Late Nights & Love Lines (Single Dad Hotline #2)

30. So many lies

30

SO MANY LIES

ROWAN

“ I ’m nervous,” I admit as we walk the red freaking carpet into the event. “I had no idea there would be a red carpet. Don’t women practice how to smile and how to walk and all that stuff?” I hiss the last bit from the corner of my mouth.

He tucks me into his chest, then leans down so his mouth is at my ear. The light bulb flashes are intense. This will be the pose that circulates in the press. My hand resting on his chest. His hand covering my own while I press my face into his shoulder.

It’ll be a great shot. I only wish it weren’t of me.

“Just smile, Peach. We’re almost to the door,” Seb whispers into my hair.

I force air into my lungs, then turn in his arm as more cameras flash.

“Right this way, Mr. Walker.” An attendant finally ushers us to the door.

“Oh my God.” I’m panting as though I just sprinted a mile.

“Sorry,” he says, taking my hand in his. “I forgot how the family running this event does things. They go all out to raise the most amount of money for their charities—even if that means exploiting its guests for a few minutes.”

“It—it was something.”

“Are you okay?” he asks. Concern crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I’m a nervous pee-er,” I blurt, and he takes a step back but doesn’t release my hand.

Good lord. What’s wrong with me?

“Okay. I’m not sure what that means.”

If I weren’t running on adrenaline right now, I’d probably laugh at the confusion on his face. “It means my brain tells me I have to pee a hundred times when I’m nervous even though I don’t.”

“So you need to use the restroom before we find our seats?”

My smile takes over my entire face, and my shoulders relax in relief. “Yes, thank you.”

Sebastian’s hand falls to my bare back and he aligns our steps as he guides me to the restroom.

“I’m sorry you’re nervous, Peach. I promise our second date will be more relaxing.”

“Awfully presumptuous, aren’t you?”

He smirks down at me. “Sweetheart, I can still taste you on my lips. There will be a second date.”

“Gah.” I glance around to see if anyone is paying attention to his dirty-talking mouth and make eye contact with a beautiful woman who winks at me. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask Seb under my breath, but a giggle slips free too.

“Nothing’s wrong with me, Peach. I’m not on dad duty, so I’m taking full advantage of our adult-only time.”

We stop outside the red double doors of the women’s restroom.

“Here, here.” The same woman who winked at me giggles to our left.

She’s a gorgeous redhead who stands in an emerald green dress on the arm of an equally gorgeous—but giant and a little scary—CIA-ish looking man.

“Come with me, we can trade dirty-talking stories,” she says conspiratorially.

My face must pale because her date groans. “Sloane, not everyone wants to talk about sex all the time.”

“Oh.” She pauses halfway into the restroom and scans my face before grabbing my arm and tugging me in with her. “Never mind him. He’s grumpy because the car ride was too short and we couldn’t test out a new scene.”

“A scene?” I squeak. “I thought this was a children’s charity.”

“Oh my God, Sloane. Stop scaring away our donors.” Another woman with kind eyes waves at us. “I’m Emory. My husband’s family puts on the gala. Ignore my sister. She’s a romance author on deadline, and she’s fishing for inspiration.”

“And no one is off-limits,” a third woman with a southern drawl says. “I’m Tilly, by the way. And Ems is right, ignore Sloane. Our inappropriate sister is always fishing for new material.”

Sloane turns a cheeky grin my way. “You never know when inspiration will hit.”

I nod, unable to speak. This might be the most bizarre bathroom encounter I’ve ever had, and now I don’t even have to pee anymore.

With a sigh, I make my way to the sink and touch up my lipstick that Sebastian smeared in the limo.

“We’ll see you out there,” Tilly calls over her shoulder as if we’re best friends. Once she leaves, the room falls into blissful silence.

It’s just me and one other woman, standing at the mirror fixing her hair. I try not to stare, but she appears to be struggling with a bobby pin that’s stuck.

“Do you need some help?” I ask, washing my hands quickly.

The woman glances my way, but her eyes are cold. “No, but thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to wearing wigs.”

She’s a beautiful woman, but scanning her face now, I notice she has no lashes or eyebrows either, and my heart pinches for her. I remember the pain of living through cancer.

“Well, if you need a break, come find me. I don’t mind hiding out in the bathroom all night.” I laugh. “I don’t really fit in out there.”

The woman stares at me with a strange twinkle in her eyes. “I think you’ll fit in everywhere,” she says, then exits the restroom.

I grab a hand towel to dry my hands, then follow her. When I reach for the door, a mop in the corner crashes to the floor.

Stupid, stupid superstitions. I’m not having company—not here.

This place is stressing me out and I haven’t even entered the gala yet. Forget nervous peeing, I’m not leaving Sebastian’s side from now on. Opening the door, I find him leaning against the wall halfway down the hallway, talking to the couple we met on our way in.

When he sees me in the doorway, he waves me over and hands me a cocktail.

