Best Friends With the Billionaire(34)

“You’re right,” he snapped. “Let me help you on your way.”

He hefted up the suitcase and stomped down the stairs, anger swelling with each step.

“Kirk, I’m sorry we’re arguing like this,” Cassie said as he yanked open the front door.

“You know what I’m sorry for?” Deep down, he knew he wasn’t thinking straight, that the words were spewing out from frustration and confusion and bewilderment. But knowing that didn’t mean he could stop himself. “I’m sorry I ever slept with you. I’m an idiot twice over, because I knew it was a bad idea, but I still went ahead.”

She tilted up her chin, anger flashing through her eyes. “I, I, I. You think you acted alone? That was my decision, too.”

“Fine, then you’re twice an idiot, too.”

A twinge of regret troubled him as he heard his harsh words, but the thunderstorm of emotion sweeping through him was too strong to hold back. He stormed out of the house, her suitcase still in his grip, and spied a taxi at the curb, the passenger alighting and crossing the road. That never happened, a taxi waiting there precisely when it was needed. He waved at the driver, thinking this must be an omen that Cassie was meant to leave him.

The driver got out and opened the trunk for the suitcase. Kirk was about to wheel it to him when Cassie grabbed the handle. Without a word she pushed the suitcase to the driver then jumped into the backseat. Only when she was inside did she turn and look at Kirk through the wound down window.

Her tightly drawn expression caused a tremor to snake through him. She was leaving him. Was she really going back to her mom’s, or would she end up in Russell’s arms? The prospect shot ice into his heart. He didn’t want to know where she was going, didn’t want to think of her with someone else.

“Good bye, Cassie,” he said grimly, pushing his hands in his pockets to hide their trembling.

She didn’t say anything, just looked at him until the taxi drove her away.

…

Audrey pulled a face as soon as she opened the door to Cassie. “Oh, dear. I was hoping you’d manage to patch things up with Kirk, but I suppose that was too much to expect.” She ushered Cassie in impatiently. “You will try again, won’t you? It’s important to maintain these valuable friendships.”

Cassie shivered, unable to speak. She’d lost Kirk’s friendship, perhaps forever, and her heart was shredded. If only she hadn’t pushed him, asked for more, expected more. And, oh God, if only she hadn’t told him about that kiss two years ago and him calling for Alison. The shocked dismay in his expression had hit her like a fist—he’d desecrated his wife’s memory by kissing someone else just days after the funeral. She should never have told him. And now, he couldn’t stand the sight of her because she reminded him of his betrayal. Yes, only now did she see it from his perspective, now that it was way too late.

“Cassie.” Audrey snapped her fingers, jerking her back to reality. “Lillian’s out with Mark visiting some of his relatives. The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow, and she’ll want to be her best. She’ll be put out enough having you in her bedroom, so I don’t want you talking about your arguments with Kirk. Agreed?”

Cassie nodded before trudging into her sister’s bedroom. The pull-out trundle was narrow and hard, but she didn’t expect to have an easy night’s sleep anyway. She stowed her suitcase in a corner, undressed, and crawled under the sheets. She lay still for a long while, her lungs wheezing in the darkness, legs curled up to her chest, fingernails digging into her arms. Sometime later, she pressed a hand to her pillow and found it soaked with her tears.





Chapter Eleven

Kirk scowled at the whisky bottle in front of him. The expensive Scotch, a Christmas gift, had sat unopened on top of his fridge until tonight when, after tearing half the kitchen apart, he’d seized the bottle, cracked it open, and filled the first of several glasses. Now, it was past midnight, he was slumped at the kitchen table, and the bottle was half-empty. His stomach burned, unaccustomed to the deluge of liquor, but no amount of whisky could dull the tempest raging in his heart.

He was an ass, a jerk, a dirtbag. He’d hurt the person who’d always been there for him, hurt her in a callous, crude manner, and he hadn’t even remembered doing it. Even worse, she had forgiven him and continued to be his friend all this time.

