Sullivan bristles, rolling his lips as he gives me a terse nod. “I’ll drop her over by six.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” I answer, holding his eyes for a beat before he looks away.
I still don’t know what was so important that he had to call Denver that day and ask for his assistance. All I know is that it involved the mysterious Tate, and that Molly said she doesn’t come round to their place anymore. Hence why I’m going to bake with Molly today to try and cheer her up. Because Sullivan is off on another overnight work trip to visit one of our stores and check in with them. This time it’s San Francisco. Last week it was San Diego. I’ve never known him to go as much as he has recently.
I drop my head back against the couch. “We’ll go for red velvet cupcakes. Molly loves—” I swallow hard.
Sullivan’s gaze returns to mine, and I swear his ice blue-colored eyes he shares with my father soften a touch. “You’re right, she does love them. So did Denver, from what I recall.”
I shrug. “I wouldn’t know.” Sullivan watches me as I try to keep my tone uninterested. “Have you heard how he’s getting on in LA?” I ask, unable to help myself.
“Spoke to him this morning, actually.”
I whip my gaze to his face, ignoring the sudden slice of pain across my chest that my brother gets to speak to him and hear his voice, ask how he is, but I don’t.
“He sounded like he always does. Serious, getting on with his job. You know Denver… or perhaps not. I guess you were never really a fan, you hardly spoke to the guy.”
“That’s right,” I sniff. “I didn’t.”
“Well, you don’t need to now. He’s gone.”
I hide my wince at Sullivan’s clipped words. I know he’s testing me. He’s not an idiot. My newly acquired self-pity and hibernation inside my apartment began the moment Denver walked out. I hadn’t even gotten the last unwanted guest out of my place from the party before he’d been to see my father, handed in his resignation, and boarded a plane to LA.
“Plus, you’re free of needing a bodyguard, which is what you wanted. So at least try to look happy about it.” Sullivan sighs.
“I am happy,” I lie.
Sullivan shakes his head, muttering.
“Don’t.” I glare at him.
“Didn’t say a word, Sis,” he clips. “You want to stay in your apartment and tell yourself you don’t miss him, that you didn’t wish he was still here, then that’s your choice. But don’t expect me to fall for your bullshit.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, looking into my coffee as I swirl it inside my mug. Anything to avoid meeting his eyes.
Sullivan grunts. “Yeah. Just like you didn’t know that Denver wouldn’t accept any extra payment Dad offered him for being assigned to you.”
“What?” I reel back, almost spilling the coffee. Monty lifts his head from my lap, looking at Sullivan too.
Sullivan’s eyes narrow. “He wired it all back before he left. Personally, I think he should have asked for double.”
I ignore his jibe and stare at him, my heart hammering. “Denver didn’t take the money he earned from being my bodyguard?”
“Not a cent,” Sullivan says, turning toward the door. “See you at six.”
I slam the coffee mug on the floor by the couch and jump, bundling Monty into my arms as I race after him to my front door.
“What did Dad say when Denver told him he was leaving?” I ask in a rush.
Sullivan opens the door and steps out into the hallway. He turns back to me with an assessing gaze. “What do you think he said?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Sullivan’s eyes narrow. “What exactly happened between you and Denver?”
I push down the sudden rising tide of emotion that threatens to shoot up and spray out, drenching us in its messy, heartbreaking truth.
“Nothing,” I say, forcing my voice to sound dull and emotionless. “He just did his job. I was his job.”
