I stare at the sidewalk, at my feet as we walk. I’m barefoot. My thigh highs are in my right hand. I don’t really consider where I step. Jesse steers me around things that might puncture my feet.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he finally asks as we walk up my front stairs.
Leaning on the door, I turn back to him. “Why’d I let him do it? Why did I let him get to me like this? I can’t get him out of my head. He’s always there. His voice is always there echoing inside my mind.” I glance up at him and say what I’m thinking. “I’m an idiot. Sottero is right. She calls me Anna Idiot, you know, and she’s right. Only a total idiot, I mean a prime, grade A, kind of idiot would fall in love with a guy twice her age who doesn’t even like her. How am I supposed to deal with this? I don’t even know what to do, Jesse. There was no relationship. No breakup. There should be nothing to get over, but I feel like I’ve had my guts ripped out.”
As I speak, I slide down the door and sit on the front stoop. It’s nearly 3:00am and New York is as sleepy as it’s going to get. A couple walks hand in hand down the street, their faces close as they whisper to each other.
Jesse sits next to me and runs his hands through his hair. “Anna, you had a relationship. It’s normal to feel something when it’s over. It doesn’t matter what he says, I see it when he looks at you. He wanted you. He wants you still. I have no idea what’s holding him back, but I can’t say I’m not happy about it.” I lean on his shoulder and he puts his arm around me.
I sigh. “You sure you don’t want to be the rebound guy? All sex, no strings attached?”
He laughs, “You don’t want a rebound guy. They have herpes.”
This pulls a smile to my lips and I look up at him. He’s grinning at me. “Just wait a little longer. Deal with one thing at a time. Wait out Sottero, then deal with the rest.” I nod, accepting his plan, because I don’t know what else to do.
CHAPTER 12
The knock on my bedroom door sounds like cannon fire. I groan for Emma to go away, but she comes in anyway. Crossing the room, she quickly flicks on a light. I bury my head under my pillow.
“Go away, Em.”
“Can’t babe,” she says and sits on the edge of my bed. “You need to get up.” The tone of her voice is wrong, even with the mind-splitting headache, I can hear it.
Glancing out from beneath the covers I ask, “What’s wrong?”
She hands me a newspaper, but I don’t understand. I sit up slowly and grab my head. The paper slips off my lap. Emma picks it up and gives it to me again. “Look, Anna.”
I force my eyes to focus and see a picture of Cole. The headline says MULTIMILLIONAIRE COLE STEVENS IS RUINED. My heart lurches as I clutch the paper and gasp. Turning to Emma, I ask, “What is this?”
She has that look on her face that parents have when they have to tell their kid that their puppy died. My stomach churns and I feel sick. She takes my hand like I’ll need her support. “I don’t know. It says that Cole was in a lawsuit and settled. His properties were awarded to the other party as part of the settlement. Le Femme is gone.”
“Oh, my God,” I can’t think. I can’t breathe. Wildly, I try to read the article, but my eyes won’t focus. “Who’s the other party? Who’d he settle with?”
“Sophia Sottero.”
The name smacks into me like a frying pan. “What? Sophia? How? What does it say? I can’t fucking see!” Tears sting my eyes and even the headline blurs.
“It doesn’t have all the details, but it sounds like they’ve been in a dispute for years and Cole finally settled to keep it out of court. His assets are going to be liquidated to pay off the settlement. It looks like a rape charge that was hushed. The article claims the nature of the attack was private and Sottero didn’t comment to the paper this morning.”
“That’s why she gave me the day off.” I rub the heel of my hand into my eyes. “I can’t believe this.”
Emma sits next to me and says nothing. Her hand is on my shoulder, then she just looks at me with sympathy. “Did he hurt you?” The question makes something inside of me snap.
“No!” I scream in her face. “He didn’t fucking touch me!”
She holds her palms up, “Sorry, I didn’t know how to ask and after reading this... forgive me, but I saw the way he looks at you. I just want to make sure you are okay.”
There it is again, that same phrase—the way he looks at me. I shake my head and instantly regret it. “How does he look at me, Em? Like an intern? Like a student? Like he can’t stand the sight of me?”