Page 58 of Meet Your Match
My jaw nearly hit the floor of the cab.
“Excuseme?”
“I’m just telling you to be careful.”
“Be careful,” I repeated. I actually could not believe the audacity of this man.
“Look, I understand how guys like him tick. I also know you’ve worked your ass off to get where you are.”
“Don’t act like you know anything about me anymore,” I spat.
“I just don’t want you to jeopardize your career because he’s spinning all the right webs and saying all the right things.”
“Oh, the way you did?”
The words popped out of me so quick, I didn’t have time to think about whether I actually wanted to say them or not. What I should have done was hang up. But instead, I was starting a fight like I wanted it, like I still cared about him and what happened between us.
It felt like showing my hand.
It felt like losing.
And it made me grit my teeth so hard I nearly chipped one in the process.
“I loved you,” James said, his voice just above a whisper. “You know that.”
“No, I don’t,” I clipped, fuming. “Thanks for your concern, but it’s no longer needed. You were the one who exited my life, James, so at least have the decency to stay gone.”
I hung up before he could respond, immediately blocking his number just in case he tried to call back. Then, I threw my phone in my purse and let out a frustrated growl that turned into a high-pitched scream.
My driver eyed me in the rearview mirror, and I muttered an apology just as he pulled up to the skyscraper I was calling home for the month. I tipped him graciously before kicking the door open and lugging my bag out of the trunk, dragging it behind me like it was a weapon, and I was going into a street fight.
I stewed the entire way up the elevator, flinging my bag into the foyer once I’d made it to the condo. I nearly cried at the sight of the place — all the furniture and art and appliances that weren’t mine. Everything was modern and expensive and cold, nothing like my bungalow that was just a twenty-minute walk from the beach, and tears pricked my eyes before anger washed them away again.
I roared, kicking off my shoes and pacing as I dragged my hands over my hair. I was so fuckingpissed— at my parents, at James, at Vince, atmyself. One night. One stupid photo and everything was blown to shit.
And Iknewin that moment what I should have done.
I should have gone for a walk. I should have gone to the beach. I should have rolled out my yoga mat and found poses to ground myself. I should have meditated. I should have called Livia.
I should have done a million other things.
But what Iactuallydid was pick up my phone and open Instagram.
Because I didn’t want to calm down.
I wanted to rage.
I wantedpayback.
And I didn’t stop to think about the repercussions until it was too late.
CHAPTER 19
SUCH A LITTLE BRAT
Vince
Coach McCabe looked ready to blow a gasket.
