Page 84
I continue, determined to stick to the plan. “After your date with Hayley, we’ll pick out the two women you’re most interested in, and then we’ll set up a second date with them to see which one works out.”
Jack shrugs again, his tone casual. “I mean, you can start by taking them all out. It’ll be easier that way.”
I feel my patience slipping, but after my apology, I keep my cool. “No, Jack,” I say firmly. “That won’t happen. Your next date is on Friday, Hayley will be available then. So that’s when it’s happening.”
Jack tilts his head slightly, studying me. “Friday, huh?” His expression is a mix of amusement and skepticism. “That won’t be possible. I already have an appointment that day.”
I stare at him, narrowing my eyes. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re seriously backing out of this again?”
He shrugs, not seeming to care that I’m visibly upset. “I’m not backing out. I just have a dinner appointment with someone else.”
I blink, trying to process his words. He has a dinner appointment with someone. That’s like a date. With who? One of the many flings? I’m out here breaking my back to rebuildhis reputation, and he’s just skidding around talking to his old girlfriends and planning dinner with them? My blood boils.
“A dinner appointment? Really?” I feel my voice rising, the frustration bubbling up in my chest. “Is this one of your many ‘appointments’ with your flings?”
His expression doesn’t shift, but I can see the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. He’s not even denying it. And that’s what stings the most. “It’s not your business, Mia. I have a dinner appointment in L.A. on Friday, and that’s all you need to know.”
He pushes away from the table and takes off his apron. “So you go ahead and reschedule this date with Hayley, or it won’t happen.”
I feel my fists clench as I force myself to stay calm. “You can’t escape the date,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’ll call Hayley and see what I can do to reschedule.”
Jack looks at me for a moment, and then that cocky smile creeps across his face. It’s not a good one, not a sincere one. It’s like he’s pleased by my frustration. “Thank you, Mia,” he says, his tone too nonchalant. “Is that all?”
My stomach tightens. “Yes.”
“Then you should leave. I have a lot to do.”
The words hang in the air, and I freeze. I stare at him, trying to process what just happened. Did he really just tell me to leave? To get out? Since when does Jack treat me like this?
I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but the hurt is too real. He’s never been this cold with me before. Not once. Sure, he’s distant, but this… this feels different. This feels like he doesn’t care at all.
I stand there for a second, looking at him, wondering if I should say something else, anything to make this situation feel less hurtful. But I don’t. There’s no point.
So, I turn on my heel, not looking back, and head out the door. His words echo in my head, but I push them down. I can’t let him affect me like this. Not anymore.
But dang it, I can’t help feeling like a fool.
I head to my car, the cool breeze brushing against my arms, but it does nothing to calm the heat rising in my chest.
A dinner appointment in L.A.
With who?
I try not to let my mind go there, but it’s impossible. All the women from his past start blurring together in my head—every actress, model, influencer, and perfect-haired socialite. Is it one of them? Is he just slipping back into the version of himself that is seen with different women every night? Or was I blind to the fact that he never changed and has been this way all along? Maybe that’s why he’s not interested in any of these women. Maybe he was just putting on a show.
God, I hate this feeling. This tight, uncomfortable knot in my stomach that makes me feel… possessive. Jealous. Stupid.
When I reach my car and sit behind the wheel, I open my calendar, staring at the neatly blocked-out slot for Friday’s date with Hayley Bentworth.
Hayley freaking Bentworth.
It took weeks to coordinate that date. Hayley’s schedule is madness—runway shows, store openings, PR interviews. Thewoman barely has time to breathe, let alone move her life around because Jack suddenly has a “dinner appointment.”
Of all the women I’ve introduced to Jack, she’s the closest to his line of work. I decided to go for her, hoping they would have a lot more in common and maybe he’ll finally pick someone. But it looks like this date might not happen.
I should call her now. Let her know the date needs to be shifted. But I don’t move.
Instead, I sit there with my thumb hovering over her name, swallowing the knot in my throat. I should be furious about the scheduling conflict, the lack of professionalism, the way this entire project is teetering on Jack’s mood swings. But all I can think about is his dinner date on Friday.
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