"You’ll have to ask Meredith about that." She swipes the hair back from her face.
"Did he ask you to round up all the women so you all could keep an eye on me?"
"It…it wasn’t like that." She leans forward to take my arm.
I shake it off, "All this time, I thought, perhaps, I had a support circle here, that perhaps I had a chance of finding a place where I belonged… I should have known that asshole would set me up. It was all about making sure that he was informed of my movements."
"He wanted to keep you safe."
"Bullshit," my voice echoes around the space.
A couple speaking at the far end of the corridor looks our way. Like I care? I glare at Amelie, "It was a way of controlling me, making sure he could monitor everything I did. He wanted to see if I’d give myself away."
"Give yourself away?" She frowns, "What are you talking about? Saint wanted to ensure that you didn’t feel lonely, that’s all."
"You believe that?"
She holds my gaze, "I do, Victoria. Saint’s madly in love with you. I’ve never seen a man more besotted. Sure, he may be unorthodox in the way he shows it, but you have to admit, it’s romantic that he’s been so… Forceful."
I throw back my head and laugh.
The couple glances at me again, then move away, putting more distance between us. Good.
Too bad, Saint hadn’t gotten the memo as well.
"Keep kidding yourself that way, girlfriend— Oh, I forgot, you’re not really my friend, are you?" I rise to my feet.
"Please, V, don’t be like that."
I turn to leave.
"I admit Saint prompted us to befriend you. Our friendship may have started out that way, but we've all grown to like you... Hell, you've become my BFF so damn quickly..."
I pause, then turn to glance at her, "BFF?" I chew on my lower lip.
"I swear." She holds up her hand.
"I want to believe you; I do." I shift my weight from foot to foot. "But imagine if you were in my place and you found that your... Uh... The man you're interested in goes behind your back and gets to the women you think are your friends. What would you think of it?"
"I..." she blinks rapidly, "I'd think he cares for me... A lot."
I scoff, "Wait until it’s your turn and one of those alphaholes sets his sights on you. I’ll be sure to ask you then, how it feels... Then again, I probably won’t be around."
"Oh, pfft," she waves a hand in the air. "Of course, you’ll be around. And I’m not the settling type. I intend to focus on myself. I’ve planned a retreat to rediscover myself," she beams.
I squint at her, "What do you mean?"
"I am going to take a few weeks off over Christmas. I'm going away to an isolated cabin in the countryside. It’s owned by the Seven, and it’s one of the things Saint promised me in return for…"
I throw up my hands, "Jesus, I can't believe you agreed to that."
"I knew I shouldn't have taken him up on that offer." She blinks, "I'll refuse him; I won't go to the cabin. In fact, I'll tell him I don’t want any credit on the cakes and desserts I provided for the wedding party."
I scan her features.
She wrings her fingers together, "Shit, I’m sorry, V… I really didn't think it would upset you this much."
Maybe it's me. Maybe I am overreacting. Everything is running away from me, this entire sequence of events moving too fast for me. I hunch my shoulders. I feel so alone—so damn on my own. Nina has always been there for me. And she isn’t here... and I have to go through with this sham of a fake wedding. It is the only way to keep on track, and complete what I came here to do. She'd be free and it would all have been worth. It would, right?
"V," Isla approaches me. "I'm sorry."
I draw in a breath.
"Please tell me that you're not angry with us."
I sigh.
"Please... p-l-eee-ase," Amelie singsongs.
This woman! I may not have known her long, but her happy-go-lucky nature is a thing of beauty. She wears her heart on her sleeve, hadn't blinked an eye before inviting me into her home. If there is one thing I know, it’s that when I need her most, Amelia will be there to help me, just like Nina had been.
"Fine," I mutter.
She whoops and throws her arms around me. "OMG! Thank you, V. Thank you. Everything is going to work out now. I promise you. Saint loves you. He really does."
Hell, he's fooled all of them; but I can see through him.
I pat her back, then straighten my shoulders. "Guess I'd better get this over with, huh?"
40
Saint
She had to do it, huh? She had to take the goddamn USB. I'd checked the drawer after she'd fallen asleep, when I’d gone to grab her purse, and it was gone. Then because, apparently, I have a hidden masochistic side, I had checked her purse...and spotted the fucking thing. Fuck. So this is how it feels to have your life go tits up.
I toss back the whiskey, then place the empty glass back on the bar counter. The bartender tops it off. I lift the glass to my lips, take a healthy sip.
"Living the dream, I see?" Weston slaps me on the back.
I chug down the rest of the amber liquid, slap the glass back on the bar.
"Easy, ol' chap." Weston leans his hip against the bar, watches as I reach across and grab the bottle from the bartender. I tilt the bottle of Macallan’s Single Malt to my mouth, swig from it.
"As classy as your shoes," he clicks his tongue.
"What’s fucking wrong with my shoes?"
"A bit worn out for the rest
