“How do you know that?”
“I took her there,” I mumble.
“You took Emile back to the hotel?” she repeats in a less-than-inviting tone. “Why would you take her back?”
“Why do you care?” I deadpan.
“I care because she’s my assistant,” Kate tells me. “And a friend.”
Assistant? Shit. I draw my head back quickly, turning to face Kate. Her expression sours her beauty, a look of contempt, assuming I’ve done wrong. For once, I shouldn’t be the evil villain in all of this.
“Dominic, answer me?” she demands again.
“It’s not my place to say why. She needed a ride home, that’s all.”
“With you, it’s never a that’s all,” Kate argues until she moves in closer, almost whispering in my ear. “Don’t think for one second you can manipulate her to think she’s anything less than who she is by dragging her to your club. You’ve done your damage, and you better believe I’ll do everything in my power to protect her.”
“Kate?”
I hear the angered voice of Noah standing near us. “Is there a problem?”
“There shouldn’t be,” Kate assures him. “Let’s go.”
I don’t glance their way. The salt they had so easily poured into my open wound is the least of my problems right now.
There’s something more pressing.
Kate may use her power to protect Emile from me, the so-called big bad wolf, but I’m not the one she should be worried about.
I’m not the one who leaned in for the kiss.
And I’m definitely not the one who intimately ran their fingers through my hair.
But there’s one major problem—I’m the one who cares.
Chapter Five
Emile
“I insist you join us today.”
Eric’s persistent tone carries through the phone as my eyes squint, struggling to open. Turning to my side, I let out a yawn noting the time is only eight in the morning.
I fell asleep.
The last thing I recall is staring at the window, insomnia keeping me company as my errors of last night replay like a lousy movie worthy of a cringe.
I’m a fool, an idiot. I should know better than to kiss Dominic, of all people. Sure, he saved me from Richard’s lewd act, but a thank you shouldn’t have been returned via a kiss.
Kate’s voice echoes in my head all night long. The stories she told of the man Dominic is, and despite being painted as a man with no heart, let alone affectionate, why didn’t he push me away? That kissed lasted for seconds, maybe even a minute.
Why didn’t he stop?
“And so then, Tristan says, let’s skinny dip. I mean, can you even imagine if the coastal guard caught us?”
Only catching half the story, I shake my head to rid myself of my dazed state. “I’m sorry, Eric, what did you say?”
“I’m going to forgive you for your lack of attention over my inappropriate beach activities. Assuming, much like everyone else, you’re completely hungover?”
“Um… yes,” I clear my throat. “Very.”
“Then, it’s settled, brunch?”
I’m about to accept the invitation when it dawns on me that Dominic may be in attendance. I want to avoid him like the plague but need a reason to ask.
“Who else will be joining us? Is it just a family thing?”
“My parents, Lex and Charlie. The rest are still sleeping.”
“Oh,” I say, grimacing. “I thought it was just your parents and brother.”
“My brother and his wife went back to the city,” Eric mentions, less enthused. “So, you’ll come, right?”
How easily I had forgotten about his wife.
“I guess I can’t say no to the newlywed, now can I?”
“Hmm…” I can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Consider it your wedding gift to me.”
I let out a snort. “That’s what you said last week when you wanted one last hurrah at the gym to look at the single men.”
“I’m such a bad liar,” Eric admits so carefreely. “See you soon, gorgeous!”
The call ends, prompting me to throw the sheets over my head. Thank God, Dominic won’t be at brunch. I instantly feel myself relax, but with that, curiosity begins to consume me. I open my Instagram, typing in his name. Nothing comes up, which doesn’t surprise me.
Letting out an annoyed huff, I click on Eric’s profile and go through who he’s following. All I see are half-naked men and reality television stars. After seeing a string of our mutual friends’ accounts, I stumble on an account with the username Dom84, which upon opening, isn’t private. There are no photos of the person, just random pictures of New York City. Heading back to Eric’s account, I scroll through his photos from yesterday until the image of his family is on my screen, and the same account is tagged.
I don’t know what possesses me, but I need to end whatever this mess is that I created and bury it along with many other things I wish not to think about. I type a direct message, my fingers acting before my weary brain.
Emile Cadieux: I was really drunk last night. I’m sorry.
I don’t expect a response, but within seconds, a message pops into my inbox.
Dom84: Quite the sleuth to find me. I didn’t know stalking is part of your job description. Perhaps, prior to kissing me while supposedly drunk, you could have mentioned your ties to Kate?
Emile Cadieux: That information is irrelevant. Unless, of course, I foiled some plan of yours involving my kind boss?
Emile Cadieux: Let’s just forget this all happened.
Dom84: I don’t easily forget things… Miss Cadieux.
Emile Cadieux: Pourquoi devez-vous être un âne si arrogant!
Shit, I called him an arrogant ass! My anger can only result in an unpleasant conversation. I need to end this right now.
Dom84: Now, now. It seems you’re quite worked up. The little black box you caught at the wedding may come in handy. Try it. You may be surprised.
Heat rushes between my legs. Just ignore him. This is what he does to women to lure them into his club.
Emile Cadieux: I know what you’re doing. I’m not some
