Page 81 of Falling for the Bad Boy
“Trinity, wait.” He caught up to me at the door. “I’m so sorry. I want to fix this. When Wyatt made me the offer to be a partner, it was before I really knew you. I figured you were in it for fun.”
“Why? Because you figured I might want something more from my life than sunbathing on the beach or picking up the scraps my family leaves behind for me? Is that what you thought of me? That I was just messing around?” It all made sense now. He was just like my family. They all thought I was crazy for wanting to build something that meant something to me, to my grandmother. Something that might stand the test of time.
“No, that’s not it at all. I just figured Wyatt and I needed this building more than you did. But now I know you.”
I jerked my hand out of his grasp and pulled the door open. “That’s rich, don’t you think?”
“Let me fix it. I can help, I?—”
“You’ve done enough.” I shoved my bra into my purse. “And the irony isn’t lost on me for a second. You say you did all of this before you got to know me.”
He nodded.
“You really don’t know me at all.”
Then I stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut behind me. I didn’t wait to see if he’d come after me—I needed to get out of there, and fast. My lungs burned from lack of air. As I stumbled down the stairs that would lead me into the bar, I tried to catch my breath before the tears started to fall. I didn’t want to waste any more energy on Oliver Martin. He didn’t deserve my tears, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve my forgiveness.
His actions might have set me back, but I was a survivor. I’d been taking care of myself for years, and I wasn’t going to stop now. There had to be a way to get my inventory back. Macy would help. In all of this, she’d been the only one who hadn’t turned her back.
CHAPTER 36
Oliver
I woke the next morning to a sliver of sunshine falling directly across my eyes. How could the sun still be shining when my world had fallen apart overnight? I’d wanted to call her last night but knew she wouldn’t answer. Not that I blamed her. I’d fucked up. And I never did anything half-assed. When I screwed up, I went all in. But how the hell was I supposed to fix it?
I’d stayed up until dawn started creeping into the eastern sky, trying to figure out how I could earn her back.
First, I needed to shut Wyatt down for good. Even if Tapped moved across town and secured the other warehouse, there was no way I could be a part of it. Not now. With my visa expiring soon, I needed to fix things for Trinity while I still had the chance.
But if I walked out on Wyatt, I’d have nowhere to live until my visa was up. I couldn’t very well salvage Trinity’s business while living on the streets. Which meant I had to bite my tongue and bide my time before I could tell Wyatt to go fuck himself.
Then there was the missing inventory. I knew what she’d ordered and from where. I’d seen it in her paperwork. I’d just call the company and beg them to attempt another delivery. It couldn’t be that hard.
I dragged myself out of bed. Signs that she’d been here were everywhere. The glass she’d drunk from sat in the sink, rimmed with a pink imprint from her lips. Her favorite coffee mug—the black sheep one I’d shared with her the second time we met—waited next to the coffee pot for her to fill it with her special blend of brew.
I funneled my hands through my hair, wishing I’d kept my damn mouth shut the night before. I’d have to come clean with her eventually, but why couldn’t I have waited until I’d gotten Wyatt settled somewhere else first?
Shit. I hadn’t heard back from Wyatt last night about the pitch I wanted to make to the investors. I searched for my phone and finally found it between the cushions of the couch. Must have fallen out of my pocket last night as Trinity and I were… no. I couldn’t let my mind go there. Not until I’d smoothed things over with her.
Ten texts from Wyatt. Three missed calls. What the hell?
I pressed the button to return the call. Wyatt answered on the first ring.
“Don’t bother packing your bag for California. They’re out.” His voice came through gruff, like he’d been yelling—or drinking—all night long.
“What do you mean? Those numbers were solid.”
“Not solid enough. Seems one of the other guys came across a more lucrative opportunity, and they’re going to pursue that venture instead.” He cleared his throat. “I’m fucked.”
I tried to come up with something—anything—to salvage the plan. “Why not use some of the seating area? If you take out the stage, you can fit a starter system. Kick off with just a few different brews and see how it goes.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Wyatt laughed.
“Get what?” It was too damn early, and I was too broken to try to follow along with any of the mind games he wanted to toss out.
“I’m out of options. The space next door is my only choice. You’re obviously not cut out to do what needs to be done, so I’m taking matters into my own hands.”
A cannonball-sized weight thudded to the bottom of my stomach. “What are you talking about? We can still figure a way out of this.”
