Page 39 of Love Arranged

With a half smile, half flinch, she snatches the wineglass from my hand, passes me my purse, and pushes me outside before shutting the door behind me.

Damn.

The last person I want to drive me home is Lorenzo, but if it means fixing my slipup and saving Willow’s job, I’ll do it.

Here’s to hoping I don’t break downcrying in the process.

* Fuck.

6

LORENZO

Lily, who seemed mighty confident only a minute ago when she brought up the Eros app, stares at the ground, looking unusually pale. The moonlight reflecting off her skin doesn’t help matters, nor does the beige running outfit she has on.

The color doesn’t suit her, and neither does black or white, which she seems to prefer as of late.

How is this the same woman who once told me her favorite neutral was pink? I can’t make sense of what happened to the confident person I’ve watched from a distance since I first laid eyes on her.

What did she do with the pearl clips in her hair, or what made her no longer tuck flowers into her face-framing braids? And where did her range of pastel clothing go, or the collection of sneakers she wore with ribbons for shoelaces?

It’s like she hit the Factory Reset button on her personality, and while I want to know why she turned into a blank slate of a human being, asking her would make her think I care.

Which I don’t.

I can’t.

She follows me to my truck, her steps slightly uncoordinated. I’m not sure what possesses me to open her door and make sure she gets into the truck’s cab without cracking her head open on the driveway, but I don’t shut it until she’s buckled in.

Whatever drunken bravado she had during her outburst fades, all while the uncomfortable silence between us grows. It’s hard to speak, let alone breathe, in her presence, given her addictive scent of flowers, wine, and something I can’t place.

I’d spend the whole car ride trying to determine what it could be, but her speaking ruins the idea.

“Don’t be angry at Willow,” she says once the lakefront bungalow is in my rearview mirror.

“A little too late for that.”

Her hands clench against her lap. “It wasn’t her fault.”

“Did you force her to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Then she clearly didn’t have a good enough reason to break her NDA.” I keep my attention focused on the road ahead while ignoring the alternating lawn signs supporting either Ludlow or me. Trevor has more, which isn’t a surprise, but I’m pleased by my growing number in Willow’s neighborhood.

“You can’t fire her.” Lily turns to look at me.

I don’t return her stare. “I can do whatever I please after she broke our agreement.”

“No.” She grabs my arm. Usually I find people’s touch repulsive, yet whenever Lily lays a hand on me, my body doesn’t shudder with revulsion. It craves more, and that kind of obsession is exactly why I stayed away from her once we met face-to-face after talking on Eros.

When I tense at the contact, she lets go and clasps her hands together instead. “If you fire her, I’ll make you regret it.”

I can’t help laughing. “Are you threatening me?”

She lifts her chin. “Yes.”

“And pray tell, what will you do if I fire her?”