“Are you?”
Her shoulders slumped, and her throat burned with shame. She made herself nod.
“Michael doesn’t know, does he? He never would’ve taken you here if he knew. You should tell him.”
All she could do was shake her head. Anytime people learned about her disorder, they started walking on eggshells around her. It strained the relationship until they found a way to leave. She never told people anymore. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to keep some from figuring it out on their own.
“Can I borrow a hundred dollars from you, please? I want to go home.” And her credit card was inside.
“You’re going to leave? Michael’s probably looking for you.”
She doubted that. He’d been busy. As she pushed herself to her feet, she marveled at the disconnect between her body and her mind. How could her limbs still follow orders when her head felt so tired and hollow? “I promise I’ll pay you back.”
“Is this because that chick kissed him? I hope you saw Michael trying to peel her off. He sucks at protecting himself from women.”
Hope sparked, bright and foolish. “Really?”
The door opened, and a swift techno beat radiated from the doorway.
“There you are.” Michael stepped outside, and the door shut behind him, silencing the music. His gaze jumped from her to Quan and back again. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I needed some fresh air.”
Quan’s brow furrowed like he wanted to speak, and Stella held her breath.
Don’t tell him. Don’t tell him. Don’t tell him.
He’d change. Everything would change. And she didn’t want that to happen yet.
“She was trying to borrow cab fare from me. She saw you and that blonde necking and wanted to run,” Quan said.
Her stomach didn’t know if it should relax or knot tighter at his words. He made her sound emotional and possessive. She wished it weren’t true.
“You were going to leave? Just like that?” Michael asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
She stared down at the pavement. “I thought you and her—that you—”
“No. With you right there? Give me some credit, will you? God, Stella.”
He gripped her waist and pulled her against him. His smell, his arms tight around her, his solid presence. Heaven. She shut her eyes and sagged against him.
“Do you want to go back in?” he asked.
“No.” Adrenaline shot through her body, tightening every muscle that had relaxed in his embrace. As an afterthought, she added, “Please.”
“Let’s go home, then.”
{ CHAP+ER }
11
Stella was reserved as they walked the few blocks back to her white Model S. Several times, Michael caught her massaging her temples, but when he asked if she had a headache, her response was an unintelligible mumble. He would have thought she was doing the silent martyr act in retribution for his supposed cheating, but that didn’t seem her style.
No, her style was leaving him without a single word. When Quan had told him she wanted to abandon him at the club, it’d sucker-punched Michael in the gut. The last person to leave him had been his dad. But where Michael’s dad had left him with an enormous mess to clean up, Stella had planned to leave him with her car and her credit card. Who did that?
Even worse, he hadn’t deserved it. Either time.
Tonight, he’d been busy preventing his crazy ex-client from making an enormous scene in front of Stella. Aliza was a true diva and loved drama in all forms. Now that she’d finally succeeded in divorcing her millionaire husband—and taking half of his net worth—she wanted Michael back. She was willing to pay whatever it took.