Not Cut Out For This

Cassie

I could rarely attend Jack’s afternoon home games because of work, so I was following a game online when my cell phone sang its Melissa ringtone. I reached for it, silencing it immediately. I answered it quietly, “What’s up, girl?”

“I know we said no more, but I have to tell you something.”

My chest tightened as I held my breath. “What?”

“Chrystle sold her story to a tabloid.”

My stomach dropped. “What story exactly?” I managed to ask through my shock.

“Oh, the one where you’re a home-wrecking whore who stole her husband after she lost their baby to a miscarriage.”

My head started to pound as the walls of the office spun around me. I clutched the phone tight against my cheek, willing the bile rising in my throat to subside.

“Cass, are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“There’s more.”

“More?” I choked out, wondering what more there could possibly be.

“There are pictures online of their wedding. And pictures of you. And the article is filled with lies. People are eating it up, Cass. Believing every word of that lying bitch’s story. The message boards online are blowing up calling you a home wrecker and the devil. It’s crazy!”

My body started to tremble with fury. I hated Chrystle so much for everything she’d done to come between me and Jack. And here I’d thought she was out of lives for good. “Why won’t she just go away?”

“’Cause she’s a money-hungry publicity whore. I’m going to fucking kill her. Straight up murder the bitch.”

I managed a chuckle through my rage-filled tears. “Me first.”

“Cassie, can I see you please?” Nora shouted across the bustling office floor.

“Meli, I have to go. My boss is calling me.” I tossed my phone into a drawer before my nervous legs walked me into Nora’s office. Her walls were covered with various magazine covers from over the years and pictures of Nora with celebrities and local politicians.

“Close the door and come sit,” she said, not looking up as I entered. I did as she requested, shaking as I collapsed into the overstuffed white leather chair. “Talk to me about this article that just came out.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked, my eyes instantly welling.

She leaned forward onto her elbows and looked directly at me. “How much of it is true?”

“I just found out about it, so I’m not quite sure what it says.”

“Was Jack married to this person?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“And she got pregnant.” I could tell she assumed those parts of the story were accurate.

“No. She lied to him. She told him she was pregnant, but she never was. The minute Jack found out, he left her.”

“So he didn’t leave her for you?”

“He was with me first.” I suddenly wanted to defend what Jack and I had in the past, before Chrystle came along and fucked it all up. “We were together when he met her.”

“So he cheated on you?” she asked matter-of-factly.

“Yeah.”

“Did she know about you?” Nora eyed me, and I sensed that an idea was coursing through that brain of hers.

“She knew about me. She didn’t care. She said that she always wanted a baseball-playing husband, so that’s what she got.” Anger and embarrassment collided within me as I struggled to keep my emotions balanced.

“Do you want to address this article publicly? We could make a statement on your behalf, disputing all of this woman’s claims and accusations.” Nora folded her hands together and rested her chin on top. “Or we could run a counter article on you and Jack.”

I hadn’t even thought about defending myself. In the past months, I’d learned to keep quiet when it came to all the things people wrote about me. I was told standing up for myself would end up making me look worse, which I never understood, but I had to agree with because I didn’t know what else to do.

“If you fight back they’ll attack even harder,” Melissa’s mom had advised me at one point. “Don’t give them any more ammunition. People like that love getting a reaction out of you. So when they don’t get what they want, they eventually move on.” But they hadn’t moved on.

“Is that what you think I should do?” I asked Nora. “Make a statement? Won’t it make it worse?”

Her brow furrowed. “Possibly. Let me think on it for a couple days.”

“OK.”

“I worry about you. I don’t know how you put up with all of this crap. Being with this guy sure has its downfalls, doesn’t it? I hope he’s worth it.”

My lungs constricted as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. I wanted to choke, but couldn’t. I struggled to keep my composure as the tears spilled out. And just like that, I broke down. I couldn’t take it anymore. The bad press, the constant harassment, the online sites judging me every day. It had become too much weight to carry.

“Oh dear.” Nora pushed back from her desk and walked over to me. “I’m sorry. I just meant that it’s a lot to take.”

“I know. It’s not what you said; it’s how I feel,” I tried to explain through my sobs.

“Why don’t you take a few days off? Go clear your head. Hell, take a vacation or something. Get out of the city for a while.”

