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I look around for the man who brought me to this city, and I’m about to walk to one of the floor staff when I spot him at the bar. And just like that, my heart leaps like it’s got somewhere to be.

Bishop.

He’s wearing all black, talking to one of his security people. I find myself frozen, just staring at him.

I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Just the thought of the man, the mere sight of him, is enough. I feel the clutch in my stomach, that feeling I get when the man is close. When he looks at me and touches me.

And now, I want him. Maybe I could convince him to show me around, teach me some ridiculous card game in this den of his.

With a smile on my lips, I start toward him, but someone beats me to it. I stop, watching as a cocktail waitress, dressed in a tiny body-hugging dress, walks up to him with an empty tray. She slides a hand down his arm in a low, seductive stroke that sends my breath catching in my throat, burning me.

I watch as she leans in to say something in his ear. He says something back, and she throws her beautiful blond head back and laughs, slapping his arm playfully.

She’s flirting with him. It’s clear as day.

Then she says something else, and holds up her phone, and shakes it a little—dead, or she wants him to see something on it, I can’t tell from here.

And Bishop reaches into his jacket, takes out his own phone, and puts it in her hand.

She’s still holding it when she starts typing.

I back up a step, gasping when I bump into someone. “S-sorry,” I mutter without looking, my eyes locked on the man I’ve stupidly given my heart to.

Is this what he does while I’m up at the restaurant?

Didn’t I see this exact thing play out in my mother’s life? She always seemed to date the worst men. Men who would flirt with other women behind her back, and she would spend days in bed, crying. I’d sit with her, eat ice cream, and watch movies all weekend. And months later, there’d be another one promising her the world, then betraying her the same way.

And now, it’s my turn.

Except Bishop never promised me the world. Not in so many words. He just made me feel like I was special. Made love to me like I was the most precious thing.

His head lifts and turns, and those blue eyes lock on mine. He starts to smile, but he must see something on my face, and it dies. When he moves toward me, the waitress catches his hand, attempting to stop him. I don’t wait to see whether it works.

I flee.

My chest is so tight it’s hard to breathe. Tears blur the edges of the room, and it takes forever to find the exit. My heart beats frantically as I run, hoping to keep as much distance between Bishop and me, nearly stumbling on my way to the bank of elevators.

I swipe at my cheeks when the tears spill, even as I fumble with the call button with the other. My fingers are clumsy and numb. I press hard on the cool metal like it’ll make any difference. When the doors slide open, I find some reprieve as I step into the empty silver box. I stab the button to the restaurant’s floor.

A hand shoots in before the doors can fully close.

My breath hitches as Bishop steps inside, and the urge to flee wars with a satisfying image of punching that stupidly handsome face. But I don’t want to hurt my hand. I use it to cook, and I’m not letting him take that from me too.

“Margot,” he starts, but I shake my head, unwilling to hear whatever it is he has to say.

He doesn’t let me ignore him as he steps into my space. “I don’t know what you think that was, but it’s not—”

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” I hug my arms to my chest and glare at the elevator, which couldn’t possibly move any slower. “It’s none of my business who you choose to flirt with. Go back to your business and leave me alone.”

“Will you let me explain?”

God, it’s a script. The same lines those men fed my mother. It’s a misunderstanding. Let me explain. She came on to me. Who would’ve thought I’d get my own version of it? “I don’t want to hear it,” I say, tapping my foot impatiently.

“Margot.” He reaches out for me, but I evade his touch because if he touches me, I’ll crumble. “Listen to me, sugar—”

“So, you can lie to me?” I hiss, glaring at him. “The way you’ve been lying to me for weeks? God, I must’ve been stupid to fall for a man like you. I knew it was a terrible idea, and the signs were there, but I ignored them. All you do is lie, Bishop!”

I read the first flash of hurt in his eyes, but it doesn’t register over my own.