walking back to my car, I take out my phone and pull up Jason’s number.
“Hey, it’s me,” I say when he picks up. “I need to talk to you. Meet me at The Tasting Room in twenty minutes.”
Without waiting for a response, I hang up the phone and get into my car. This is far from over.
When I arrived at The Tasting Room, Jason is already seated at a table for two in the far back corner of the restaurant.
As I approach the table, a smug grin spreads across his face. “Changed your mind, have you? Ready to come back to me?”
I roll my eyes, anger and disgust rising in me. “You’re unbelievable, Jason. I didn’t come here to get back together with you. I came to confront you about stealing Oliver’s proposal and sending those photos to him.”
Jason’s grin falters as he realizes I’m not there to reconcile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, his voice betraying his lies.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” I retort, taking a seat at the table. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You stole Oliver’s proposal and sent those photos of me and you holding hands to him.”
Jason’s eyes widen in surprise. “I stole nothing from Oliver,” he says, his voice shaky. “And I certainly didn’t send any photos to him.”
“Don’t lie to me, Jason,” I say, leaning closer to him. “I know you’re behind this. You’ve wanted to get back at him for dating me.”
Jason shrugs, trying to hide his true intentions. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And even if I did, what’s it to you? You’re not with Oliver anymore.”
“That’s not the point,” I snap, but I can’t help but wonder how he knows we aren’t together anymore. “I know you did it. You’re always trying to create chaos and drama. You’re a snake, and I’m done with your games.”
“You’re the one playing games, Catherine,” he snarls. “You’re the one who wanted to have your cake and eat it, too. And now you’re trying to blame me for your mess? That’s rich.”
“I’m not the one who stole someone else’s proposal and sent photos of me and him holding hands to a guy I’m dating,” I retort. “That’s beyond low. I mean, you’ve done worse, but still.”
Jason’s expression changes then, and he sits back down in his chair. “Okay, you got me,” he admits finally. “I stole Oliver’s proposal, but it’s his fault. It wasn’t very difficult to find someone to help me get access to his email account. All I had to do was log in and copy the document into my folder.”
He looks at me then, a smug look on his face.
“And once I had that, sending the photos was just as easy. I heard Oliver was really upset about it too, so mission accomplished.”
“So what does this accomplish, Jason?” I ask, my glare burning into him. “Why admit all of this to me now?”
Jason’s eyes glint with a mixture of recklessness and something more profound, perhaps a shade of the vulnerability that he always masks with arrogance. “Because, Catherine, I’ve got nothing left to lose,” he says, his voice dropping a notch. “After you left, everything went downhill. Everyone in our life knows what I’ve done to you, and my coworkers think I’m a joke. You think I enjoyed the mess I found myself in? No. I was stuck in a life I didn’t want, with responsibilities that I never planned for.”
He leans in, earnestness replacing the smugness on his face. “I needed to prove something, not just to myself but to everyone who looked at me with pity in their eyes after you walked away. I needed to win at something. Oliver, with his perfect life and his success, was just a means to an end. A stepping stone.”
