“But it’s not the kind of attraction that means anything!” I yelled back, my frustration boiling over so hot and thick I thought my skin might blister.
He shoved a hand through his hair in frustration before leaning toward me. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“It just means that yes, I think you’re hot. But so does anyone with eyes! You’re a good-looking guy. Of course I’m attracted to you,” I explained, intentionally lowering my voice before continuing. “But I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to leave Jack for you. It’s not the kind of attraction that makes me question anything in my life, if that’s what you’re asking.”
His gaze dropped to the ground, looking like all the wind had just been sucked from his sails. “Oh.”
Guilt seeped into my bones, making itself at home. Scenes of our time spent together ran through my mind like a sports highlights reel. Had I given him the wrong impression? Did I lead him on? Did I make Matteo think there was something between us?
“Look, I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you some impression that I wanted more from you. I don’t. And I don’t say that to hurt you, but I’m in love with Jack. I want that to be very clear.”
“You didn’t.” He paused, exhaling a breath so large his chest caved inward. “You didn’t lead me on. It’s just that I don’t really spend any time with anyone other than you.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You don’t love me, Matteo. I promise you that you don’t. You just think you do because we’re always together. Maybe we should look into hiring another driver when I get back into town?”
The idea of a new driver filled me with a sliver of relief. The lines of our relationship had blurred so often that I suddenly appeared blinded by it. Matteo worked for us, but the friendship we formed often took precedence. Lines needed to be clear again—business first, friendship second. But how would I ever explain that to Jack without him suspecting something?
His face twisted as he pushed off the curb, standing above me. “Please don’t fire me. I love working for you guys. This is literally the best job I’ve ever had. Give me another chance. Please, Cassie. I’m so sorry. It will never happen again. I promise.”
I couldn’t give him any answers, so I didn’t. Right now, I needed to get the hell out of New York and away from everyone. “I have to go.”
“Are you going to tell Jack?” His handsome face looked nervous; it seemed strange to see him looking so undone.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. I considered keeping the kiss from Jack, and that fact alone nearly wrecked me. Omitting the truth was still being dishonest. I’d be doing the number one thing I’d insisted Jack never to do me: lie.
“He’ll kill me.” Matteo rubbed his temples.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t disagree. “He will.”
I Don’t Care How Much It Costs
Jack
Watching Cassie run out our door last night practically tore me in two. I knew I had to let her go, but it fucking killed me to stand there and watch it happen. I hoped Melissa would be able to talk some sense into her. Despite all of the torment and pain I’d caused in the past, I knew Melissa still believed that Cassie and I were meant to be together. I thought I could count on that much.
I convinced myself that Cassie just needed some time away. She’d see everything clearly in a few days, and she’d come back home to me. I knew that being in the public eye could be unbearable at times, but hopefully it was worth putting up with in order to be together.
Right?
I knew what I wanted. And what I wanted was to spend the rest of my life with Cassie. I’ve always known it, but having her leave like this only solidified the fact that I refused to live my life without her in it. I wanted her to know how serious I was about us. Nothing and no one would ever come between us again. I didn’t know shit about jewelry, but every guy knew about Tiffany’s. The ring Chrystle sported on her tiny finger had been her late grandmother’s, so all of this ring-shopping business was new to me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I hustled down the busy New York streets toward the shop six or so blocks away. I pulled my hat down low and donned sunglasses, hoping no one would recognize me and try to stop me for pictures. Two steps from the Tiffany’s store a voice shouted, “Jack Carter?” and my feet stopped moving. “Oh my God, are you Jack Carter?”
I looked up to see a teenage girl practically dancing off the sidewalk. “Hi.” I smiled, not wanting her to draw attention to me, or the store I was about to walk into.