I took a few moments to get my shit together, knowing I couldn’t afford to let my anger loose here. I was glad that he wouldn’t be returning to the building until the end of the workday—it meant I had plenty of time to find some semblance of calm.
Ejecting the flash drive, I slipped it into the side pocket of my purse. But the images didn’t leave my thoughts as easily as they left the screen of my computer. They remained at the forefront of my mind all day long as I worked, distracting and taunting me.
Dammit, it shouldn’t pain me this much. But it did. Which was why I held onto my anger so tight I thought it would choke me. It staved off the emotional crash I knew I’d experience later, when I finally let myself really feel the full impact of his betrayal.
There were several times throughout the day when, as weak as it made me, I found myself questioning whether the photos were truly what they seemed. There was no denying that they looked bad or that they were as incriminating as hell, but they didn’t show him fucking the brunette.
Surely if Dane had screwed her, the cameraman would have sent photographic proof of it, because he clearly wanted me to believe Dane was cheating on me. Why only send pictures that hinted at it? Maybe he just liked the idea of me being confused and only able to guess.
Who was the bitch anyway? Dane sure seemed to know her well, and he was comfortable enough in her home to venture up to her bedroom.
If there was anything innocent about his association with her, he wouldn’t have lied that his dinner meetings had ran late on those particular evenings. He would have just said he’d visited a friend—or whatever the hell she was to him. So, no, I wasn’t going to let myself hope that he could explain all this away.
At the end of the workday, my phone beeped just as I switched off my computer. I picked up my cell and swiped my thumb over the screen.
It was a message from Dane: Sam and I are waiting for you outside the main entrance.
I ground my teeth and harshly dumped my cell in my purse. Shit, I needed to keep it together. I didn’t want to have a full-on blowout with him in front of Sam. The conversation needed to be had, but not until we were alone. The thing was, Dane didn’t like to wait. He’d easily sense I was pissed. He read me too well. He’d want answers straight away.
What I really needed was to avoid talking with him throughout the journey. That meant I needed to have something else that required my attention; something that would also distract me and keep me preoccupied.
I paused as an idea came to me. Ashley loved to talk on the phone. She could do it for hours. I could call her as I was leaving o-Verve and keep the conversation going until I arrived at Dane’s house. He wouldn’t think anything of it, and he’d probably occupy himself by doing work-related stuff on his phone anyway.
As I made my way to the first floor, I called Ashley. Just as I’d hoped, she was more than happy to talk. Outside, I slipped into the car and gave Dane a too-quick smile without even pausing in my conversation with her. A conversation that turned out to be very easy to keep going.
It wasn’t until we pulled into the courtyard that I said, “I’ve got to go now, Ash.”
“Sure thing, girl,” she said. “See you soon. Tell Mr. Hottie I said hi.”
I ended the call, gave Sam a wave, and followed Dane into the house. He often went straight to his home office, but today he headed to the den and slipped behind the small bar.
He flicked me a look as he poured brandy into a crystal tumbler. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
I folded my arms. “When you made it a habit to retreat to o-Verve of an evening and started attending those dinner meetings that always seemed to run late, I thought you might be avoiding me. Avoiding being here alone with me for some reason, like you worried I’d get caught up in all this and forget it was fake. Did you really go to o-Verve on those evenings, Dane? Did those meetings really run so late? Or were you spending some time elsewhere?”
Frowning, he set down the brandy bottle. “What is this, Vienna?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Because I’m wondering why you’d even ask it.”
“You stipulated that neither of us would sleep with anyone while we were faking being a couple.”
One brow arched. “Are you accusing me of not following that stipulation?”
“Just answer my question, Dane.”