Page 67 of Seductive Scoundrel

“I had lunch with Mike today. He says hi.”

“Mike?” The name leaves my mouth just as the realization hits me. Mike doesn’t know me.

Crap.

I sit up straight, drawing in a deep breath, ready to eat crow – because I lied – and should have come clean about it ages ago.

Except that I’m a coward. I avoid confrontation like the plague, which is exactly why I’m in NYC. If I wasn’t a coward, I would have confronted Kyle and Veronica instead of running away, leaving them to live their happily ever after in peace.

“We both know that I don’t know Mike,” I admit. There’s a slight waver in my voice because the realization of how much this man means to me has just sucked the air out of my lungs.

Nothing like the potential of losing someone to learn – fast – how much they matter.

Slowly, Dean’s eyes meet mine. They’re filled with anger and betrayal – and I deserve it.

I want to say more – apologize profusely, beg for another chance – but the look on his face and the little pride I have left stop me.

It seems like years drag by as we sit there, Dean looking at me like I’m a stranger, but maybe I am. Maybe he doesn’t really know me. Maybe I don’t know myself.

“Would you like to explain why you’ve been lying to me?” he demands, the icy tone in his voice killing me. “You had to know I’d eventually see my friend and mention you. Or April. That’s who I hooked up with at the party, by the way.”

I flinch at the thought of him with anyone else. “I should have told you, but I didn’t expect this to…to…actually go anywhere. Maybe a night of fun at best. And then things just – happened – between us. Evolved. And I didn’t think it mattered.” I watch his expression harden.

“But that was wrong,” I rush on, desperately trying to find the words to make him understand. “I should have told you regardless. Oh, Dean, I’m really sorry.”

“There are certain things that I can’t forgive, Mia, and lying is one of them.”

“It was just a little white lie.”

“A white lie is still a lie.” His words are like a hammer to my chest, splitting it wide open.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, but already know it’s too late. His face is unrecognizable stone.

We sit for a second while my pride fights with the desire to grovel for another chance.

Dean closes the pizza box and stacks the cheesecake on top, holding them out to me. “You haven’t eaten. Take these with you. Robert is waiting downstairs to take you home.”

His words echo in my head as I stare at the boxes. He planned to break up with me. He let me come over and pick up pizza –knowinghe was going to end it.

End us.

That knowledge gives me the strength to move. I was wrong, but he was cruel.

“Keep it,” I say, my voice shaky, but I don’t give a shit now. I won’t see him again anyway. “And tell Robert that I can find my own way home.”

“Mia, it’s late. I think…” his words trail after me as I rush from the living room, then out the front door.

Tears cloud my vision, and I’m about a millisecond away from breaking down. Thankfully, the elevator is waiting – and Dean doesn’t come after me.

Apparently, there’s nothing left to say.

* * *

“Is everything okay?”Bianca asks as soon as I walk through the door of the Greyhound Rescue Center the next evening. “You were out of sorts on the phone this morning.”

I nod, determined not to sound like a whiny teenager who just got dumped. Last night was rough. I barely slept, which made work today slow and painful. Looking through financial records when your brain isn’t functioning is like Chinese water torture.

“Thanks for letting me come in on such short notice. Just one of those weeks. What can I do to help?”

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