I wiped at my eyes and sniffled. “Maybe I’ll fly home. Are you sure that’s OK?”

“Absolutely. We’ll come up with a game plan when you get back.” She squeezed my shoulder before returning to her chair.

“Thank you, Nora.” I forced a smile before walking out of her office. I gathered my things, typed a quick out-of-office notification for my e-mail, and turned my computer off. I stopped at the lobby store, grabbing a copy of the tabloid as my legs wobbled. The wedding picture of Jack with Chrystle caused me sharp stabs of pain as I stared at it.

Mortified, I tucked the tabloid under my arm and walked outside. I couldn’t take the subway home, I’d never last surrounded by all those people, so I called the only person I could think of while I walked back into the lobby.

“Matteo, can you come get you from work and bring me home?” My voice was shaking as I practically begged.

“Of course. Are you OK, Cassie?”

“Yeah. I just need a ride home please.” He knew I was lying, but he didn’t press the issue.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Matteo arrived right on time, and I headed out of the lobby doors toward the car. He rushed out of the driver’s seat, concern written all over his face. He took me by the hand, opening the door for me and closing it softly. Once inside, I buckled myself in and waited for the inquisition that never came. If he had a million questions, he wasn’t asking any.

Matteo pulled the car up in front of my building as hordes of cameramen surrounded it. “Oh my God,” I said, the shock clearly written all over my face.

“Cassie, what’s going on?” Matteo asked.

The press realized it was me in the car, and it took less than two seconds for them to swarm the side I sat on, cameras flashing nonstop, practically blinding me, even in the daylight. “I got this,” Matteo said before exiting the car. I heard him demand they move as he opened my door and helped me out. I lowered my head upon exiting, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

Reporters shouted questions while Matteo wrapped a protective arm around me and pushed through the crowd.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

“Did Jack leave her for you?”

“Were you having an affair with Jack while he was still married?”

“Do you think stress made her lose the baby?”

“Leave her alone!” he shouted, trying to get me into my building.

Once inside the building, the doorman blocked the reporters while Matteo shielded me from view and pressed the button on the elevator. He stayed by my side until it opened. “Thank you,” I said through watery eyes.

“Are you going to be OK? Are you sure you want to be alone right now?” He held the elevator door open with his hand.

“You have to go get Jack soon, right? I’ll be fine until he gets home. But I might need you to drive me somewhere later. I’ll call you if I do,” I said, knowing I was being cryptic.

“Whatever you need, I’ll be there for you,” he reassured me.

“Thanks again.” I swallowed before allowing the doors to close and block everything but my own reflection from view.

In the security of our apartment, I collapsed onto our bed, tucking my knees into my chest. I allowed my tears to spill out onto my pillow. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. I’d never experienced someone so vindictive and cruel, and I hadn’t even read the damn article yet.

I flashed back to being at Fullton, when reports started coming in about Jack getting married and how I was portrayed as the woman left behind. I thought I’d never experience pain and humiliation like that again, but this was far worse. Now that Jack played in the major leagues, everything was amplified. Our lives weren’t simply a local story anymore; they were national news. And this Chrystle story garnered everyone’s attention.

My stomach twisted and turned as I tried to block it all out, but failed. My cell phone rang, causing me to jump as I looked at the number flashing on the screen. I didn’t recognize it, but answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“Is this Cassie Andrews?” a male voice asked on the other end of the line.

I hesitated. “It is.”

“I wanted to ask you a few questions about the article today for our website, OK?”

“No, it’s not OK. How’d you get this number? Don’t call again.”

Horrified, I ended the call as quickly as I could. I guess I should have been surprised it took them this long to track me down, but I was completely losing it. I didn’t want the press to have my phone number. I hated it enough that they knew where we lived.

I closed my eyes after putting my phone on silent, falling into the comfort of sleep. The sound of the door slamming woke me.

“Cass? Cassie? Where are you?” Jack’s voice was frantic as the sound of his footsteps beat against the wood flooring. I stayed silent, knowing that he’d eventually find me in here.

“Kitten. Are you OK?” He curled next to me in the bed, holding my shaking body in his arms. All I wanted to do was run. Literally. “Talk to me, Cass.”

“Are they still downstairs? The press?” I avoided looking at him.

