Page 47 of Hard Deal
His expression turned to stone. “What about her?”
“I heard...” She swallowed and clutched the towel tight to her chest. “One of the girls said...”
Crud. That wasn’t right either, and with each false start he grew increasingly distant. Caleb was shutting down. But she had to know. If this went any further—like she’d started to hope it might—then she needed reassurance he wasn’t a cheater.
“You were talking about me?” he said. “Gossiping.”
How could she possibly deny it? She wrung her hands. “I usually try to stay out of that stuff. You know that.”
“And yet you’re still asking me to explain myself.” She’d expected him to look angry but instead he was cold. Expressionless. “Fine. Ask if you need to know so badly.”
This was her fork in the road—if she asked the question, it would be as good as admitting she didn’t trust him. But if she didn’t, she’d always wonder. And then their relationship would be certain to fail because she’d let the uncertainty eat away at her like she’d done last time. The scars were still too raw and too fresh.
And the fact was, she didn’t trust him because she didn’t trust anyone. Ever.
“Did you cheat on her?”
“I say no, she says yes.” His eyes bore right into hers—unwavering and unyielding. It was like being physically flattened, like being a butterfly stretched out and pinned down. Trapped behind glass. “We were dating. I found out that she told people in the office that she wanted to be with Jason but when he wasn’t interested, she came after me. Neila was a social climber, and she wanted to find a way into my family.”
Imogen cringed. “Oh.”
“I sent her a message saying it was over and that I didn’t want to hear any excuses. I went out and got hammered and did some stupid things because I was hurt.” He paused. “She claims she didn’t get the message and that she never said any such things about me.”
“And you don’t believe her?”
“I find it convenient that a serial texter who always carried a spare battery for her phone didn’t get the message that one time.” He shrugged. “But I overheard her. And when I asked Jason he admitted that she’d come onto him a few times before we started dating. I won’t be someone’s consolation prize. But she decided that I cheated on her and so that’s what she told everyone.”
“It wasn’t that you got bored with her?”
Caleb laughed but the sound had none of the warm baritone she’d grown to crave. This time it was flat and metallic, like an imitation of the real thing. “Would it be better for you to think of me as some asshole who chews women up and spits them out? Would that make it easier for you to walk away? Because I’m not going to make it easy, Imogen. I’m not going to tell you what you want to hear so that you can keep living in the past.”
“I’m not living in the past.”
“No? So why were you chasing your sister’s fiancé all over town, thinking that he cheated on her?”
“I saw him with a woman,” she protested.
“Doing what? Having a drink?” He threw his hands in the air. “You’ve sent yourself on a wild-goose chase for nothing. He’s madly in love with your sister and I would be surprised if he’d ever cheated on her.”
“But what about the blonde woman, the one from the bar last night?”
The second Caleb’s expression changed, she knew she’d stepped over a line. “You were there?”
“The assistants wanted to grab a drink after work. I didn’t know you’d be there.”
“You didn’t come over and say hello.” He frowned. “But you were watching long enough to see who I was with. Were you spying on me or Daniel?”
She gulped. “It’s a public space. I wasn’t spying.”
“No? Because that would be twice now.”
This conversation was going downhill, fast. And Imogen had a feeling it was going to hurt when she landed.
Would he be so angry if he had nothing to hide? How can you trust him? How can you trust anyone ever again?
“I wasn’t spying,” she repeated through gritted teeth.
“But you don’t trust me. You were here all night and you never once mentioned that you saw me—were you waiting to see if I’d tell the truth that there was a woman with us?”