S.E.C.R.E.T. Revealed (Secret 3)

“As are you.”

I turned to face him. “Thank you, Dominic, for … tackling all these odd jobs. And for that …” I said, pointing to the tub. “Now what?”

“Well, now I suggest you rest a bit. And let me take care of that dishwasher and anything else you might want me to fix before I go.”

“I can think of a few things on my to-do list,” I said, throwing a shy smile at him from the mirror.

He plucked his clothes from the floor and left me standing very still in the bathroom, my legs quaking, the windows all steamed up. I did it. I did something I’ve never done before: I just got laid by a beautiful young man I will probably never see again. And I’m … I’m proud of myself.

I made my way over to my bed, peeled back the duvet, dropped my robe to the floor and slid naked between my cool sheets. Closing my eyes, I let my hand travel down to where I was just starting to feel a little sore. Ow. Wow. I heard him downstairs as he started and stopped the dishwasher. Then I heard the plink plink of tinkering and repairing. Nice.

Drifting off, I was thinking of at least one more thing he might be able to tackle before he left. Just one more thing …

CASSIE

It had all happened so fast. Something had told me not to bring Will to that S.E.C.R.E.T. charity event. But I didn’t listen. Something had also told me to pull him away from Pierre Castille the second he opened his mouth to reveal the truth of my involvement in S.E.C.R.E.T.—the sex, the fantasies, the men—using the vilest of terms, slut, bitch, whore.

But I froze in the dark corner of Latrobe’s that fateful night. I said nothing when Pierre told Will that S.E.C.R.E.T.’s mandate was to “use and discard men.” When Pierre spat out that I’d do that to Will, too, if he let me, it looked like Will believed him.

How many men, Cassie? How many? And since when?

Secrets and lies now surrounded me the way they’d surrounded his ex, Tracina, a woman who had convinced Will for the better part of a year that the baby she was carrying was his. It had been only a month since he heartbreakingly discovered that that wasn’t true, that the baby was the product of her affair with Carruthers Johnstone, the once-married-now-separated DA she really loved. Not that Will had loved Tracina. He hadn’t, but he had so loved the idea of the baby. I had hoped our blissful reunion would help heal his wounds over that, but they were gaping once more, and I was the one who had ripped out his stitches.

“I–I’m sorry I never told you everything before, Will, but I was worried you’d react like this,” I stammered.

My hands on his chest, I tried to explain to him what S.E.C.R.E.T was about, what it had done for me. But he wasn’t listening. He was glaring at Jesse Turnbull, my ex-lover and now friend, who had come to find me, to see if I was okay.

“Was he from this year’s roster or was he last year’s model, Cassie?” Will hissed. “Maybe you’re into having him spank you too.”

Jesse took a step forward. He had already decked Pierre and I had no doubt that if necessary he’d do the same to Will.

“I’ve had enough bedroom drama to last me a fucking lifetime,” Will said before storming out of Latrobe’s, leaving me in a pile for Jesse to gather up and carry home.

And just like that, Will Foret was no longer in love with me.

On the way home from Latrobe’s, I was inconsolable. Jesse tried to explain that Will wasn’t rejecting me, he was rejecting the duplicity. I listened, watching the city smear past me in the passenger window. He pulled the truck up to the curb in front of the Spinster Hotel, shutting off the engine. He turned to face me.

“Want me to come up?”

When the love of your life tosses you over because of your past, it’s easy to imagine running into the arms of the man who accepts everything about you, especially when those arms are warm and taut and welcoming. But while I did invite Jesse upstairs, I didn’t so much as kiss him.

While he boiled water for tea, I slipped out of that awful, beautiful black satin dress and pulled on my sweats. While the tea steeped, I sobbed for a few minutes on the futon couch, pushing away my cat Dixie’s attempts to comfort me. Jesse sat beside me and listened. From time to time, he’d lay a reassuring arm on my forearm, telling me everything would be okay, that Will would come around, that I had done nothing wrong, and that I just had to be patient.

“You heard him tonight, Jesse,” I said, tossing another ball of spent tissue onto my coffee table. “He’s done.”

Jesse studied my face for an opening. He was going to be honest with me and I could already tell I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“Well, here’s the thing, Cassie. I’m a man … and I’m thinking … after the year that guy’s had, I’d be scared too.”

“He’s not scared, he’s pissed.”

“Let me tell you something about men, Cassie. When we get scared we don’t show ‘scared,’ we show ‘angry.’ ”

Maybe there was some truth in all that, but I wasn’t ready to let Will off the hook, or myself.

“Nah. He’s thinking, ‘What a fucking whore, glad I found out now.’ ”

It was a tossed-off statement, but Jesse leaned towards me, peering into my face like a concerned doctor. “Why would you say something like that, Cass?”