“Yeah. They’re fucking vultures.”

I pushed off the bed and walked into the kitchen. I opened the cupboard and pulled out a glass. Filling it with water, I gulped the entire thing down. “How did you hear about the article?”

“The team’s publicist saw it and alerted me. He’s putting out an official statement on my behalf.”

“What is your statement?” I asked, placing the glass down on the cold granite countertop.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I started getting pissed, the heat rising in my belly.

“The team makes a statement, and I’m required to go along with it,” he told me, trying to make me feel better but failing miserably.

“What if you don’t agree with it? What if it’s a horrible, stupid statement? You’re just supposed to smile and nod your head?”

“That’s what happens, Kitten. They put out a statement that’s best for the team, and I’m supposed to agree with it. I have no say.”

I turned my back to him, storming into our bedroom. “That’s fucking ridiculous! This is your life we’re talking about! And my life. These are horrible lies about you and about me. We can’t just sit here and agree with some statement you didn’t even make.”

He followed right behind me. “What do you want to do? Make our own statement?”

I grabbed my running shoes from the closet. “I have to get the fuck out of here.” The heat spread quickly throughout my entire body as my temper flared beyond control.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?”

“You’re not the only one with a temper, Jack. Just because I don’t go around putting my fist in people’s faces doesn’t mean I don’t lose my shit!”

“Running away isn’t really showing you have a temper. It just shows you have…” he paused, “legs.”

I laced up my gym shoes. “Just leave me alone.”

“See? Legs for running away instead of staying here and talking it out!” he yelled, his voice frustrated.

“I can’t think clearly when I’m around you. I need to be away from you.” His eyes. His face. They all distracted me from my internal thoughts.

I slammed the door and walked down the stairs to our gym, thankful it was empty. I turned on a treadmill before plugging into my iPod. The music of Imagine Dragons blasted in my ears as I started running faster and faster, all the frustration from the last few months pouring out in beads of sweat across my forehead. Wishing I could stomp out all the blog posts, newspaper articles, gossip columns, message board threads, and Chrystle from my memory with each step, I slammed my feet against the moving surface.

After an hour of running on pure adrenaline, nothing changed. I didn’t feel better, relieved, or calmed. The same pressures and hurt remained. I realized this was something I could no longer ignore.

I wasn’t happy.

The past four months had helped dissolve my strength into a puddle of self-doubt and misery. Being with Jack meant accepting all the other things that came with it, and I hated it. My head pounded as I walked back into our apartment. Ignoring Jack, I moved past him and into the shower. He tried to follow me, but I closed and locked the door. I took my time, hoping the hot water would wash away my doubts, but nothing helped. Afterward, I towel dried my hair before emerging with another towel wrapped around my body.

Jack sat on our bed, watching my every move as I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top.

“I didn’t sign up for this, Jack.” I snapped my eyes shut, willing the online pictures and tabloid article to disappear from my mind.

“You didn’t sign up for what exactly?” he asked cautiously, his head tilting to one side.

I sighed. “I didn’t sign up for this life. This constant invasion of privacy… this scrutiny. This judgment. People get to say and write whatever they want about me, and I just have to sit here and take it. I can’t deal with it anymore.”

The tears started to fall, and I didn’t bother to stop them. “Did you know that my pictures are plastered all over websites where people get to vote on whether or not they think I’m hot enough for you?” I screamed through my frustration.

Logically I knew it wasn’t Jack’s fault, but my embarrassment overruled all logic at the moment. “Do you know how horrible that feels? To be judged on my looks by a bunch of fucking strangers? Heaven forbid I’m actually a good person who loves her boyfriend and works hard and treats people well. But that doesn’t count. None of that matters!”

I threw my hands out, shaking my head. “It’s all about what I wear and how my hair looks and how much weight I need to lose. Why do people think it’s OK to tear apart the way I look? Did you know there’s an entire thread on the baseball website dedicated to hating me? Not liking me, but hating me. What the hell did I even do to anyone?”

“What? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked. “I’ll have administration get that shit taken down right now! I will not have any threads about you on a baseball website. Unless it’s good stuff.” He forced a small smile, his dimples barely showing.

