Eighteen

Blair

First thing I did was throw out that stupid anniversary cake, hurling it into the trash with all the might I could muster.

Asshole! How could you do this to me?

Then I spent the night curled into one corner of the couch, crying my eyes out. Bisou eventually found her way over to me and snuggled up in my lap, but it only made me bawl harder.

God, I was so dumb! So naive! Of course he was just in it for the sex! When had a guy ever truly felt something for me, felt it enough to commit to something that would last?

Never. That was the hard truth. Yet I’d been sucked into believing in the possibility, because deep down, Griffin was right—I was nothing but a little girl who wanted to believe in fairy tales.

“Maybe it’s time for some rules of my own, Bisou,” I whispered fiercely to the cat. “Number one—no more believing everything a man says, because they lie. All of them.”

The cat meowed in agreement.

“Number two—I will work and save, so that I am never dependent on a man again. I will always be able to support myself.”

The cat raised a paw, almost like she wanted a high five, so I gave her one.

Then I thought for a moment. “And number three—I will not get my heart set on anything, because it never ends well.”

Bisou was silent, and another sob worked its way up from my chest. Burying my face in a pillow so Griffin wouldn’t hear me, I cried until my eyes ran dry, and I fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning, Griffin was gone. With a lump in my throat and horribly puffy eyes, I walked to the bathroom, which was where I discovered I’d gotten my period.

Relieved that at least I didn’t have to worry about an unplanned pregnancy, I cleaned up, got dressed, and packed my suitcase. Then I sat on the bed and called Frannie MacAllister.

“Hello?”

“Hi Frannie. It’s Blair Beaufort.”

“Hey, Blair! How are things?”

“They’re fine.” I swallowed hard. “Listen, my plans have changed a little, and it turns out I can move up to Cloverleigh Farms sooner than I thought.”

“Oh.” A beat went by. “Are you okay?”

“Well, yes and no,” I said. “Physically, I’m okay, but something happened, and I need to leave Bellamy Creek.” To my horror, I started crying again. “I’m sorry, Frannie. This is so embarrassing. But if I can get myself up to Cloverleigh today, would the apartment possibly be ready for me now?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “But how are you going to get here? Is your car fixed?”

I’d told Frannie the story of getting stranded in Bellamy Creek during my interview. At the time, we’d thought it was funny. She’d guessed at my feelings for Griffin based on the way I spoke about him, and we’d laughed that if things worked out, we’d have quite the story for our grandchildren someday. Now it seemed ridiculous I’d even entertained the idea of a future together.

“Not yet,” I admitted. “Apparently the guy shipped the parts to the wrong address. But I have some cash saved, and I’m going to try to rent a car.”

“Listen. Let me call Mack at work and see how busy he is today. Maybe he can come get you.”

“No, please,” I begged, sniffing. “You’re so sweet to offer, but your family is doing enough for me already.”

“Nonsense. I’m calling him. If he’s in a meeting, he might not get back to me right away, but don’t worry, Blair. We’ll get you up here as quickly as possible.”

“Thank you so much, Frannie. I really appreciate it.”

We hung up, and I looked over at the closet door, where my debutante dress still hung. The sight of it brought a fresh round of tears as I recalled different moments—regaining consciousness in Griffin’s arms after fainting, his nervous fingers unzipping it later that night, putting it on and pretending to be the princess in the tower.

I had to admit, a lot of our relationship had been about the sex. But all of it?

I thought back to other times, moments that didn’t have anything to do with sex. Sweet, thoughtful things he’d said or done. Helping me out of the truck. Refusing to let me sleep in my car. Teaching me how to jump a dead battery. Doing the dishes after we cooked dinner together. Encouraging me to chase my dreams. Telling me things about his dad. Confiding in me about the sadness he felt after the miscarriage.

Was all that a lie?

Damn it, Griffin, I thought, wiping away tears. Which version of you is real? The tough, temperamental asshole who tore my heart out last night and stomped on it? Or the good guy with the big heart hiding behind protective defenses?

I had to face the fact that I might not ever know.

Around noon, I put on some lipstick, stuck my sunglasses on to cover my red, swollen eyes, and dredged up the courage to go down to the garage and tell Griffin goodbye. I’d heard back from Frannie, and her husband Mack would be in Bellamy Creek around five o’clock to pick me up. Until then, I’d find somewhere to wait that wasn’t full of memories of the two of us.

Carrying a folder under one arm, I entered the lobby. At the desk was a platinum blond woman I didn’t recognize, chewing gum and filing her nails. “Hi there,” she said. “If you’re looking for the baked goods, we don’t have any this morning, not even if you pay me.”

“Uh, I’m Blair,” I said. “You must be Lanette?”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re Blair?”

“Yes.” I set the file folder on the counter. “I just wanted to drop this off. Inside are all the details for the anniversary event. You’ll find—”

“Do you know how many people came in here looking for you this morning?” Lanette shook her head, her bob swinging. “Like, a hundred. You are very popular.”

“That’s nice, but—”

“I thought Mr. Frankel was going to cry when I said you’d quit.”

“Quit?”

“That’s what Griffin told me when he called. He said your car would be ready today so he thought you might be heading out of town sooner than expected. You’ve got another job somewhere or something?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling confused. My car would be ready today?

“He also made me promise I wouldn’t call his mother and say anything about you leaving. Paid me an extra twenty for it too.” She tilted her head. “Are you okay, honey? You look kinda pale.”

“Is Griffin here?” I asked, glancing at the door to the garage.

“I assume so. You want me to go get him?”

“Yes, thank you. If he’s not too busy, I need to speak with him.”

“Sure thing.” She hurried from behind the desk into the service bay.

A moment later, she appeared again. “He says he’ll be right out.”

“Thank you.” I faced the window, looking out at the sidewalk and trying to keep my composure.

A few minutes later, I heard his voice.

“Blair.”

I turned to see Griffin standing there in the doorway, tall and solid as a fortress. His blue eyes were bloodshot, his hands curled into fists, but his expression gave nothing away.