“Where did you get that design for Max’s dress?” he asked.
She shook her head, thinking she’d misheard him. “Where did I get it? Do you mean where did I get my ideas from?”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair again. His eyes darted around the table, to the left of her, to her lap, anywhere but meeting her confused stare. When his eyes finally found hers, it was the rest of his face that sent the pit of her stomach on a downhill roller coaster. Worry lines streaked his forehead, and a deep vee had formed between his furrowed brows.
“Riley, Claudia said the design was hers.”
Riley felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. She pushed to her feet, sending the chair flying backward. “What? That little bitch. You know that’s not true.” Her entire body shook. She crossed her arms in an effort to stop them from trembling. Her lower lip shook, and she bit it, holding it in place. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Babe,” he said.
She wished that endearment didn’t remind her of just how much she loved him. “Josh, you know this isn’t true. You were there when I showed it to Max. You saw the drawing. You saw me laboring over the design right there at your dining room table.” Don’t cry.
“I saw the sketch when you showed it to Max, but I didn’t see you draw it.” He looked at her then with a mixture of disbelief and empathy—or maybe it was pity, she couldn’t tell.
“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t steal anything. I can prove it.” She didn’t mean to yell. She swiped at a tear that had broken loose. Prove it? I have to prove something to you? “I can’t believe this. You’d believe Claudia over me? It’s me, Josh. Remember?” There was no stopping the flow of angry tears. She sucked air into her constricted lungs. “Remember me, Josh? The girl you said you loved? Do you really think I’d do something like that?”
He dropped his eyes. “I didn’t want to believe it, but she showed me scanned sketches of all the drawings, dated well before you showed the dress to Max. I accused her of lying, of stealing. Hell, I accused her of everything I could think of. Then I had to watch her click through image after image on her computer of scanned clothing designs she’d supposedly sketched. Designs I’d never seen before, with the exception of Max’s wedding dress and one dress that I had actually witnessed her designing earlier in the month. Witnessed, Riley. Damn it, why didn’t I witness you drawing the damn wedding dress in the first place? You have to believe me. I didn’t want to believe her—even when her proof was infuckingdisputable. So I talked to the staff and—”
“You talked to the staff?” Oh my God. “You’ve humiliated me without any proof.”
“Riley, no one has seen you drawing anything besides JBD work.”
He looked at her then, and this time the meaning was clear. Pity. Before the sobs tore from her chest, she stormed from the room.
“I don’t believe this,” she spat.
In the bedroom, she threw her clothes onto the bed. She was shaking so badly that she kept dropping them on the floor. She heard Josh enter the room, felt his arms touch her from behind. She stopped for a beat, then twisted away.
“You’re not the man I thought you were,” she said, more sad than angry. She scooped the clothes into her arms, grabbed the few pairs of shoes she could hold on to, and headed for the front door.
“Riley, wait. Let’s talk about this.”
She hooked her purse with her finger and turned to face him. He stood with his shoulders rounded forward, his hair askew, and bags under his beautifully sad dark eyes. She loved him so much that every fiber of her being ached at his accusation. She couldn’t stay in that apartment. She couldn’t stay with him. No matter how much she loved him, she knew she had to leave. She gathered all of the courage she could muster, gripping the clothes tightly against her body—a shield between her and the hurt—and when she spoke, she barely recognized the sound of her own broken voice.
“The man I love would never have believed this farce in the first place. I’ll stay at Treat’s, and I’ll get my stuff at some point. I’ll move out of Treat’s when I go home. I’m sorry, but please find someone else to run the show. Mia and Simone are great. They’ll do it.” She reached for the doorknob just as Josh touched her shoulders.
He rested his forehead on the back of her head. “Please, don’t do this.”
She clenched her eyes shut, damning the tears. Her heart screamed, Turn around! Hold him! Love him! Her mind screamed, Someone who loves you doesn’t do this.
“You already did,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
FUCK. FUCK, FUCK, fuck. Goddamn it. Josh stomped through the apartment, up and down the hall, through the living room, and finally, into the master bedroom, where he leaned on the dresser and stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess; his eyes were bloodshot and angry. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rewind time and fucking witness Riley draw that original drawing. He gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw, and paced the floor until his chest and stomach hurt so badly he had to get the poison out. He raised his arms toward the ceiling and yelled, “FUUUUUCK!”
The veins in his neck pressed against his skin. His face felt white-hot. How the hell would he fix this mess? He stomped to the front door and swung it open. He’d apologize to Riley. He’d take her in his arms and work this shit out. Then what? What if he’d been wrong about her? What if she did steal the design? I’m not wrong. She’s a good person. But what if…
He closed the door, taking relief in the fact that it was Saturday. He had time to think. To plan. To mourn.
RILEY FLUNG HER clothes on the foyer floor and crumpled onto the living room couch, sobbing. How could this happen? Yesterday she was on cloud nine, and now her career—and her relationship with Josh—were over. Kaput. Done. She sobbed until her chest and throat ached and she had no more tears to cry. She punched the couch pillows, then stood and paced. She wished she could climb out of her skin and hide. Riley threw herself onto the center of the living room floor and curled up in the fetal position. How could anything hurt this much?
She couldn’t think past the ache of mistrust Josh had shown. He should have come to her first. Now everyone knew that she’d been accused of something she didn’t do—of something Josh believed she did.
She dialed Jade’s number. Jade answered on the first ring, and the sound of her voice drew more sobs from a well deep within Riley’s body that she didn’t know existed. How could something hurt so much?
“Ri? What is it, hon? What can I do?” Jade urged.
“I…I wanna come home.” That was it. She had to go back to her safe existence. No one in Weston would ever accuse her of something so vile.
“Oh, honey, of course you can come home. Ri, honey, tell me what’s going on. Did something happen? Did Josh do something?”
Riley pushed through the pain and humiliation and told her best friend exactly what had crushed her will to go on.
“Oh, hon. I just can’t believe Josh would believe any of that,” she said. Her voice was like a warm hug—an embrace that part of Riley wanted to rebel against and push away from so she could wallow in the ache of Josh’s faltering faith in her and another part of her wanted to run back into just to feel that she was loved.
There was no hiding from the excruciating pain. She had to face Josh head-on or give up. How could she love someone who didn’t trust her? But damn it, she did love him.
“Well, he does,” she said to Jade. “What should I do? Should I talk to him some more? I mean, what can I say? There was no one watching me draw Max’s dress. God, I had to hide it from Claudia or deal with her wrath. There were no eyewitnesses.”
“Take a deep breath, Riley. Let this mess blow over, then talk to him. It’s Saturday. Talk to him tomorrow, when you’re less upset. That way you can fix things before Monday.”
“I don’t know if I want to fix things. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this backstabbing business after all.” Or a relationship with Josh.
“I can’t give you the answers, but I wouldn’t make any final decisions today,” Jade said.
“I told Josh to get someone else to run the show,” she admitted.
“Then Cruella wins. Hands down.”
She knew Jade was pushing her in the same way that she might have pushed Jade if she were in a similar situation, but it hurt so damned much.
“So come home. Give up,” Jade urged.
Riley wiped her eyes as reality dawned on her. Jade was right. If she gave up, Claudia won. Even if she didn’t carry on her relationship with Josh, she couldn’t let Claudia define her career. “Sometimes I hate you,” Riley said.
“I can accept that. Now get your ass in the shower, show up on Josh’s doorstep, and tell him that you’re doing the show. Then hold that beautiful head up high and don’t let the bullshit weigh you down. You’ll figure this stuff out. And if you don’t, you can come home to me. I’ll open a bottle of Middle Sister margaritas, and we can drink all the hurt away.”