“I asked him to hack into my boyfriend’s brain,” I say.
“What?” He lets out an unexpected laugh. “Leave it to you to make this the topic of your small talk.”
“It’s why I’m the most fun at parties,” I say with a shrug.
“What did Sean say about that?”
“He said if he could do that, he may not have gotten a divorce,” I respond, laughing as we walk out of the elevator. Lach shakes his head and I keep talking, “I told him I wouldn’t want to hack into your brain anyway, because I’d be terrified of what I found.”
“What do you think you’d find?” He turns to me with an amused look on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Probably people’s socials and what hospitals they were born at.”
“I’m not that bad.” He laughs, and laughs louder when I shoot him a pointed look. “My brain would feel like you’re in one of those mirror things at a carnival, where you see yourself everywhere.”
“Those things are scary,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Which proves my point.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t scary in there.” He shrugs, still amused. “I’m just saying, all you’d find in there is yourself.”
“And hockey,” I respond.
“Yeah.” He nods in agreement. “But mostly you.”
We’re both smiling when we reach his parents and Liam.
* * *
After lunch, Lach and his parents head back to the office, while I stay behind in a cute little coffee shop across the street from the building. I’m looking at all of the links for dresses Marissa sent me when I see her text on my screen.
Marissa: did you see this? Isn’t this the event you were at?
I click the link she sent. It’s an article about the charity party we went to. In the first picture, two couples were photographed, and in the background, David Jameson, laughing with Mason. Holy shit. I grip my phone to keep it from slipping out of my hands. He was there. Mason’s comment runs through my mind. He’d said it was a Fairview reunion. I thought he meant because I was there with Lachlan. I didn’t think. . .oh my God.
I’m still looking at my phone when someone takes the seat in front of me. My entire body freezes, as the cloud of cigarettes that follows him, reaches my nose. I keep staring at my phone as if that’ll make this less real. I just know he’s been following me everywhere and waiting for his time to strike. For how long? Since the charity event? Fuck. He was probably keeping his distance, since Ronnie had been with me the entire time.
“You’re being very rude, Lyla,” he says. “You’re not supposed to ignore your own godfather.”
My heart pounds fiercely. I finally look up and meet his cold blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he says. “But I already have an idea.”
His hand comes down on mine. He does it so fast, I don’t have time to react. It’s my right hand. He hasn’t seen my ring. He hasn’t seen my left. Underneath the table, I turn my ring so the diamond is in my hidden and fist my hand closed. I try to yank my hand from underneath his, but his grip tightens.I need to scream. I need to scream.Why can’t I fucking scream?
“Did you not learn your lesson?” he asks, tone grating, squeezing so hard I think he might break my bones. “I guess I’ll have to keep you drugged until I’m done with you.”
“Let me go,” I say, barely audible. I couldn’t seem to get my voice any louder.
“That’s not going to happen,” he says calmly as he loosens his grip. “You’re going to get up and follow me out back.”
I shake my head.Why can’t I scream?I look around, wide-eyed, trying to catch anyone’s attention, but they’re all on their phones and computers. Fuck.
“If you try anything stupid, I’ll wait outside of the Duke building or the apartment until your little boyfriend leaves,” he says, eyes narrowed. “Is that what you want?”
My lip trembles. I shake my head and look outside, breathing easier when I see Ronnie. He doesn’t come inside, though. He’s on the phone, pacing up and down in front of the doors. Since my voice won’t work, I wave my left hand wildly in the air, trying to call his attention. Suddenly, Jameson lets go of my hand, stands up with his glare set on me, and walks toward the back. I count to five, get up, and run to the front door. I’m sure the people quietly drinking their coffees think I’m insane right now, but I don’t stop running until I exit and hit Ronnie’s muscular back. He turns around with a frown and hangs up the phone when he sees me.
“What’s going on?”
I point at the coffee shop. I’m shaking hard, and I can’t speak. Ronnie springs into action and goes inside. I follow him. I can’t stay on the sidewalk by myself right now. We look around, but Jameson is gone. Just like that. I almost think I may have imagined him, but when I get inside the SUV, the scent of cigarettes on my hand makes me gag, and I know it was real.
