Arrogant Playboy(18)

“You love him?”

I’m not sure why he cares. My face pinches. “Of course I love him.”

“No, you don’t.”

We should be discussing this website, not my love life.

“Yes.” My words sharpen against my tongue. “I do love him. And please don’t suggest otherwise. You and I are hardly more than strangers.”

“Right. I don’t know you. But I do know that a woman in love doesn’t run out and sleep with the first guy she meets at a random bar.”

“Should I be doodling hearts? Skipping? Humming love songs?”

“You look miserable,” he says.

“So do you.” It’s not true. He looks perfectly content with his single-in-the-city lifestyle. “I love Jeremiah, it’s just difficult not knowing what’s going to happen with our relationship. I just want an answer, and he’s not ready to give me one.”

“Why would you waste your time with someone who doesn’t know if he wants to be with you?” Beckham’s eyes squint. “Makes no sense, especially for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“You don’t take shit from anyone, but you’re going to take it from some asshole because he got down on his knee and gave you a ring?”

The last thing I expected when I came to work this morning was to have to defend my commitment to making things work with Jeremiah.

“We’ve been together since college. I can’t imagine spending my future with anyone else.” I speak about Jeremiah with a tone void of emotion because I refuse to get worked up about this here, in front of Beckham. “His circumstances have recently changed, and he’s re-evaluating his life goals.”

“Let me guess, he’s coming into his career, got a taste of success, isn’t sure he’ll have the time to commit to your relationship now, and it’s not fair to you.” Beckham leans back, threading his fingers behind his head with a proud smirk across his lips.

My jaw hangs, rendering me speechless.

“He fed you that line of bullshit, did he?” Beckham’s smirk fades.

When Jeremiah said those words Friday night they made perfect sense. His touch was tender, right along with his delivery.

I want to believe it was authentic.

“Odessa. Come. On.” Beckham leans forward. “I fucking invented that line. Please tell me you didn’t fall for it. He’s stringing you along until he finds something more exciting. Guarantee you he’s got something in the works and he’s keeping you on ice in case it falls through.”

My bottom lip trembles, the hint of a tingle zipping across it as my eyes burn. I’ve stayed strong, and I’m not about to lose my cool in front of him of all people.

I drag in a cool breath and force it away, summoning every ounce of strength I have. I refuse to appear weak in front of Beckham. For all I know, he’s still hung up on me, and he’s looking for an ‘in.’ Can’t think of a more perfect opportunity than a broken hearted girl fresh off a called-off engagement.

“Believe me, my eyes are wide open. I’m not naïve,” I say, fighting the burn in my throat. “But when you love someone, you fight for them. You believe in them. You trust them to do the right thing with your heart.”

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have it all wrong.”

“I have what all wrong?”

“Everything.” He rises, adjusting the knot of his tie after tugging on his collar. His jester expression dissipates, and he takes weighted steps toward his window. “Don’t live in a bubble, Odessa. All those people out there...” He slips his hands into his pockets, peering out his window toward his expansive view of the city. “Those people don’t give a fuck about you or me or anyone. Everyone’s in it for themselves. The sooner you accept that and the sooner you do the same, the happier you’ll be.”

The room feels darker, heavier.

Last Friday when I Googled Beckham, I didn’t find much beyond some old online gossip articles about his engagement with a hotel heiress named Sophie Glass. Nothing but rumors and speculation about the details surrounding their cancelled wedding. I’d meant to sift through the photos but Devin called before I had a chance and later I scolded myself for wasting my curiosity digging into Beckham’s ancient history.

For a moment, I wonder if he’s thinking about her.

I rise, gathering my folders, papers, notebook, and tablet. I need to go back to my desk and get some real work done. “I’m going to see if I can get Charity Falls on the phone. Line up that interview.”

He says nothing. I leave.