Sleeping With Her Enemy(73)

“I lost sight of the most important thing,” he went on, “which is that I still love you.”

She thought about how Mason had broken her heart by breaking her vision of the future. But also about how she’d moved on. She understood now that she was better off without Mason, just as Dax had always said.

Too bad she couldn’t quite convince herself that she was better off without Dax, too.

“I’ve sold the house,” she said.

His smiled. “It doesn’t matter. The house isn’t important.”

She wanted to interrupt to tell him that yes, the house was important. She had been trying to make it not important. But it was. It really, really was. It was a great big symbol, and even though leaving it had been the right thing to do, it had been gutting. But it was gone now, just like their relationship. But he wasn’t done talking. “We can get another house. A better one. I’ll be done with my residency in December, and I have an offer at a small OB practice at Spadina and Saint Clair.”

“Forest Hill Village,” she said. He’d be doctoring the rich mommies-to-be right in the neighborhood.

“Yes! Look, I know it was a huge sacrifice for you, all these years, while I was in school. I want it to be your turn. Let me take care of you for a while.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. Was he suggesting she quit her job? Or just pledging to be the attentive partner she had always hoped he’d turn into?

He dropped her hands—she’d forgotten he was holding them—and took a step back. “But I’ve said too much. I’m overwhelming you.”

That much she could agree with, so she smiled weakly. She should open her mouth and send him away, but she was exhausted, and it was so much easier to just let things happen.

“All I’m asking is for you to think about it.” He dug in his pocket. “I got you a little gift.”

“Perfume?” she said, focusing on the small box he held out to her. She turned it over to read the label. “Chanel Number Five?”

“Yes! It’s a classic, I’m told.”

That was true, she supposed.

He took it from her and opened the box. Freeing the bottle, he held it out to her. When she didn’t move to take it, he prompted. “Will you wear some? Just try it.”

She wasn’t wearing any perfume at the moment. She hadn’t been able to find her toiletry bag in the chaos of the move, so she’d picked up a few drugstore essentials so as not to look like a hobo at her mother’s party, but she hadn’t purchased any scent.

She felt like a robot, letting him take her wrist and spritz some perfume onto it, Reflexively, she pressed the wrist against her throat to distribute the scent, just like she always did with her usual perfume. What had just happened? Did he think this meant she was considering getting back together with him? Or was it just perfume?

Mason shot her a huge smile. “Let’s go downstairs. The guests were starting to arrive when I got here, so I imagine things are in full swing now.”

Yes. Her friends had probably arrived. Dax had probably arrived. To her embarrassment, a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

“Hey, now. Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup. We don’t need everyone gossiping about us any more than they already are, do we?”

“I suppose not,” she said, letting him take her hand and lead her out of the den. “Mason,” she began as they started down the stairs, “I don’t want you to think…” God, this was hard.

“Excuse me?”

She took a deep, fortifying breath.

And then panicked.

Because she smelled like her mother.

…

Where the hell was Amy?

Dax had been walking around wearing a ridiculous pair of white pants that made him look like an old man from Boca Raton, and for what? Maybe she’d already bolted. He hoped she’d already bolted. When Cassie had texted him that Amy and her brother were going to get to the party early, he’d made sure he showed up at the stroke of ten. Danny had been exactly right, even if his terminology had been overly colorful. Right now, Amy needed backup dancers. Reinforcements.

And he and his lily-white pants were leading the goddamned cavalry.

With any luck, by this evening, his lily-white pants would be on the floor next to a bed with her in it.

He wasn’t sure what was going on with her. Moving was stressful, but he didn’t think moving was solely responsible for how out of sorts she’d been yesterday. He’d watched her like a hawk, and she’d seemed like a bundle of raw nerves, perpetually on the verge of tears.

And that wasn’t going to fly with him. He needed the old Amy back, pronto. He was pretty sure she was in there somewhere.