“I’ve been called every name in the book. Whore, slut, gold digger, ugly, fat, bitch, cunt, tramp, cleat chaser… and I can’t fucking take it, Jack. I don’t know how anyone does.”

“What are you saying, Kitten?” He took two steps toward me, and I instinctively stepped back.

“I don’t know what I’m saying.” My heart battered against my chest as I denied the truth. I knew exactly what I was saying… I just apparently couldn’t form the actual words.

He started nervously pacing. In all honesty, my nerves even overwhelmed me in that moment. “Don’t do anything stupid, Cass. You know we’re no good without each other.”

I nodded my head as more tears escaped. “I’m not sure we’re any good with each other either.”

“You don’t mean that. You’re just upset.” Jack’s voice shook as he shoved his hands into his front pockets. When I didn’t respond, he begged, “Don’t do this. Don’t you dare give up on us.”

“I feel like I’m losing myself.” I turned away, unable to bear the look in his eyes. “Being in this relationship with you is completely fucking with me,” I admitted, the tears falling down my cheeks without mercy. Guilt rushed through me as my words spilled out. I never intended to admit all of this to him during the baseball season. I wanted to be strong enough to get through it on my own, to talk to him when the season ended, but I couldn’t take any more. My insides had wound up so tight I thought they might shatter. Chrystle’s accusatory article was the last straw.

Jack stepped closer, his arms resting on my shoulders as he turned me toward him. “You don’t get to quit,” he said, reaching for my chin with shaky hands. “You don’t get to walk away from this.”

I wanted to throw up. My feelings contorted inside of me, the conflict raging once again. Part of me wanted to bolt as quickly as I could from everything Jack Carter, while the rest of me wanted to tangle myself up in his arms and never let go.

“I need to figure out how to be with you and still keep my sanity. I feel like a crazed lunatic. Like I have absolutely no control over my life. I can’t keep living like this.” I sobbed until my vision blurred.

He led me toward our couch, pulling me down with him as I cried into his chest. How had I become so twisted up and confused? I knew I loved Jack, but I wasn’t sure I could be with him like this any longer. I pulled away from his grip, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand as he returned to the view, as gorgeous as ever.

He cupped my cheek, moisture filling his dark eyes. “I don’t want to be here without you. We can fix this. But we can’t fix it if you walk away. I can’t make us work by myself.”

“I just need to find some sort of balance. Between your work and my work and all the pressure that comes along with it—” I stopped as I tried to gather my thoughts. “It’s just too much. I need to get myself together. I’m falling apart here.”

He leaned his head into his hands, his fingers tugging at his dark hair. I watched his chest rise and fall, his head shaking before he turned to look at me. “Fine,” he started with a ragged breath. “Get yourself together, then. But don’t you fucking quit on me. After everything we’ve been through, please don’t let this break us.”

Tears ran down my cheeks with his words. I loved Jack, but this was about me. Loving Jack put my own self-worth at risk. A girl could only take so much bashing and criticism from so many fronts until her self-esteem started to take a nosedive. And that wasn’t healthy for either of us.

“I’m going to take a few days off from work and go stay with Melissa.” The words flew from my lips effortlessly. I hadn’t even talked to Melissa, but I knew she would welcome me.

He lowered his head, the look of defeat replacing any hope he once had. “OK, Kitten. You go.”

I nodded, reaching for my cell phone and dialing Matteo’s number. “Hi, Matteo, it’s Cassie. Can you get me to JFK as soon as possible, or are you busy?”

Matteo asked me to hold for a moment while he rearranged his schedule with another driver. I waited, avoiding all eye contact with Jack. Matteo came back on the line, informing me that he’d pick me up in twenty minutes and he’d call me when he was downstairs. I thanked him before I ended the call and turned the ringer back on.

Whether I wanted to or not, it was time to pack.

I sensed Jack watching me from the doorway of the bedroom we shared as I tossed pieces of clothing into my open suitcase. Deliberately, I forced myself not to look at him. He could take the broken parts of me and shatter them even further. If I looked at him, I’d question everything. He could make me stay, and I desperately needed to go. After adding two more pairs of shoes, I zipped up the suitcase and lifted it from the bed.

“Let me help you,” he offered from behind me, his breath gliding across my back.

“It’s fine. I have it,” I said tightly, refusing to face him.

