Page 39 of Playing Pretend

“No,” I answer abruptly. “He’s leaving.”

She glances between us, her attention finally coming to rest on me with scrutiny. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine.” I nod. “But could you please bring another scotch for my boyfriend? He’ll be back in a minute.”

“Sure thing.” She’s hesitant to walk away, her slow steps giving me the hint she won’t leave me high and dry if I need help.

“Was that meant to be a warning?” Julian scoffs. “Do you think your date intimidates me? Why do you think you and I hit it off so fast in the first place?”

I take another glance around, praying none of our office counterparts are nearby. “What does that mean?”

“Rome,” he states simply. “He was the best damn thing about us.”

My gaze snaps back to his. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I didn’t stay with you because I enjoyed the pitiful sex, if that’s what you thought. I want the Bellefont contract, Piper, and you’re doing a damn good job of messing it up for me.”

All the blood drains from my face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he seethes. “I’m not a horrible person. Our relationship was real. To begin with, at least. The only thing I did wrong was stick around once I figured it wasn’t going to work.”

“And how long was that?” My question is barely audible.

“I don’t know. A few months.”

All the air leaves my lungs on a rapid surge.

He used me for financial gain? For sexual gratification? Formonths? “Why would you do that?”

“Why?” he accuses. “Maybe because Rome is all you ever spoke about. You constantly fed me hype about Bellefont and how your friendship meant that you couldn’t get in on the deal to sell anything he built. It became pretty clear you were hoping I’d get the contract so you could at least gain some sort of access to the company’s riches.”

I shake my head. I always speak about Rome because I’m proud of him. Because I admire him.

I would never think, let alone suggest, that Julian should be a realtor for Cavanaugh Sheffield Holdings. Maybe if we became a stable married couple. But in a barely functioning fling? No way in hell.

“From the first day we met you were throwing around his name,” he continues. “You bragged about the multimillion-dollar development he had under construction. Everyone knew you were fishing to find a boyfriend who could earn those commissions.”

My stomach churns as I continue shaking my head. Over and over. “That’s not what happened.”

“No? Then tell me your perspective, Piper. Tell me why almost every conversation came back to Rome? To his success? To the Bellefont development?”

Because he’s my friend.

The closest, non-related person in my life.

He’s my support. My comforter. My comedian. My tormentor.

Rome is everything.

“You need to walk away.” My phone vibrates in the pocket of my sundress. “Now.” I claim the device, holding it under the table as I read the message on screen.

Rome

Put him in his place.

Shit.I glance over my shoulder, trying to find him when my cell vibrates again.

Rome

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