A few minutes later, the sisters shepherded the grumbling men, packed-up burgers with them, out of Ian’s apartment.
Before getting into the elevator with her siblings, Olivia paused by Riley’s side. “He’s hurting,” she said softly.
“I didn’t know they wouldn’t show up.” Riley spoke equally quietly.
Olivia studied her face. “I want to believe you—because I think you’re the only one who can get through to him.”
“What do you mean? You’re all so close.”
The other woman frowned.
“If you’re going, then go,” Ian said before Olivia could reply.
Olivia leaned in closer. “If you hurt my brother, I’m going to have to fire you, and that means we’ll lose a damned good assistant.”
“Is that my new title?” Riley asked, joking out loud when, deep down, she appreciated the other woman’s protective nature. In fact, it reminded her of how she and Alex took care of each other.
Olivia laughed. “Actually your new title might be Assistant Travel Secretary, but we’ll talk on Monday. Good luck here,” she said, sobering, before she turned and walked into the elevator.
Riley waited until the doors shut behind them before turning to face Ian.
Alone.
He didn’t look at her, and his rejection stung.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
She swallowed hard. “To explain why I didn’t come earlier. I knew if I were here, I would only be a point of contention between you and Alex, so I stayed home. I thought if you got a chance to know each other, it would be easier for us to be together.”
“But it didn’t happen, did it?” he asked bitterly.
She’d had it with his attitude. She strode over to him, getting into his personal space. “I didn’t know Alex wouldn’t show,” she said, her voice rising with her frustration.
He gritted his teeth. “I all but begged you to come today.”
“I told you I’d talk to Alex, and I did. He was upset and distrustful. I thought things would go more smoothly if I wasn’t here.”
“You thought wrong.”
She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. Her palm burned on contact. She wanted to get through to him. She needed him to understand.
“Ian, please.”
When he didn’t crack, she glanced away, her gaze falling on the mirror on the nearby wall. She saw herself, hand on his arm, pleading with him to forgive her for something she hadn’t done intentionally. Suddenly the sight transformed, replaced in her mind by her mother on her knees, begging her father to forgive her for some minor transgression that wasn’t worth the anger or emotion invested.
It always ended the same way. He’d backhand her hard, sending her sprawling—into the wall, onto the floor.
Nausea and panic swamped Riley, and she ripped her hand away from his arm. “You know what? Screw you, Ian.” She took another step back, tremors shaking her body. “You obviously don’t want me here, and I sure as hell don’t need to beg you for anything.”
She beat a hasty retreat for the elevator, pressing on the button over and over, willing the car to come faster. “Come on, come on,” she muttered, unwilling to look over her shoulder at the man behind her.
EIGHT
Riley’s outburst popped the bubble of anger that had been surrounding Ian all day. She stood at the elevator, pounding at the button in a panic, and his anger, which should never have been directed at her, dissipated, replaced by concern.
“Riley.”
She ignored him.