Heartbreak You (Heartbreak Duet 2)

“How’s Sydney?” I haven’t seen Sydney since the night she picked me up from the police station, and I’m not sure how much of her I’m ready to see again.

“She’s good. Atlas is throwing her a work birthday party, at the casino in his private room.” I roll my eyes at the mention of his private rooms. I’ve been to one and didn’t like it very much. “And she did ask that I bring you. If you’re comfortable with it… that is.”

“When is it?”

“Two weeks.”

That will mark a month since I’ve seen him.

“Do you want me there?” I ask.

“Only if you’re comfortable. He will be there.”

“Yes, I know. I don’t care. But do you want me there?” She sits on the floor next to me.

“Yes. Her mother is coming, and I’ll be the first girl she’s ever introduced to her. So, yes, I would like you to come, but I understand if you can’t or don’t want to.” She starts folding the clothes I pulled out.

“Of course, I will.”

She looks up, holding a baby pink shirt in her hand. “You will?” she asks cheerfully, and then her voice drops. “What about Atlas?”

“It will be fine. I’m sure he can be civil for one night. I know I can.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

Two weeks fly by, and in that time, I’ve signed off and decided on my first twenty outfit sets I plan to sell on my website. I’m sticking to a small number of options, so I don’t go overboard or become overloaded, and to ensure they sell.

Derek made me an office, it has a vibrancy in it that Tina helped with, picking bright colors and I love it. Tina let him in my house one day when I was out, and I came home to him shirtless and sweating. I have to say that was a nice sight, but that was as far as it went. I know better, and to be honest, he doesn’t excite me in that way.

Only one man has been able to pull any of that type of emotion from me. And he isn’t someone I want to give them to anymore.

I pull on my red dress—it’s ultra-sexy, stopping at mid-thigh—and I pair it with some black heels.

After checking myself in the mirror, I pick up my clutch and cell and head to the Uber waiting outside. After a short ride, I step out with my blonde hair flowing in long waves down my back as I walk into the casino.

I know which way to go, so I push off in that direction. I know Tina’s already here since she has messaged me five times, asking me if I have arrived. When I get to a very familiar door, a man is standing there with a clipboard. The last time I went through here, I was used to distract another man to lose his money. Tonight, I will not have to do any of those things. Tonight’s about me enjoying myself instead.

“Name,” he snaps, not even looking up.

“Thea.” He looks through the names and shakes his head.

“Not on the list,” he says, then motions for me to step away.

I pull out my cell and go to text Tina, but before I can, someone steps up next to me.

“Theadora,” Atlas says to the doorman. The doorman doesn’t even look at the names, just nods and steps to the side, letting us in. He goes to start walking, but I stay where I am, not wanting to look up at Atlas or even acknowledge his existence. He doesn’t deserve that from me.

Atlas walked out on me, not the other way around.

I thought we were good.

That we were maybe trying for more, but then everything fell apart. It still hurts to think of how he could throw me away so easily.

“Theadora, are you coming, or do you plan to stand there all night and not look at me?” he asks.

I continue to ignore him, looking away. It‘s only when I hear his retreating footsteps that I turn around to enter.

“Name,” the man says again.

“Are you serious? I haven’t moved,” I say in disbelief. “Theadora,” I repeat at his disdainful stare.

The doorman steps to the side to let me in.

What an idiot.

Huffing as I walk past the damn fool, I go inside. It’s different from how it was the last time I was here. Tonight, the room is darker, and the waitresses walk around holding drink trays and are dressed in full clothing, no playing tables are anywhere in sight, only tables with snacks on them. I spot Tina straight away and walk over to her, and she smiles when she sees me. I pull out a small present from my clutch and hand it to Sydney who’s standing close by.

“I don’t do gifts,” is all Sydney says, looking at what I have in my hand as if it’s some kind of poison.