“He doesn’t answer my calls.” Liv clung to the handle of her Hermès bag. “I’ve been trying for days and he hasn’t answered one.”
Kind of wanted to high-five the man for that particular life choice.
“Can we talk?”
“You want to talk to me?” I asked, surprised.
“Please,” said Liv.
“I don’t know . . .”
She frowned (this was also done in a ridiculously pretty fashion). Her gaze turned confused and oh boy. Perhaps no one had ever dared to deny her. People loved to please the beautiful, rich, and famous. And she was the ultimate triple threat. Meanwhile, Mei gave me a surreptitious shake of the head. She was probably right. There were lots of good reasons to say no. But a big fat tear chose that exact moment to roll down Liv’s cheek and dammit all to hell. It couldn’t have been more perfect if it had been scripted. And I’ve been in her shoes . . . messed up by love. I knew what that was like all too well.
“Would you like a coffee?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Mei shrugged and went about her business. Washed her hands of both of us. Who could blame her?
Once I’d filled two cups with brew, I asked, “Creamer or sugar?”
“No. Thank you.”
I passed her one of the cups before adding sugar to mine. Today would be a two-sugar day on account of it needing all the sweetener it could get. She stood on the other side of the kitchen island. Best for us to have our space.
“What do you want, Liv?” I asked, my voice mostly steady.
“I guess I was curious about you.” While she played with the handle of her coffee cup, she never actually put it near her lips. “You’ve gotten so popular all of a sudden. Seems like I can’t escape you online. Anything mentioning Patrick and there you are. You’re not his normal type. No insult intended.”
“None taken,” I lied.
She looked up at me from beneath her long, dark lashes. “It wasn’t easy, seeing him move on. No doubt you know what happened between us. Everyone knows what happened. And even when it doesn’t quite work out with someone, it’s hard to see them with someone else.”
I just waited.
“But then I heard a rumor . . .” Her shoulders straightened and her chin jutted out. So much self-righteousness. “I’m here because I want to know the truth.”
The woman could only be talking about one damn thing. Shit.
“No,” she said, voice firming. “I need to know the truth.”
“About what, Liv?”
She blinked. “About you and Patrick, of course.”
“Huh.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, tone snappy.
I set down the cup. “It’s means you’re a stranger to me and I don’t owe you a damn thing. Now Jack swears you’re one of the good ones, but right now, I am not seeing it.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but I got there first.
“No. You had your turn. Now it’s time for you to listen,” I said. “Whatever went down between you and Patrick has nothing to do with me. In the same way that my relationship with Patrick has nothing to do with you.”
“Your relationship?”
“Yes.”
She snorted. Even that was oddly attractive. Bitch.
“Did you really think you could just come in here and make demands and I’d just roll over and play dead?”
A flash of guilt crossed her face.
Patrick strode in and his jaw shifted at the sight of Liv Anders. Though Mei must have alerted him to her presence, he still seemed thrown. Guess this was the first time they’d really been together since it all happened. His forehead furrowed and his lips were pressed tight. Not angry exactly. But not happy, either. I’m not sure what I expected; however, him immediately throwing her ass out into the street would have been grand. Because this whole damn scene hurt my heart and it was only going to get worse. I could just feel it, dammit.
“What are you doing here, Liv?” he asked, sweat still dripping off him. A damp tee hung over one shoulder and his shorts sat low on his hips.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to him. His answering smile was weak, making my spirits sink straight through the floor. Liv had most certainly come to get her man. Stupid of me to try to stand in the way. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Not until he came out and asked me to. I took a couple of steps sideways instead, putting some much needed distance between us. Then I crossed my arms and rested my butt against the kitchen counter, propping myself up and giving myself as much protection as possible. Just what the situation required.
“I called,” she said. “You didn’t answer.”
Before responding, he downed half of the water. “I’ve been busy. You shouldn’t have come here. What if you’d been followed? You’re just lucky there aren’t any photographers out front today. The last damn thing I need is a repeat of what happened in front of your place.”