Page 2 of How to Play the Player

She stiffens at my formal address. Good. Sheshouldbe uncomfortable. After all, she knows what she did.

“I-I didn’t expect to see you here.” She doesn’t quite meet my eyes. Out of nervousness or guilt? I can’t be sure.

“Last minute change of plans.” I keep my voice clipped, professional. No doubt, as a PR consultant, she’s looking for new industry gossip to exploit, new client secrets to trade for career advancement. A year hasn’t dulled the sting of that particular lesson. “Why are you here?”

She takes a steadying breath, squaring those delicate shoulders. “Like you, I’m promoting myself.”

“Hope they know what they’re getting themselves into,” I murmur.

Her brows draw together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No need to play dumb with me, sweetie.” The endearment comes out of my mouth sharp enough to cut. “Tell me, do you warn your clients about you spilling their secrets before or after you take their money?”

“A bastard as always, I see.” She shakes her head. “Despite what you still believe, I didn’t do it.”

Before Quinn, I was never a man easily swayed, in business or my personal life. Mia loves comparing me to Mr. Darcy pre-Elizabeth Bennet, calling me outwardly cold and controlled. I prefer to think of it as cautious with a healthy dose of cynicism, both traits that would’ve served me better a year ago had I been more careful.

“Still keeping up the lie, huh? After all this time? Wow, you deserve an award, for sure.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hurt flashing across her face before she can hide it. “You just have to blame me for every time you don’t get your way, now do you?”

“I’m not the one who screwed me over.”

Rage flickers over her expression, then is quickly reined in. “I’m sorry that happened to your brother’s company, but I’m not at fault.”

“Oh, so it’s mine. Got it.” I scoff, remembering those dark days after the NorthStar deal fell apart.

A year ago, I thought Quinn Sanders was the woman I’d marry. We’d only been together twelve months, but she’d become my anchor, my safe harbor in the storm of growing a tech empire. No other woman had ever come close.

Knight Industries had been on the verge of closing a deal that would’ve cemented our place among the industry leaders across the world. Jake, Jonathan, and I knew landing thisclient would finally force long-established companies to take us seriously. The contract was all but signed—I’d even planned a celebration with Quinn for after the ink dried. But the day before final signatures, the client pulled out without warning, citing a privacy violation after details of the deal were leaked and had gone viral on social media. Every bit of confidential information I’d shared with Quinn in a moment of misplaced trust was suddenly public knowledge.

I’d placed not just my faith in her completely, but also my heart, my future, and my company’s secrets. That faith was shattered the moment I connected the dots. Only one person outside the core team and the client had known the exact details.

Quinn.

All because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. The one time I’d chosen not to keep business and personal life separate and told the woman I’d planned to marry something she was never supposed to know about, I got fucked over.

I won’t make that mistake again.

“I understand the conclusion you’d come to.” Her voice wavers slightly. “But if we were over right then and there, the least you could’ve done was tell me that to my face. You didn’t have to ghost and humiliate me by posting on social-media—for the whole world to see—you making out and partying with multiple women.”

Her reminder stings, but I rationalize it under remembered betrayal.

Jake, Jonathan, and I tried everything to salvage the NorthStar deal over the course of the following hellish week. But in the end, nothing could undo the damage. I spent days—months—debating with myself whether to hate her or loathe myself as I drowned in anger and shame.

Facing my brother and Jake, after gathering the courage to own up to my mistake, was one of the hardest moments ofmy life. But they surprised me. Rather than show the anger that I was convinced I deserved, they thanked me for coming clean instead of running away. My brother’s forgiveness was something I struggled with accepting.

But once I did, only the anger remained, razor-sharp and consuming. So I did what any wounded man would do—I made sure the world knew I was single and down to fuck. I didn’t care who I hurt in the process, least of all if she saw what I was doing. And based on this conversation, the message was well received.

“It seemed only fair since you embarrassed me first.”

She pauses, visibly fighting back tears. “Have fun with your whore of the night, whoever she is.” Before I can respond, she turns and walks away, her heels clicking rapidly against the polished floor.

Good riddance.

I spend the rest of the day greeting clients, answering technical questions, and catching up with industry contacts. The constant interaction helps keep my mind off Quinn. At least until tonight, when work can no longer distract me from my thoughts. Then I’ll let the premium vodka and a nameless woman help me forget.

Chapter Two

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