“Have you met our hosts?” he asks, nodding at the sisters.

“Oh, we met. Luckily, we grabbed her before Sloane could really dig for information,” Tilly says with a grin. She hitches a thumb my way. “I like her.”

What? She barely knows me.

“What are the chances of me getting a meeting with your husband?” Seb blurts.

I frown while staring at him. He must be desperate if he’s willing to forgo manners and use any connection he has.

“Zero,” Tilly says with a chuckle. “He hates people.” She turns smiling eyes my way. “But I’ll tell you what, if you come back to this hotel tomorrow around one, I’ll get a few minutes with him. We live upstairs, and the restaurant has the best brunch in town.”

“That’s…wow. That would be great. Thank you,” Seb says.

“Oh, I’m not doing it for you, Seb. I like Rowan, and I’ve met some of my best friends in bathrooms, so I have a good feeling about her.” She winks at me, and I feel my shoulders relax.

But it’s such a random thing to say. Who meets friends in public bathrooms?

“Okay,” Sloane interrupts. “Let’s get in there so I can get some material for the story I’m working on. People-watching is the best way to get inspiration.” She winks in my direction, and I have a feeling what she overheard earlier might be fodder for whatever story she’s working on.

Sebastian wraps an arm around my shoulders as we say our goodbyes, then watch them walk away.

His laugh instantly puts me at ease. “I don’t know them well, but both times I’ve met those women, Sloane has had boundary issues. I’m pretty sure she’s harmless though.”

I nod, scanning our surroundings while my mind replays the events of the last few minutes.

“Ready?” he asks. When I nod, he leads me through another set of double doors that opens to something straight out of Never Land.

Holy crap. It’s beautiful in here. Fairy lights twinkle from above, and delicate rows of ivy scale the walls.

“The sisters are part of the family that puts on the gala,” Seb continues, nodding toward an obscenely long table that runs down the center of the room. “They’ll all sit there.”

“That’s a big family.”

“You’re telling me.”

“We’re at table twenty-two,” he says, ushering me forward.

I almost stumble over my stilettos. Why? What have I done to the number gods this time? The number twenty-two hangs over my head—a flashing neon sign warning of bad omens.

Nothing good happens with the number twenty-two, hasn’t anyone else realized this? Someone really needs to ban it like they do the number thirteen on elevators.

“Here we are,” Sebastian says, oblivious to the bad omen clinging to me tighter than my dress. He pulls out my chair, and I sink into it with his hand on my shoulder, but when he doesn’t slide the chair in, I lean back to peer up at him.

His face is white, and the grip on my shoulder begins to ache. “Sebastian,” I whisper, attempting to lower my shoulder from his grasp.

He removes his fingers one at a time as though it’s taking him great effort to do so.

“Are you okay?” I place my clutch on the table and attempt to stand, but he holds me down in my chair. That’s when I realize he’s not even looking at me.

Following his gaze, I find the woman from the restroom, nervously fidgeting with a napkin next to me, and beside her is a man wearing a sneer so bitter I recoil.

“What did I tell you, Mya?” Sebastian’s words slice through the air as menacing as a murderer.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she says. Her hands shake more violently, and then his words hit me.

Mya.

As in his ex-wife?

“You spoke to him?” the man to her left hisses. “You fucking called him?”

Sebastian takes a seat to my right. His right hand is balled into a fist at his side, but he uses his left hand to drag my chair as far away from Mya as he can get it.

The man next to Mya snarls in my direction, but he barely registers as I tilt my gaze back to Sebastian. The muscles around his eyes are tight, and the vein in his throat throbs to an angry rhythm.

“Do you even care that Miles could have died?” Sebastian asks through clenched teeth.

Curiosity has me turning toward Mya, and I register the shock on her face. She didn’t know about Miles.

“You won’t get Coleman Industries back, no matter what you think you’re about to pull off here,” the stranger at our table chuckles.

“I’m not here to fucking talk to you, Nick.”

My heart flip-flops in my chest. The two people Sebastian trusted above all else. The two people who crushed his trust as if it were nothing sit glaring—Nick at Sebastian, and Mya at the table.

Placing my hand on Sebastian’s thigh, I squeeze, then squeeze again when he doesn’t look at me. It takes three more attempts before he registers the contact, and he glances down at me. His gaze softens a touch.

I lean into his chest, and he wraps a protective arm around me. “She’s sick,” I whisper. “Mya, she’s sick.”

His gaze snaps to his ex-wife, and I study him as he scans her features. Her cheeks are hollow, her skin tone a little gray, but it’s the wig that she didn’t bother to finish adjusting that gives her away.

A myriad of emotions play across his features, but he locks them all tightly behind a mask when an older man joins the table and takes the seat next to him.

Threading the fingers of his left hand through mine, he turns to the newcomer. “Mr. Coleman, it’s nice to see you again, sir.”

Sebastian slips into businessman mode without a backward glance while I’m left sitting mute and suffering the worst case of emotional whiplash known to man.