“How long will you be gone?” he asked, his tone desolate.

I shrugged, unsure of my actual plans. “I don’t know. A few days. A week, maybe. I’ll text you,” I offered with a glance in his direction.

Jack’s face turned sullen as the color drained instantly from his cheeks. He reached for me, his fingers tightening around my wrist, stopping all forward movement. “You are coming back. Right, Kitten?” A look of powerlessness covered his face.

My stomach dropped to my feet with his question. I took a few short breaths before responding, “Yes, Jack. I’m coming back.”

It wasn’t a lie, but the truth was almost as painful. Of course I would come back, but I wasn’t sure what I’d be coming back to. “I have a job here.”

His eyebrows pinched together, tears filling his eyes as he let go of my arm. My phone rang, breaking the sorrow-filled heaviness in the room. “Hi, Matteo. OK, I’ll be right down.”

“I need to go.” I leaned toward Jack and planted a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to walk away.

He gripped my wrist from behind and yanked me around to face him. “Get over here,” he said roughly as he pulled my body effortlessly into his. Before I could situate my arms, his were wrapped around me, pulling me tight against his heaving chest.

Oh my God, he’s crying.

“I love you more than anything. You need to know that before you walk out that door.” The warmth of his breath fluttered against my skin. My eyes met his, and the tears that rolled down his cheeks caused my heart to shatter.

“I love you too.” My current dysfunction had nothing to do with my feelings for Jack. I loved him more than I ever thought possible. But sometimes love wasn’t enough, and in order to be with him forever, I needed to make sure I could handle whatever came my way.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy. Anything, Kitten. You just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. You want to file a lawsuit against Chrystle, I’ll start the paperwork tomorrow. You want me to quit baseball? I’ll stop playing.”

It pained me to hear his voice sounding this desperate, this needy. “That’s not what I want,” I choked out, my jagged heart beating out painfully piercing beats. “Right now I just need some space.”

He peeled his arms from my body, and I instantly craved their attention again, but refused to give in. “OK. Space,” he breathed out in response, his cheeks tearstained. “But not forever. I won’t let you quit on us. I know this is all my fault. One fucking mistake that never goes away. I’m so sorry about all of it.”

“I know you are,” I whispered. “I am too.”

I pulled my suitcase out the front door, leaving Jack behind.

I walked out of the elevator, noticing the gaggle of press still gathered outside our building. Seeing me, the cameras started flashing against the glass of the window as they fought over one another for the best shot. Matteo lunged through them on his way to reach me. Blocking me from view once again, he grabbed my suitcase while keeping a tight hold on my body.

Stepping outside, I was bombarded by the press shouting their questions.

“Where are you going, Cassie?”

“Did you and Jack split up?”

“Is he going back to Chrystle?”

“Why are you leaving?”

“Why are you crying?”

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for them to shut the hell up and mind their own business. They didn’t know anything about our relationship and their stupid assumptions drove me nuts. Matteo opened up the passenger door, and I shook my head, opting for the rear seat, which had privacy glass on the windows. I watched as some of the paparazzi scattered, and I assumed they were heading for their cars so they could follow me.

He opened the door for me and ushered me inside. “Are you OK?”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I will be.”

“Are you and Jack alright?” he asked as he pulled the car onto Second Avenue.

Unsure of how much I wanted to confide in Matteo at the moment, I opted for the easy way out. “I’m not sure.”

Matteo checked the rearview mirror a few times before I asked, “Are they following us?”

“I don’t think so. I can usually tell if they’re around us because they drive like assholes, but I don’t see anyone.”

“Good.”

“Cassie?” His voice questioned and I simply looked in his direction. “You know I’m here if you need me.”

I forced a polite smile. “I know. Thank you.”

We drove the rest of the way in silence. My brain turned inside my skull, causing more confusion, questions, and pain. I closed my eyes as the sound of my cell phone beeping filtered into my ears.

I read the text message from Jack.

I love you. I wish there were different words that I could say, but no one’s been clever enough to invent any yet. So it’s all I’ve got. But it’s everything. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please come home soon.

Half tempted to ask Matteo to turn the car around, I turned my phone off instead. Another text message like that, and I would go back. I’d never leave.

