Happily Enemy After (Hawthorne Brothers 2)

What on earth am I doing?

“Excuse me,” I speak up. “I have to go to the restroom.”

I leave without waiting for either man to reply. Inside a cubicle, I lean against a wall and take deep breaths. I place my hand on my forehead as I think.

What am I doing here? Why am I with Asher when he tossed me aside like trash in the past? Why am I making the same mistake I made before, the one I swore I’d never make again?

I shake my head. No. I won’t make the same mistake. Before things go any further, I’m going to talk to Asher. I’m going to find out for sure what his intentions are. I’m going to tell him that if he hurts me again, I’m not just going to knee him in the balls. I’m going to chop his dick off.

I get out of the restroom and head back to the dance floor. To my dismay, I don’t see Asher. I only see Lloyd.

I approach him. “Have you seen Asher?”

He gives me a puzzled look. “Um, no. I thought he went after you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

As I head back to the restrooms, I can feel Lloyd’s gaze following me. I know what he’s thinking. That this is déjà vu. It kind of feels like it.

I check the area around the restrooms, figuring that maybe Asher did come after me but didn’t see me come out. I don’t see him. I start to look everywhere.

Yup. This is feeling like déjà vu.

Where are you, Asher?

Like before, I start to feel afraid as the time passes, thinking something bad might have happened to him. And I hate it. I hate that I still care so much. I hate thinking that if something bad happened to him, I’d be devastated. And I don’t even have a right to be since we’re not a couple.

Fuck.

Finally, I find him. In an empty corridor. With a woman in a blue gown.

I don’t even have a chance to feel relief at finding him. My heart just shatters. I can’t breathe.

I can’t believe I’m going through this nightmare all over again.

As tears sting the back of my eyes, I pick up my skirt and run in the opposite direction.

“Violet!”Chapter NineteenAsher

I call after Violet but she doesn’t stop running. I run after her down the other corridor, past the rope barrier and the sign that says the area is closed.

“Violet!”

She goes into a room and closes the door. Not just closes. Locks. I draw a deep breath.

“Violet, open the door,” I tell her calmly.

“Go away,” she says from the other side.

“I won’t. And if you don’t open this door, I’m going to do one of two things. One, I’m going to start banging my fists on this door, which will surely get the attention of the other guests and the reporters at the party, not to mention security. Or two, I’m just going to break this door down, which I suppose will cause an even bigger ruckus and possibly land me in jail.”

Violet still doesn’t open the door.

“Violet.”

Finally, she does but just a crack.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

The distraught look on her face and the agony in her voice makes me frown. I definitely can’t leave her alone now.

I step inside the room, which I realize is full of ancient tapestries, and close the door behind me.

“I’m not going anywhere, Violet,” I tell her. “I came to this party with you and I’m not leaving without you.”

“Why not? Because it might look bad? Who cares? You didn’t care about that before. You didn’t care that I was scared and I looked like a fool, which by the way, is what happened again.” She slaps her forehead. “God, I can’t believe I let this happen again.”

“It’s not happening again. I didn’t leave you. I was just talking to someone—Patricia Heather. She works at the New York Stock Exchange and she knows my father.”

Violet glares at me. “Do you think I care who she is?”

I frown. “I was just talking to her, alright? I’ve never slept with her and I wasn’t planning to.”

“Yeah, right.”

She turns her back on me. I exhale.

“What? Are you going to bite my head off every time I talk to another woman? Am I not allowed to do that now?”

Violet turns around and points a finger at me. “Don’t you dare make me sound like I’m a crazy, jealous, insecure girlfriend, because I’m not! You know why? Because I’m not even your girlfriend! I’m just your friend, remember? And your ‘colleague’. Isn’t that what you told Lloyd Finley?”

“Oh, is that what this is about now? Me not telling Lloyd Finley that we’re not having sex? Well, excuse me, but I don’t broadcast my sex life.”

“That is not what I wanted you to say.”

“Then what did you want me to say?” I ask her.