Tossing a bill at the vendor—I can’t even tell you the denomination, perhaps it is a twenty, or a hundred—I rush down the street, weaving through the hordes of people blocking my path, until I reach the plain door to my clinic.
Once inside, I slam the newspaper down on the examination table and let my eyes fly over words.
Who’s Falling for Who? Manhattan’s most eligible bachelor, August St. Jean, spotted out with Vinnie Paladino!
Women all over the city are drying their eyes after seeing Manhattan’s most eligible bachelor, August St. Jean, holding Vinnie Paladino in a cozy clutch as he dips her in greeting at the Venus-Hope gala last night. Are the two dating? A source close to St. Jean told us the two have been growing closer and getting to know each other, but that St. Jean is “smitten” with the Paladino Princess.
Rage erupts at the article, my fingers curling around the monotone pages, crumpling it until it’s no longer legible. Tossing it into the trash, I lean over the countertop, grabbing the edge with as much force as I can.
All I see is red.
The monster within trying to claw through the walls of the box I’ve stored him away in, begging to be set free. He’s taunting me about how easy it would be to pay August a visit. Send him a message.
Doing so would compromise everything I’ve worked toward, everything I fight to keep locked tightly within me.
I’m not thatman.
But forher, I consider the consequences.
Vinnie hadn’t mentioned this to me. She hadn’t mentioned anything that night, nor last night when she was in my arms and in my bed.
But there’s no mistaking that somethingdidhappen.
There’s no mistaking the dress she’s wearing in the photo. The same one I had the pleasure of watching fall from her body.
Her smile…
She looked surprised, but not unhappy.
Could I be misreading the signs of our relationship?
I squash that notion the moment it filters through my brain, remembering the day she showed up at my apartment infearof him.
She hates him just as much as I do. She had to have been caught off guard.
But why didn’t she tell me about it?
A knock at the door startles me, pulling me from my thoughts. Glancing at my watch, I notice that it’s nearly thirty minutes before my patient is supposed to arrive.
My long strides have me at the door quickly, and as I pull it open, I’m greeted by the familiar, and entirely unwelcome in this moment, face of my best friend.
“Sully.” I glower at him, eyes narrowing as he stands in my doorway with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Invite me in?” He winks, then pushes past me.
Settling in the leather guest chair, he crosses his foot over the opposite knee and looks at me with scrutiny in his eyes.
We haven’t spoken since the gala last night and Ican’t tell if he’s still upset or if, in true Sully fashion, he’s brushed it under the rug.
“Why are you here, Sullivan?” I lean against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I need to ask you something, and I know this might seem a little out of left field, but it’s been on my mind.”
I can’t help but narrow my eyes at him, intuition telling me whatever his question is will piss me off even more than I already am. “What’s that, amico?”
“Is there something going on between you and Vinnie Paladino?”
A rush of endorphins drops through my body, spiking my heart rate. My stomach somersaults as my jaw locks. I feel like a child who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. “Why would you ask me that?”
