Page 9 of Villainous Summer

In the dreary, slick streets of London, when I had little to lean on, I thought so. But being back home, with my support system in place, all I could feel was wounded pride. How dare he think I would be okay with him cheating?

“Summer, a guest needs to speak with you,” Angie called from the front.

As I rose, I shoved my feet back into my low heels. Rounding the corner, I smoothed over my crisp white shirt tucked into my black slacks.

I stilled when I saw it wasn’t just any guest.

No, as if I conjured him from my ire alone, Cory was on the other side of the marble barrier, his brown eyes boring into me.

While I wasn’t sure what he would say, the chance that my response would be something unprofessional was likely.

On more than one occasion, he would talk on his phone while ordering a drink at the coffee shop, so he wouldn’t have an issue saying whatever he wanted in front of my employees.

“Mr. Thompson, why don’t I show you our courtyard? The tulips are especially lovely.”

Not giving him a chance to disagree, I stepped out the side door and into the small garden area as he followed. Once it shut behind us, I dropped my professional smile.

Arms crossed over my chest, I glared at him and raised a brow. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Kodi wanted to check this place out for the wedding.”

“And you agreed?”

“You said you don’t work on Tuesdays.”

I tapped my pinky nail with my thumb. “There is no such thing as a set schedule in hospitality. I work when I need to work, which means I’m always here.”

“Oh.” He kicked the wandering path’s gravel.

“Can you not do that? I’ll have to get our grounds crew to fix it.”

“Sorry.” He looked down, chagrined, then back up with big sad eyes. Eyes that used to work on me but had since made my skin crawl. “How have you been?”

“Busy.” I trained my face to remain passive.

If I had allowed any of the emotions out, I wasn’t sure what I would do. A coiling heat formed in my stomach, my ears getting hot.

I should have sent a code vermilion instead of chartreuse.

“You don’t have to be rude. I was only being friendly.”

Friendly? Why on earth would I be?

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Summer.”

I realized I had spoken aloud. Just as well. There was no reason to hide how I felt.

Digging my nails into my arm through my shirt, I glared at him. “Where’s your fiancée?”

“Her mom called. She’ll be chatting with her for at least ten more minutes.” Cory shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You haven’t responded to my texts.”

“Because I blocked you.”

Boredom dripped from my words as I stared him down.

What were the pressure points you went for in an attack? Groin, solar plexus, nose, and what?

He tsked at me, shaking his head. “You don’t need to be like that.”

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