Page 53 of Final Proposal

But it is. And that’s on me because I was willing to marry a man who never took the time to see it.

My smile is placating. Condescending. “We’re awful busy today.”

“You can make time for me.”

My smile is frozen in place as our foreman, Roddy, walks by and takes in the two of us standing there. I can already feel his judgment without him even uttering a word. Three months ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about standing next to Chandler, but I already feel like such a different person than the one who agreed to marry him.

It’s crazy how perspective can do that to you.

“Clearly you’re making progress,” Chandler says to fill the awkward silence.

“Hmm.”

“Sharpe has made a good choice on changing the front elevation of the building. It’ll have cleaner lines and a more timeless esthetic. He really knows his—”

“Those were my choices.”

Chandler’s eyes snap over to mine, his condescending chuckle telling me he doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t believe either I’m capable of making educated decisions such as this or that Fordham Sharpe would ever let a woman make decisions for him.

Neither can be further from the truth.

And both piss me off.

“Like I said. We’re swamped today. A whole crew has called in sick and we have a serious deadline to meet. Thanks for stopping by, but—”

“C’mon, Ellery.” He reaches out and tries to lace his fingers through mine. I stiffen in response, repulsion the only thing I feel. “I made the effort to come all this way, the least you can do is show me around.”

Ford

Fucking prick.

I smash the sledgehammer into the drywall.

Fiancée, my ass.

The thud of it hitting the gypsum does nothing to abate the jealousy that streaked through me when he put his hand on her back.

Chandler Holcomb with his pretentious smile and condescending tone. He probably practices that smug smile in the mirror every morning. Little does he know it makes him look like an asshole.

How can she like him?

How can she want a man who looks at her as less than instead of as an equal?

Because he sure as fuck does. It was in the stupid questions he asked her. In the patronizing comments he made that clearly questioned her and her abilities. In the way he made it known to every person he talked to that she was his.

He made my blood boil.

And the fact that she is with him and looked so miserable being beside him, does even more so.

She deserves so much better.

She deserves . . . me.

I grunt as I lift the hammer up again, trying to work through the anger seeing him here created. Why did she invite him here?

Thunder rumbles outside as the storm moves in. Fitting for my mood. Fitting for an excuse as to why I need to keep going despite everyone already having left the site.

Lift. Smash. Yank.