Page 115 of Threaded Lies

“Can’t you see that’s why it’s a problem for me? You have me researching land parcels one week and then another you tell me you’re buying up land in Fairmont.”

“Your point?”

“Rhett was at The Vine celebrating some kind of real estate deal.”

“And I’m sure another couple was celebrating their anniversary or birthday. It’s a restaurant. It’s a place people go to mark special occasions.”

I draw in a sharp breath. “And we just happened to be there too.”

“Yes. We did.”

“Don’t you see all the coincidences that would make me question you? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, Holden.”

“So you say you trust me, but you really don’t.”

“No. I do. I truly do, but I feel like there’s always a game being played, and I want out. I’m sick of playing them.”

“You think what we’ve been doing is a game? Manhattan? The co-CEO? That’s all a game?” He steps into me and I hold my ground, hating the never-ending eddy of emotions. Anger looks sexy on him, and that’s never a good thought for someone who is holding their ground to have. “Because the way it looks to me is that you’re the one playing them. A fake engagement to buy time for something you won’t explain? The same something I said I’d give to you in a heartbeat if you just fucking asked.” He shakes his head and takes a step back. “You tell me you trust me. You open that door that I’ve been waiting on only to slam it back shut with accusations.”

“Holden.” I reach out to touch him and he yanks his arm back and away from me.

“Don’t. Just … fucking don’t. I’ve asked you to end the engagement. I’ve proven all your bullshit reasons why you can’t call it off to be wrong. Looks to me like someone is playing both sides, and it sure as fuck isn’t me.” He reaches out and cups the side of my cheek, his eyes conflicted. “Maybe it’s me who shouldn’t trust you.”

With that he walks away without another word.

And leaves me wondering what the actual fuck is going on.

FORTY-SIX

Rowan

“It’s a logical conclusion, don’t you—”

Rhett’s words stop the minute I walk into the conference room. All conversation dies and heads swivel my way. All but Chad. He keeps his head down and fingers fiddling with his pen.

“Looks like someone forgot to invite me, but please. Continue. Don’t let my presence stop you from talking about me,” I say as I move toward the head of the table beside my brother.

A few throats are cleared, a couple of people shift in their seats. Holden lifts his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment from where he sits in the far corner, but not a single person says a word.

I drop the binders in my arms so they land with a resounding thud on the table.

“Because that is what was going on, right? An emergency meeting to discuss my fitness to be on the board? A discussion over who I may or may not have slept with or be rumored to have slept with? Because that last one”—I whistle—“that last one definitely tells you all you need to know about me, right?”

“The dramatics aren’t needed, Rowan,” Rhett says.

“Dramatics? That’s you’re forte, Rhett. And this little bullshit referendum you called to try and oust me from my so-called equal position of power simply because you see me as a threat to your power is exactly that.” I state the words to my brother but stare down the room around us.

“It is concerning,” Boris Tinsley says from his seat at the far end of the table. “You weren’t a thought to be on this board, and then all of a sudden you are here without us getting to vote on it.”

“He has a point,” Linda Gaffe says from where she sits drenched in diamonds like trophies from all her past husbands.

“What they’re saying, Rowan, is that they don’t think a woman who sleeps her way to the top is who we want on our board or representing our company for that matter,” Rhett says.

I see Holden shift in the back of the room and I level him with a glancing glare, hoping my singular text to him is heeded. Let me handle it.

“I wonder why they’d think I’d do that,” I say to him, despite knowing the rumors are already flying through the Westmore gossip train. I figured my mom and Florence would keep mum to save their precious reputations, but I never quite considered the fired hostess and what she might post on social media about it.

Or is it simply my brother attempting a power play here?