He scrunched up his eyes in another attempt to recall something—anything—of that day he’d kissed Cassie and called out another woman’s name. Those days after the funeral were shrouded in gray. After months of tending to Alison, making sure her final days were peaceful and as pain-free as possible, he’d been pushed beyond exhaustion, yet unable to sleep. The pain of living had ached deep in his bones. Then Cassie had showed up, and he found he could breathe again.

He wasn’t surprised he’d kissed her in his sleep. After three years of a slowly dying marriage followed by illness and death, Cassie was everything he’d needed then—quiet, gentle, tender. An angel in his hour of need.

But why the hell had he called out Alison’s name, and why couldn’t he recall anything? Those sleeping pills he’d been taking must’ve really screwed up his head. But that was no excuse for what he’d done. He banged his clenched fist against his forehead, cursing himself. Cassie was right to have left him and returned to Russell. He didn’t deserve to be her friend, let alone anything else.

Groaning, he poured himself another drink, the golden liquid sloshing in his glass as his hand shook. He couldn’t bear the thoughts tormenting him. He had to forget or go mad. He downed the whisky in one long, shuddering gasp, and reached for the bottle again.

…

Cassie was in her mom’s kitchen hunched over a cup of coffee when an ear-splitting screech came from the direction of the bathroom. Cassie rushed in to find her sister in her underwear, pawing at her arms and legs.

“What?” Cassie asked, fearing her sister had injured herself.

“I’m a freak,” Lillian shrieked. “Look at me!”

As far as Cassie could tell, there was no blood, no cuts, no bruises. “What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?”

“My tan. It’s all splotchy. Can’t you see these hideous white patches?” Lillian flapped her arms and pointed at her legs. “Ooh, I’m going to kill that technician!”

Belatedly, Cassie remembered. “Oh, that spray tan you got yesterday.” She eyed her sister’s body. “Did it go wrong?”

“Of course it’s gone wrong. I’m hideous. I look like a mangy old cat.”

Cassie pressed her lips together. “You look fine to me.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Lillian glared at her reflection in the mirror, and tears gathered in her eyes. “Oh God, this is a disaster. We have to be at the rehearsal in an hour, so there’s no time to go back to the salon.”

The rehearsal was scheduled for six, and straight after was the rehearsal dinner, a huge affair hosted by Mark’s parents, to which all the guests were invited. Cassie’s mom had already left on a last-minute errand, so Cassie and Lillian were alone in the apartment.

“Don’t you have some kind of touch-up spray?” Cassie asked, feeling out of her depth as she’d never had a spray tan in her life.

Lillian’s angry eyes met hers in the mirror. “The colors won’t match, silly. I’ll look even stupider.” She dragged her hands down her neck. “I was going to wear that halter-neck dress tonight. I’ll look awful. And what about tomorrow? My gorgeous wedding dress…” Her eyes shimmered with tears, and her chin started to wobble.

Irritation spurted in Cassie. “Are you really going to cry over a few splotchy marks? Give me a break. You’re acting like a spoiled little brat.”

Her sister gasped. “You take that back.”

“No, I won’t. In fact, I’ll go further. You’re behaving like this wedding is the be-all and end-all of your entire existence. Like this is the highlight of your life and nothing else will ever compare.”

“How dare you talk to me like that!” Lillian turned on her.

But Cassie was too far gone, swept along by her bitter heartbreak. “You’re wailing because your skin isn’t one hundred percent perfect when that’s the least important thing. Same goes for your wedding dress and your bridal party and your reception. None of that matters. The only thing that matters is that you’re marrying Mark.”

“But—but I’m doing all this for him, too.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. He doesn’t care about any of this. He puts up with all your bullshit just to make you happy.” Cassie paused, her heart aching. “He loves you, and you should count your lucky stars to have him.”

Lillian teared up again, but this time they seemed to be happy tears. “I—I am lucky to have him, aren’t I? And I do love him, very much.” Her voice softened. “I forget that sometimes in all the wedding plans.”

“Well, there you go, then.” Cassie threw up her arms. “You’re marrying the man of your dreams. That’s all you should care about.”