“Behind what?” Sammi squared her shoulders and looked Ty straight in the eye, seeing the insecurity that made him behave like a bully. Why hadn’t she realized what he was long ago and saved herself a whole lot of misery?
“Like you don’t know,” Ty sneered. “I lost my job thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me? I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I certainly didn’t have anything to do with you losing your job.”
“Your denial might be more believable if you weren’t here with Lowell.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Fine. Play the innocent,” he sniffed. “A couple weeks after you and I broke up, my manager sits me down, tells me there’s been a series of complaints about me from my biggest client.”
If he treated them with the same disdain he’d shown her, then Sammi wasn’t surprised he’d gotten into trouble.
“What does any of that have to do with Oliver or me?”
“It took me a while to connect the dots, but eventually I found out that the person stirring up trouble was your date.”
“Oliver?” she breathed, suddenly feeling sick. “That makes no sense. Why would he go out of his way to make trouble for you?”
“At the time I had no idea. In fact, none of it made any sense until I saw the two of you together tonight.”
“What are you saying?”
“That you asked him to mess with me.”
“What? That’s absurd.”
“Is it? You two look pretty cozy. How long have you known each other?”
Sammi stared at her ex-boyfriend in puzzlement. “We met in September.”
“When in September?”
Sammi tossed her head. “If you have to know, the night we broke up.”
“And you’ve been going out this whole time?”
“No, I was in Paris for fashion week and didn’t see him again until early October. Why?”
“So when you two met that night, you didn’t cry on his shoulder about how I’d dumped you?” He paused and leered. “Or why?”
“I didn’t.” Sammi frowned, trying to recall that evening and what they’d talked about. “I mean he asked me if I was okay. He’d obviously seen what happened between us before you took off. And stuck me with the unpaid bar tab,” she added in a spiteful afterthought.
“So you wanted a little revenge.”
Sammi frowned, trying to wrap her head around what he was saying. “That’s not true. And besides, Oliver has no idea who you are. How could he possibly cause you to lose your job?”
“We met that night as I was leaving. He dumped a drink on me, and I gave him my business card so he could pay for my dry cleaning.”
“I’m sure it’s all a big coincidence.”
“Some coincidence when I see you two looking all lovey-dovey,” Ty said in a dark tone. “You can deny it all you want, but I know you were behind the whole thing.”
Sammi reeled as Ty’s accusation struck her. “I knew nothing about any of this,” she declared, wishing she could speak for Oliver, as well. “And I’m sure if your client complained about you, there was a reason for it.” Sammi didn’t wait for Ty to reply before heading back the way she’d come. Toward Oliver.
Was it possible that he’d done something so devious and harmful to Ty? And for what purpose? For her? Had she said something that spurred Oliver to act? Or had his anger gotten the better of him?
Sick to her stomach, she ducked into a restroom and leaned heavily on the counter until her breathing slowed. Ty’s accusation spun through her head, pinning her in place. What was she supposed to do with what she’d learned? Her phone buzzed with a text. She glanced at the screen and saw that Oliver was looking for her. The idea of confronting him about what Ty said filled her with dread, but what if she told him about her encounter with Ty and Oliver did something even worse?
Sammi knew she’d never be able to keep silent. She wanted an honest relationship with Oliver, both for herself and her child. And if that meant she had to give up on the idea of being a couple with him... She’d already given him her heart. The thought of wrenching it away made her ache. Oliver would always be a part of her life. But he had to know that his anger issues were posed to do all of them harm.
Decision made, she texted Oliver back, letting him know that she wasn’t feeling well and would meet him near the entrance. Then, bracing herself for the conversation to come, she headed for the elevator.
Eleven
In the quiet back corridor on the boutique’s third floor, Oliver hung up on his father’s lawyer and stewed. How could Vernon possibly believe he deserved forgiveness or redemption or whatever the hell he thought he might achieve by seeing his sons? Oliver was only too happy to disappoint him.
He knew Sammi was waiting, no doubt worried how the call had gone, but the anger surging through his veins needed to die down before he faced her. Tonight’s event was all about her, and he’d spoil the mood if he stormed back filled with irritation.
It was getting harder each day to moderate his temper around her. Everywhere he turned, he was forced to contend with people’s curiosity about his father’s upcoming trial. Nonstop leaks spilled tidbits involving the evidence that had been gathered; New York newspapers wrote articles featuring the families who’d lost everything to Vernon Lowell’s larceny. Oliver couldn’t go anywhere without confronting his father’s wrongdoing.
The deluge threw salt in unhealed wounds, and with each day that passed Oliver struggled to stay sober. He’d started attending meetings again, finding comfort in anonymity. Yet although the community helped him, he hadn’t shared with Sammi that he was going. He was trying to convince her to move in with him and didn’t want his struggles to create an obstacle to that.
Finally calmer, Oliver went back downstairs to find Sammi. He sent her a text asking her
