Only in Dreams(35)

I don’t knock, and I don’t hesitate. I throw open the door to Christian’s studio and walk in as if I own the place. He is on the other side of the room, and when he catches site of me he freezes.

“Christian Bennett,” I say sternly, cringing slightly as I quickly realize I sound like a raging bitch. I pause, considering my next words carefully. Then I remember why I’m so angry. He says nothing, only continues to stare at me.

“What’s wrong with you? I mean it. I really want to know—what exactly is broken inside that thick head of yours?”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable by my tone.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to say something?”

“I would say something if I had any clue what you were talking about,” he answers calmly.

“Oh, please, don’t play dumb with me. You knew exactly what you were doing from the moment I came here.”

“No, really. I don’t know why you’re so angry,” he insists.

I’m insulted that he thinks I’m so stupid. If this is how he wants to play it, though, I am more than happy to lay it all out for him. “I come down here with the intention of working and spending time with my best friend. I didn’t even know you were here when I decided to come.”

“And you’re mad at me for what exactly?”

“Are you kidding me? You spend the last month telling me how we can be friends, and there’s no reason for things to be weird between us. Then you take me to that damn bar and—Jesus, I don’t even know what the hell that was.”

“You were just as much a part of that as me.”

“Let me finish!” I demand. “You even tell me that you want to be friends with Henry, and no sooner than he gets here, do you take off.”

“Oh, that’s what this is about,” he huffs, taking a step closer to me.

“Yeah, now you suddenly get it. I mean, really, I thought we were past all this childishness,” I grumble, crossing my arms and glaring at him.

“Childishness?” His mouth falls open. “I had a last minute delivery to make. I didn’t know I was supposed to clear my schedule with you. I don’t think that means I’m childish.”

“You really must think I’m stupid. You leave the minute Henry gets here, and then suddenly get back as soon as he’s gone. A delivery took four days?” I question, not hiding my disbelief.

“Actually, yeah. It was a day’s drive there and a day back, and then they paid me to do the installation job. Some of the work had to actually be done on site. I shouldn’t have to explain my business to you Paige,” he snarls, turning and walking across the studio, retrieving some tools from a table.

“Oh my God, you’re totally going to stick to your story, aren’t you?” I snap, walking to the door. Before exiting, I look back at Christian, who is now staring at me, again. “What I don’t get is, why the games? I told Henry you wanted to meet him. Was it just to make me look stupid? You really haven’t changed, have you?”

I don’t wait for him to answer. It doesn’t matter what he says. I know he’ll tell me whatever he thinks I want to hear—that’s how Christian works, and I’ve had enough of it. I should have trusted my gut and left him in the past, where he belongs.





“PAIGE? YOU IN here?” I hear Colin’s voice call from the entry of the shop.

“Behind the counter,” I yell back from the table where I set up the sewing machine.

“I’ve got some boxes for you,” he explains. “Where do you want them?”

“Anywhere is fine,” I answer. “Are they deliveries from Henry?” I’ve been expecting some of the sample books from Henry’s grandmother. I need to confirm the color choices on the flowers, as well as make sure the linens are to my liking. I’m not really sure how a tablecloth can’t be to one’s satisfaction, but she is adamant I sign off on them.

“No, they’re the boxes of fabric from Christian’s.” His name is like a punch to the gut. I pull my foot off the pedal of the sewing machine and stand up. I look at Colin who is now setting the boxes next to the various others along the wall.

“He’s sending you to do his dirty work, huh?” I’ve managed to avoid Christian for the past two days, which, considering he eats every meal with Colin and Emmie, has not been an easy task.

“Why are you so angry at him?” Colin finally asks. He usually stays out of our business unless he feels absolutely certain one of us is being a complete idiot. Based on his questioning, I can only assume he thinks that person is me.