“You too, Sebastian. You too. Sorry to hear the two of you parted ways though,” Mr. Coleman says, waving a hand between Sebastian and Nick. “I can’t say I’m overly fond of either of your new partners, but luckily, it’s not my decision any longer now that Jacob has finally grown up and taken over."

“Where is Jacob tonight?” Nick asks bluntly, speaking over Mr. Coleman, and even I can tell the guy is out for himself tonight.

The older man barely acknowledges his presence, and it fills me with a smugness I have no right to, but Sebastian is clearly the better man here.

“They’ll be along,” Mr. Coleman says without sparing Nick a second glance. “That pretty daughter-in-law of mine is a camera magnet. I’m sure they got caught up in the media tent.”

An MC takes the stage in a three-piece suit that appears to have been sewn on him, but my mind won’t stop focusing on the tension at this table.

My chest aches for Sebastian and the kids. I’m pissed off on Sebastian’s behalf that Mya and Nick are even here. There are so many emotions fighting for dominance, I don’t notice until halfway through the MC’s speech that a new couple has joined us. When I reach for my water glass, I see her, staring at me with the same malice she honed to perfection in our youth.

My hands shake, and water spills over the edge onto Sebastian’s pant leg.

He doesn’t make a scene when it happens, he simply takes the cup from my hand and tugs me to him. I hear his voice but not his words as my entire world comes crashing into me from all sides. Memories and nightmares clash with the vision in front of me, and all I can do is stare at the smirk I’d hoped I’d never have to see again.

Haley Ford.

My stepsister.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Sebastian’s words cut through the panic when he places his lips to my ear. With his cheek resting on mine, I close my eyes and allow my body to sync with his for a count of three.

“Sebastian.” Mr. Coleman calls our attention to him, but I stare straight ahead. “Let me introduce you to my son, Jacob Coleman, and his wife, Haley.”

My entire body trembles. Lie after lie piles up until I’m sure my lungs have reached their bursting point. This can’t be happening, it can’t. What have I ever done to the universe to deserve this kind of punishment? All of this shitty cosmic karma can fuck right off.

“Coleman?” I whisper and look at Jake.

Haley’s manic laugh makes me shiver. She used to laugh that way every time I got in trouble with her father.

“You lied to me about your name ?”

“Row, it wasn’t like that,” Jake, or Jacob, or whatever the fuck his name is, says.

“Jacob,” the older man hisses, scanning the table as fury ignites in his irises. Was this all a game to them?

“What’s going on here?” Sebastian asks. “You know them?” His gaze ping-pongs around the table. “Rowan, how the hell do you know them?”

My internal tremors force their way to the forefront, and my arms tremble no matter how hard I hold myself.

“Oh, grow up, Rowan. You don’t belong here anyway. Playing the victim isn’t becoming. Didn’t my father teach you anything?” Haley’s words are laser-sharp and strike just as she intended.

My heart buzzes in my chest. It’s no longer attached to my soul, it just flutters there, building up speed until it’s ready to deliver the final sting.

“Watch it,” Sebastian growls.

“I—I don’t belong here,” I whisper, no longer able to sit still. “I—I—I’m going to be sick.”

Standing abruptly, I hurry in the direction of the restroom, but I only make it to the hallway before a hand on my elbow whirls me around.

“Let me explain,” Jake says. How is he here? I don’t understand.

“Get your hands off of my girl.” Sebastian curses when a server wheels a cart right in front of him. Jake immediately lifts his hands, and he and Sebastian collide.

Chest to chest, they hurl accusations at one another, too blinded by pride and anger to ask questions.

“Sebastian will go bankrupt without that deal,” Haley hisses in my ear. “His old partner made sure everything he has is tied into it.” She’s slithered to my side like the snake that she is. “And I’ll make damn sure my husband won’t do business with him if he’s got a hard-on for you. What does that say about his judgment?” She steps into my space and lowers her voice even more. “Or perhaps I’ll take Sebastian to bed too before I watch his empire burn…just because I can.”

The buzzing in my ears overwhelms all of my emotions until I stop feeling and can only react.

“You told me your name was Jake Cole for two years,” I say, sidestepping Haley and walking between my ex and Sebastian. “We lived together, Jake, and you lied to me about your name for two fucking years? Forget fucking my stepsister. You couldn’t even give me your real goddamn name?”

The man I thought I would marry runs a hand through his hair as if he’s truly torn, but now I see his actions for the lies that they are.

“We won’t work with her.” Haley aims her venom at Sebastian. “And I know how much you have riding on this investment.” He glares down at her but says nothing. “Get rid of the trash, and then we’ll talk. You have one week to decide.”

“Who knew you’d make this so damn easy for me, Seb?” Nick stands on the other end of the hallway, but Mya is nowhere to be found.

“Someone had better start explaining. Right. Fucking. Now.” Sebastian’s face is so red it’s nearly purple.

Something inside of me has broken, and I can’t hide it this time.