“Nothing.” Taking the cookie, even though I don’t want it, I shake my head. “Nothing happened. We were bickering?—”
“Like you do.” Gwen grins at me before she takes a bite of her cookie.
“Yes, like we do…” Setting my own cookie down, I brush the crumbs off my hands. “And then you and your bridesmaids came in and asked him to make you shots, and?—”
“And I was mean to you and you went to bed.” Gwen tossed her cookie onto the table on top of mine. “I hate myself. I’m such a bitch.”
“Yes, you can be, but we’re focusing, remember?” Giving her a smile, I shake my head. “Anyway, Dean followed me to my room. We were talking and then he asked if he could kiss me—” Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I give her a shrug. “But Paige came before anything really happened. He left with her and then later, after everyone went to bed, I decided to go find him so we could?—”
“Hook-up.”
“Talk,” I insist, even though she’s not wrong. There’s no doubt what I wanted from Dean that night. It’s the same thing I wanted from him last night. What I’m coming to realize that I’ll always want from him. “I wanted to talk. She mentioned Allister when she came to get him and I wanted to make sure he understood that there wasn’t really an Allister to worry about. That we’d only been out a few times but then I walked into the living room and saw them kissing.”
Gwen looks at me like she’s lost. “Saw who kissing?”
“Dean and Paige,” I say like it’s obvious. “They were kissing and then he picked her up and carried her to the couch where they started?—”
“No you didn’t.”
“What?” Stopping short, I look at her like maybe I’m the one who’s lost. “Yes, I did. I saw?—”
“No.” Gwen gives me an emphatic head shake. “You didn’t see Paige with Dean that night. I know you didn’t.”
I don’t know why but when she says it, my stomach clenches like I’m going to throw up. “I don’t understand.”
“You didn’t see Paige and Dean, getting it on in the living room that night. You couldn’t have seen them because Dean wasn’t with Paige. He was with me.”
SIXTY
I’m officially homeless.
After my impromptu brunch with Gwen on Saturday and the confessions that followed, I decided to stay in Boston. I sent Gwen home and called down to the front desk to make sure I wasn’t stealing someone’s room. After being assured that I wasn’t, I went back to bed and stayed there until Sunday afternoon after which I booked a private car on the train and went back to New York, trading one Hawthorne for another.
I woke up to two things this morning—the first being an offer on my apartment, which I accepted without even viewing. I don’t really care about the money. I just want to be free of it.
The second thing I woke up to was another email from myanonymous whistleblower. The subject line read:All About Dean.
The body of the email was as short and sweet as always:
He’s not who you think he is.
Included in the email were several attachments. Seeing them flipped my stomach inside out and made it hard to breathe so I didn’t open them. Not right away.
Instead, I ordered room service and showered. Got ready for work—it’s Monday—and ordered a car to take me to the office. My father has been texting and calling, non-stop, since Saturday morning. Probably since he realized that I was MIA and that I was most likely with Dean.
I sent him back a simple text:
I’m fine, Dad. I’ll see you at work on Monday.
On my way to the office, I called my realtor and told her I wanted to look at new properties. Something close to Central Park. Preferably pre-war. Nothing new. Nothing modern. Nothing like my last place. It was a great apartment, in a state-of-the-art building but I was never really comfortable there. It wasn’t me. It was who I thought I was supposed to be. To be honest, getting rid of it is a relief. If it had been amicable break-up with Allister and he hadn’t turned out to be a cheating piece of shit, I would’ve given it to him—that’s how much I don’t care about it.
Weekend appointment made, I walked into my office, telling Alice to hold my calls before closing my door and sitting down at my desk. Opening my laptop, I pulled up the email I received this morning and finally opened the files attached to it.
Pages of texts from Paige to Dean, sent to him while we were on the island.
Paige: I miss the way you fuck me.
Paige: Allister is so boring. This was a mistake.
