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Did he really just turn me down?

My skin burns with embarrassment. “Right. Of course.” I rush to climb out of the truck, but he grabs my wrist to stop me.

“Wait...”

My whole body goes still. But after a long moment, he sighs and releases my wrist.

Which somehow makes the rejection feel a million times worse.

Without another word, I slam the truck door and take off toward the pool house. “See you at work.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Kira

Good news! I secured you and Augustus a featured spread in the November edition of Beauty and Bliss Magazine! The photo shoot will be in New York as soon as your program is finished. Fwd you the details now.

Hope you’re getting some rest in because we’re going to be hitting the ground running as soon as you get back!

—Claire

A normal person would probably be excited about that news, considering it’s the reason I’m here at all. Securing a featured spread in one of the most sought-after lifestyle magazines is no easy feat and has the power to stop any rumors of my imploding marriage in their tracks.

This is exactly what we’ve been working for, exactly the type of press I need to remind the public that if I’m worthy of Hollywood’s golden boy, Augustus Wilde, then I can’t be that bad.

There may not be a silver bullet to fix the public’s perception of me, but this has got to be the next best thing.

I should be happy to have an agent who’s fighting for me behind the scenes. I should be grateful that Augustus has decided to play nice, at least publicly. He may be making this divorce as slow and painful as possible, draining me dry with all the legal fees and hoops he’s making me jump through. But at least he’s cooperating to help repair my reputation. Besides, if I want out, then I’m going to need money to make that happen. Which means I need people to believe that I’m hirable.

So, as I said, I should be happy about this news. This is one less thing to worry about from the heaping pile of shit I’m dealing with. So why can’t I make myself care?

Probably because my brain is too busy trying to figure out what happened the other night. I’ve been replaying our interaction over and over in my mind, and I can’t figure out where the change-up came from. I practically gave him the green light when I told him about my divorce.

I strum my fingers against the countertop as I stare out the window, my eyes locked on Roman’s house.

I may have been in a relationship for most of my adult life, but even so, I can’t say I’m used to feeling rejected. I know I don’t have any right to feel this way.

He’s my boss, for Christ’s sake. Of course he’d want to create some healthy boundaries between us.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him to at least struggle with his decision a little more than he seemed to, anyway.

I know it’s fucked up…and probably a little bratty…but dammit, I’m not used to being told no. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about it.

Matilda interrupts my mini-spiral with an annoyed groan.

“What’s your problem?”

She spins in a circle and lies down at my feet. When she looks back up at me, I can practically hear her judgmental tone. Desperation is not a good look, Kira. I thought you were better than this.

“Yeah…well…” I don’t really have much of an argument, and I hate losing. So I scoop a spoonful of peanut butter from the nearby jar and make sure she’s watching before I lick it clean.

Nose turned up, looking absolutely outraged, she stomps all four feet and lets out a howl of disgruntlement.

I roll my eyes and chuckle. Of course, the universe would send me a dog that fights with me like a sister.

“Oh, did I take it too far?” I kiss her on top of her head, then reach for another scoop of peanut butter and offer it like a peace treaty. “I think we’re both sorry, aren’t we?”

She side-eyes me as she licks the spoon clean, but when she’s finished, she seems pleased enough that she lies at my feet.