And I’d probably become a shell of a person who secretly resented everything her life had become. Because the problems and issues would still remain. I needed to fix this. I needed to fix me. Before I knew it, the car screeched to a stop in front of the airline terminal. I pushed out of the backseat with the help of Matteo’s outstretched, muscular hand.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me against his chiseled body.

God, he smells good.

“You’ll be OK.” He patted the length of my hair, his hands sliding down my back slowly. Matteo had never touched me like that before. I sensed deliberation in his movements, but did nothing to stop him.

Why aren’t I stopping him?

“I hate seeing you cry,” he whispered in my ear, before wiping my cheek with his thumb.

Pull away, Cass.

I didn’t move. Nerves surged through my body like waves in the ocean. Forceful and without remorse, they ebbed and flowed from my head to my toes. My knees started to shake as my heart rate quickened.

Pull aw—

Before I could process another thought, Matteo’s soft lips pressed against mine. I tensed quickly at first, shock and disbelief sprinting through my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing the difference in his kiss and his touch to overwhelm my senses. His mouth opened and his tongue pushed up against my lips, begging for entry.

Instantly, my eyes shot open as I pushed away from his Adonis body. I wiped his taste from my lips with the back of my hand before covering my mouth from view. My mind raced to piece together what the hell had just happened and why I’d allowed it.

Fuck, what if someone saw that?

I quickly scanned the area, noting the absence of prying eyes and cameras. I couldn’t be certain there wasn’t someone hiding, but it looked all clear.

Thank the stars.

“Oh God, Cassie. I’m so sorry.” His eyes widened as a look of horror crossed his face. “It broke my fucking heart to see you crying. You’re too beautiful to cry like that. I just wanted to take your tears away and make you happy.”

I processed his words.

I think.

What is he saying exactly?

I refused to move for what seemed like an eternity, but I’m sure it was only a few seconds. “Um,” I stuttered, “I… I have to go.”

I reached into the open trunk of the car, pulling at my suitcase. “Cassie. Look at me,” Matteo said forcefully. I released my grip on my suitcase, turning to face him. “Please don’t tell Jack. I’m so sorry. I never should have done that.”

“Then why did you?” I yelled as embarrassment and anger all competed for the gold medal in my emotional Olympics.

His long, tanned fingers gripped the edge of his jacket. “Oh, come on. Don’t make me say it out loud.”

“Say what out loud? What the hell are you taking about?” I didn’t have time for this. Not tonight. I was already coming apart at the seams; I couldn’t take any more shit from anyone.

Here, Matteo, pull this frayed piece of fabric and watch me fall into particles of skin, clothing, and hair in a big heap on the ground.

“I like you. I didn’t mean to and I know we can never be together, but fuck!” He started pacing.

“What do you mean, you like me?” I shouted at his back. “You don’t fucking like me. We’re friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. That’s all we’ll ever be,” I insisted.

His jaw worked under his fingertips as he continued to pace. “I know. Like I said, I fucked up. I didn’t mean to go and fall in love with you—”

I interrupted, refusing to hear another word. “You are not in love with me! Do you hear me?” I inched closer to his body, my anger rising. “Say it!”

He stopped pacing and shook his head. “Say what?”

“Say you’re not in love with me! You just think you are because we spend so much time together, and you’re supposed to protect me. But you’re not in love with me. Not really. So I want you to fucking say it.” I jabbed my finger into his rock-hard chest repeatedly.

He shrugged his shoulders, no words leaving his lips. I jabbed at him again. “Say it!” And then I lost it. I started crying out of pure frustration. “Say it, damn it!” I insisted, stomping my foot on the concrete.

He took a step toward me, and I firmly placed my hand against his stomach, stopping him cold. “Do you feel something for me? Anything at all?” his voice pleaded.

I wanted to kick him in the nuts right then and there and tell him that pure hatred raced through my veins for him. And well, that was something. But it would have been a lie. “Matteo, I do not feel anything for you other than friendship. I love Jack. I’ve always loved Jack.”

“So you’re not attracted to me? This is purely a one-way street?” His lips formed a snarl, and I fought down the urge to sock him in the jaw. He’d pushed all the wrong buttons tonight.

“I’d have to be dead to not be attracted to you!”

“I knew it!” he shouted, pleased at my apparent revelation.

“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.”

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 710