Glancing at the bathroom door one more time, I took a deep breath and opened the email.
From: [email protected]
Did you get the information from the Sterling girl yet?
You need to step up here, Weston. Show me the value you can still bring to this family. We need their bid amount.
The bottom of the email had a signature block:
Oliver I. Lockwood
CEO, Lockwood Hospitality Group
Underneath, was a response:
From: [email protected]
I have it. Just waiting until she’s done to see if anything changes.
I felt like I might throw up. Though that was not exactly what I did when the bathroom door opened.
Chapter 25
* * *
Weston
“This robe is damn comfy,” I walked out of the bathroom rubbing one of the arms. “No wonder you put it on all the time. I thought you were just being modest. Do you think—”
Whack. Something hit my head. Hard.
I reached up and felt wetness, right above my left eyebrow.
Confused, I expected an intruder or something. But instead, what I found when I looked up was one very pissed-off woman.
“What the fuck, Sophia? Did you just throw something at me?”
Her face was bright red. “You piece of shit!”
My cell sat a few feet away on the floor. There was a crack down the middle of the screen. “Was that my phone?” I looked at my fingers. The wetness was blood. “I’m freaking bleeding!”
“Good!”
“Have you lost your mind? You just cracked my head open with my phone!”
“Apparently, I have—for ever having gotten involved with you in any way. Get out, Weston. Get out now!”
“What’s going on? What the hell did I do?”
“What did you do? I’ll tell you what the hell you did. You were born!”
“Soph, I don’t know what crawled up your ass. But whatever you think I did, you don’t throw a damn phone at my head.”
She marched over to the end table and picked up a bedside lamp. “You’re right. This will hurt more. Now get out or it’ll be the next thing to hit your head.”
I held up my hands. “Just tell me what I did—or what the hell you think I did, and I’ll go.”
She stared at me and spoke through gritted teeth. “Did you get what we need from the Sterling girl?”
My face wrinkled up. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Does that not ring a bell? How about I have it. Just waiting until she’s done to see if anything changes.”
Maybe it was the head injury, but even that took a few seconds to sink in. But when it did, it hit me harder than the phone had. I closed my eyes.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
She’d read my emails.
I shook my head. “I can explain.”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
I took a step toward her. “Soph, listen—”
“Don’t take another step!” She went quiet for a long moment. I watched as tears filled her eyes, though she did her best to fight them back. Her voice shook when she finally spoke again. “Just leave. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
When her bottom lip trembled, I felt it in my heart. “I’ll go. But we need to talk, Soph. It’s not what you think.”
A fat tear rolled down her cheek, but she held my gaze steady. “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that email is about something besides you using me to steal information on our bid?”
I swallowed. “No. But—”
She held up her hands. “Please just go, Weston.”
I looked down. “I’ll go. But this isn’t over. We need to talk when you’re calm.”
Not wanting to disrespect her anymore than I already had, I walked to the door. Giving her the space she needed was the very least I could do. So I left quietly, without another word.
Out in the hallway, an older woman stepped out of her room a few doors over. Seeing me, she pulled her cardigan closed and turned her head. It wasn’t until then that I realized I was still wearing only the hotel bathrobe. I’d also left my room key inside, not to mention my now-broken cell phone. Glancing briefly back at Sophia’s suite, I decided knocking was not an option. I’d just have to suck it up and walk down to the lobby like this to get a new room key. And the cell phone…well, that was the least of my worries now. The only thing that mattered was getting Sophia to listen to me.
Though I wasn’t sure even that would fix what I’d destroyed.
***
The next day, I dragged my ass out of bed at seven, though I hadn’t slept a wink. I pulled on a pair of pants and shirt, brushed my teeth, and splashed some water on my face. The Band-Aid I’d stuck on my head last night was darkened with dried blood now, so I changed it to a fresh one. That was the extent of the grooming I could muster. Fuck shaving. Fuck showering.