The Fixed Trilogy(Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You)(296)

I read the last line again. “Words without experience are meaningless.” It was a quote from Lolita. There were other lines that seemed familiar, certainly more quips from other literary classics. Hudson Pierce did not read the classics. His library had no books before I’d moved in. Celia, on the other hand…

A flash of movement out the window drew my attention.

I peered out to find that a couple sitting on the other side of the glass was leaving. What kept my focus was the woman at the table behind them.

Goddamn, speak of the devil.

As my eye caught hers, Celia smiled—the same old bitchy smile she always delivered.

I chewed on my lip, deciding what to do. I could continue sitting in the bakery and text Reynold for a ride. Or I could leave and see if she’d follow.

Or I could talk to her.

There wasn’t anything I burned to say to the woman. I knew that any request I made to be left alone would only result in more harassment. And asking her reasons for her actions wouldn’t get me anywhere. Anything she said to me couldn’t be trusted, so what was the point in conversation?

The point was that I was curious. Curious what she’d try to convince me of, what her body language would say.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I threw my bag over my shoulder, grabbed my computer and walked out to the patio.

To her credit, Celia didn’t blink when I sat across from her.

“By all means, Laynie, sit,” she said, her tone pleasant and condescending and a little bit eager, as though she was looking forward to a confrontation. She probably was.

Without any preamble, I turned my laptop to face her and pointed to the email still on the screen. “This is you, isn’t it?”

She scanned a few lines, recognition flashing in her eyes. “I don’t know for the life of me what you’re talking about, Laynie.”

She liked to say my name a lot—it was a trick I’d learned in grad school. When said in the right tone, it made a person feel patronized. She certainly knew the tools of basic manipulation.

But so did I. “That email, Celia. You’re the one who sent it to Stacy. I recognize your choice of literary quotes.”

“Why, that’s crazy.” Her inflection was exaggerated. “This says it’s from Hudson. Did you hack into his email? I hear that’s typical of women with your condition. In fact, Laynie, should you really be sitting with me? I could still file that restraining order.”

I tilted my head, studying her. She wanted me to threaten a restraining order of my own. But we were playing this conversation on my terms. “What I don’t understand is how you got Hudson to go along.”

“Go along with what?” She blinked innocently.

“The kiss.” I turned the screen back to face me and loaded the video. I pushed play and spun it toward her. “This.”

She watched silently, giving nothing away. When it was finished, she raised her eyes to meet mine, her expression suddenly serious. “So you’ve discovered our little secret.”

She wanted me to assume the kiss was real. I didn’t believe it was. “That you played together? Yes.”

She laughed. “Is that what he told you? I suppose he wouldn’t want you to know what we really meant to each other.”

“Ha ha. I don’t buy it.”

“That I was Hudson’s lover? Suit yourself.” She pursed her lips. “It lasted beyond that, you know. Why do you think I had a key to his place? And when I picked him up at the Hamptons—there was no business trip.”

Lies, lies, lies.

I didn’t have any doubt that every word was meant to instigate me. “You’ve fucked with me too many times to believe anything that comes out of your mouth.” I closed my computer and began stuffing it in my bag. There was nothing to learn from her after all.

Celia shrugged. “I could give you proof, if I wanted to. I know all his bedroom moves. Does he dominate you completely? Does he have a nickname for you? Precious, perhaps?”

Unwittingly, my eyes popped up at Hudson’s pet name. How the hell did she know about that? Hudson had promised me it was private.

She caught my reaction. “He does, doesn’t he? Don’t you know that he calls all his lovers precious? Did you think it was just for you? He called me that when he plowed into me over and over on his office desk. ‘My precious, my precious,’ he’d say. I’m sure he simply says it now out of habit.”

It didn’t matter if she was telling the truth or lying. Either way, she’d tainted something sacred. Something that meant a great deal to me. That combined with all the other shit she’d pulled?

I snapped.

“Maybe it wasn’t just for me. But this is just for you.” My hand curled into a fist and flew at her face before she could see it coming. From the cracking sound that accompanied my punch, I guessed that her nose was broken.