“I’ll have it terminated today.” Cam nods.
“Good.” I shift in my chair. “Now, I want you both to know that Poppy and I are together. For real,” I add, lowering my voice a touch.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Blake mutters, shaking his head.
I slam my hand against the table harder than intended, the glassware and the silverware shaking, causing the people seated at the tables nearby to turn and gawk.
With gritted teeth, I offer a rueful smile and an apologetic wave to those around us. Sitting up, I lean closer, resting my arms on the table.
Lowering my voice to a whisper, I flash Blake a warning look. “You are on thin fuckin’ ice, Mestroni.”
His face falls then, shock and something else flaring in his eyes.
Clearing my throat, I sit back again, glancing at Cam. “Poppy and I aren’t just together,” I add. “I’m in love. For the first time in my life. And I’m happy.” I shrug, because what else can I say.
Cam stares at me for a long moment, his gaze penetrating and assessing.
“This isn’t a fad,” I continue, shaking my head. “I’m notusingher to replace anything. I just… I realized a few weeks ago—” I stop to consider my words, ignoring Blake across the table and talking only to Cam. “For the first time in my life, I like who I am when she’s around. She makes me feel… like I’m more than.”
Cam releases a heavy exhale, shifting in his chair and, looking down at his closed laptop, he nods once. “I’m happy for you, Brookes.” Meeting my eyes, he continues. “Truly. You deserve to be happy. And I will terminate the contract this afternoon. However”—he offers me his warning, stern-dad look—“I need you to promise me that you will continue your therapy sessions because I know you haven’t been in a couple of weeks, and if this is really what you want, then for your sake as well as Poppy’s, youneedto continue therapy.”
I nod. “I will. I promise.”
“Good,” he says simply, lifting his gaze in Blake’s direction.
Refraining from rolling my eyes, I turn, looking at Blake, the two of us staring at one another for a long moment. And I have so much to say to this asshole. So fucking much. But I know I can’t. I will. Just not here. Not now. So, instead, I point a finger at him, searching for the words I can say right now.
“I want you to know,” I begin, my voice low and gruff, “that theonlyreason I haven’t fired your ass is because I don’t fucking trust you.”
Blake doesn’t even flinch at my words. Fucking narcissist.
Cam leans forward. “What the hell is going?—”
I hold my hand up, stopping him, my gaze never once wavering from Blake’s.
“You fuckin’ work forme,” I mutter, tapping my chest. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
He blinks, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“And, if youever—” I don’t say the words because I can tell he knows by my steely tone exactly what I’m talking about. “I will fucking finish you.”
Blake nods once, looking down, and I release the breath I’ve been holding, my shoulders sagging as I sit back in my chair.
“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” Cam finally asks, looking from me to Blake and back again.
My phone shudders then, and I check the message from Remy, my housekeeper, unable to stop the grin from spreading across my face.
Remy: The contractor just left, Mr. Brookes.
Sliding my phone into the pocket of my shorts, I stand. “I’ve gotta get home,” I say, tipping my chin at Blake as I push my chair in. “He can tell you everything.”
And, without another word, I turn and walk out of the restaurant with my chin held high and feeling a whole lot lighter in my chest.
CHAPTER 49
POPPY
Brookes: Can you do me a favor, baby?
