On her first day back to the Foundation after a two-week vacation, Taylor called, offering to coordinate this benefit. According to her, Alec wanted the proceeds to go to the purchase of the Foundation building so they didn’t have to worry about paying rent in the future.
Even though Alec hadn’t tried to call her again, she thought she still had time to decide whether she wanted to pursue something with him. His last text said to call him if she changed her mind about being with him, but she hadn’t responded. In her mind, she rationalized that whatever happened needed to be done in person. Apparently, he didn’t feel the same way. The tender look on his face as his eyes scanned the woman next to him told her he had moved on, which made sense. Her Google search of Alec showed him with a different woman in every picture. She should have known better, but acknowledging that fact didn’t improve her free-falling mood.
Annette wrapped her hand around her wrist. “Don’t run. He knows you’re coming. Don’t let him think you’re too afraid or too hurt to fulfill your end of the bargain. If he moved on, then he wasn’t worth your time, anyway.”
Violet turned to the side, so she didn’t have to watch him with that woman for one more instant. She’d been delusional to convince herself that the mysterious Alec Reed—as dubbed by countless websites she read over the last month—would be waiting for her with bated breath to come back into his life.
The idea was so ridiculously convoluted that she’d laugh if she didn’t think the show of emotion would somehow twist into a total emotional breakdown. There was just something about the way Alec looked at her and talked to her before everything fell apart that made her want to believe that they could put everything behind them and start over. She was wrong.
“I don’t care what he thinks,” she said as she glanced over her shoulder. She needed to sear the memory of him with that woman into her mind. He looked glamorous and unobtainable. The next time she second-guessed her decision to leave him, this memory would remind her that she made the right decision. “I’m not going to paint a smile on my face all night while he gropes some other woman in front of me.”
“It’s hardly a grope.”
“There’s still time.”
“You’re no fun. At least you could let us stay for Chasing Ruin’s performance. They’re playing songs from their unreleased record.”
“You’re welcome to stay. I just can’t do it.” Her voice broke on the last word. Watching him play the drums would inevitably remind her of the day she and Alec set up the music room at the Foundation. She groaned inwardly. She couldn’t believe she actually complimented him on his drum playing abilities. He must have had a chuckle at her expense later that night. Asshole.
Annette studied her face. “No, I’m coming with you. I came to support you, not to listen to the band or gawk at celebrities.”
“Really? Because I was starting to wonder.”
Annette playfully hit her arm. “Hey, I got lost for a few minutes there, but I’m over my star gawking phase and back to being your one and only best friend.” She wrapped her arm around Violet’s shoulder, pulling her close for a quick hug. “Let’s get out of here and go out to dinner and then dancing.” She bumped her hip into Violet’s side.
“No way. I’ve had enough action for one night.” She wanted to crawl into the bed in their hotel room and watch movies and eat junk food. She couldn’t imagine pretending it didn’t hurt that Alec moved on so quickly. She wanted to kick herself for having such high expectations for this night in spite of reality.
“Are you kidding? We’re not going to waste our pretty,” Annette said, waving her hands in front of them like some sort of Vanna White impersonator.
Violet sighed. “Fine.” They had an early flight back tomorrow morning so the evening couldn’t last that long and this was Annette’s vacation, too.
“Wait,” a voice yelled after them as they stepped into the lobby.
Violet spun around. The woman in the red dress stumbled toward them, nearly tripping over the hem of her dress. Sadly, she took a little bit of delight from the fact that the woman wasn’t much better at walking in high heels than Violet.
“Are you leaving?” the woman asked, a look of panic shooting across her face.
“Excuse me?” Violet said, frowning. “Do I know you?”
The woman frowned. “You’re Violet Emerson, right?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, thank God I caught you. You have to speak in ten minutes.”
“Who are you?” Violet repeated, thinking the woman’s voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.