One Chance(12)

After the meeting, one of the female attorneys on the legal team cornered me in the ladies’ room. “Nice work,” she said with a wink.

“Sorry?” I kept my head down as I lathered soap on my hands, hoping she would take a hint and go away.

“Connor. He’s damn fine. And rich. You played that well.” She smiled at me when I glanced up at the mirror. “People are talking but don’t listen to them. They’re just jealous.”

I got several judgmental looks on the way to my office and even heard someone mutter slut. The moment I had been dreading had officially arrived. I had two choices- I could hide in my office all day and avoid my phone and email, or I could suck it up and act like it didn’t bother me. I remembered what William had said about his family being survivors and I decided I didn’t want to be a victim. I had made my own bed, so to speak, and now I had to lay in it.

The day only got worse. Everywhere I turned, I interrupted hastily whispered conversations that ended abruptly upon my appearance. By the end of the day, I went home without even checking to see what William wanted to do for the evening. Hiding in my apartment for a couple of years seemed like the best idea.

He showed up a couple hours later. I had already changed into his University of Chicago t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants. Certainly not my best look, but at least I was comfortable.

“What’s wrong?” he asked the second he saw my face. I was ashamed to admit that I had been crying for the last hour but my swollen eyes gave me away.

“Cat’s out of the bag,” I said, stepping back to let him in. I had an open bottle of wine waiting for me in the living room and I headed there without giving William a proper greeting. “I’m the office slut. Just like I predicted.”

“What do you mean? How did people find out?” William stripped off his coat and threw it over a chair.

I flopped onto the couch and took a big gulp of wine. “Dan. He’s friends with Tara and he has a big mouth.”

“Shit, Livy.” William sat next to me and gave me a long look. “Was it terrible for you?”

I shrugged and took another drink. “I survived.”

“What can I do?” He looked so desperate to help but there was nothing he could do. This was the path we had chosen- the path I had chosen.

I put down the wine bottle now that it was empty and thought for a second. Eventually, I just shook my head. “Hold me?” It was the only thing I could think of that would make things better.

William slid over until he could put his arms around me. As I snuggled close to him and burrowed into his arms, I was able to forget for a minute about the name-calling and hateful looks. All that mattered was that I still had William and somehow I knew we would find a way to make it work.

He let me feel sorry for myself for exactly fifteen minutes. Then he launched into a tirade about one of our clients at work. I knew he was trying to take my mind off things and I was grateful for the distraction. He held my feet in his lap, gently working the sore muscles in my arches.

“So our client is part of the royal family in Italy? That sounds made up.” I hadn’t even known that Italy still had a royal family.

“Old royalty. A distant ancestor was a Pope, or a Cardinal. Something like that. Honesty, I don’t really know. But the oldest son was just caught with a mistress.” William’s hands moved from my feet up to my calves. “An older mistress. Like twenty years older.”

“No way.” I laughed. Who would’ve thought this day would end with me and William gossiping like old ladies? “So when are you going to Italy?”

“Two days.”

“Two days?” That was way too soon for my liking.

William shrugged. “It’s an urgent matter. You can come with me if you want.”

“Not happening.” People at work already hated me. Using the job as an excuse to follow William to Italy would make things a million times worse. “Just don’t fall in love with some Italian princess while you’re gone.”

“Fine.” Now his hands were over my knees and still heading north. “We should go to Rome soon though. You would like it. It’s more romantic than Florence, if you ask me.”

“I’m sure I would love it.” I was sure I would love any place if I went with William.

I had been pretty sure I knew where William was headed with his hands but he threw me a curveball when his hands left my body and he said very quietly, “I heard you met with Mark from Palmroil.”

I felt like slapping myself in the forehead. How could I have forgotten about that meeting? Of course William had found out and now, because he hadn’t heard it from me, he could only assume the worst.