Monica Murphy - Savor

“You really think he’s behind this?” I ask incredulously. My grandma may drive me crazy and has heaped on plenty of helpings of tough love, but she would never blatantly sabotage me or spread such lies.

He grabs his phone, punches a button and holds it to his ear, his expression grim, eyes blazing with anger. He must be listening to his voicemail or something. I wait nervously, wrapping my arms around my middle, my mind racing.

What if the photographer took more pictures? What if they release more to the media over the next few days? God, what will that do to us?

“He left me a message asking if I’d seen the article, sounding like a smug asshole,” Matt says, knocking me from my thoughts. “And hell yes, I do, especially after what you just told me. If he said those kind of things to you, then he could definitely be behind this. I mean, no one else would mention my dad and he just happens to appear in this stupid article. He’s our unidentified source.” He exhales loudly and pushes his fingers through his hair. “Wonder how much the asshole got paid for spreading these lies. I wonder who he got to follow us.”

“Right. And who knows if any more pictures will show up? I will die if that happens, I swear. I can’t live like this,” I say, my voice soft yet steely while inside my nerves are in absolute chaos. “I can’t do it, Matt.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and I close my eyes, afraid to look at him, scared to see the sadness in his gaze.

“Having to deal with this sort of thing will wreck my self-esteem, and it’s already pretty wrecked.” I crack open my eyes to find him staring at me, shock written all over his handsome face. “I’ll never be able to escape the shadow of being the home wrecker, the easy girl. The dumb slut who sleeps with her boss because she thinks that’s what she’s supposed to do.”

“But that’s not what we have, Bryn. Can’t you see it? This has nothing to do with me being your boss and you being my assistant. What we have, what we shared last night, is about us being a man and a woman who are attracted to each other.” He pauses, staring at me. “Right?”

I can only look at him, not sure what to say, how to defend my feelings. They are what they are, and I have no explanation for them. They’re just there. And they’re not about to go away anytime soon. It’s not that easy.

But I don’t tell him any of that. He wouldn’t understand. He’s wealthy and established and confident in going after what he wants, be it a new career, a new woman—a new whatever.

Me, on the other hand, I lack confidence. I’m young and broke and striving to make myself better, but every time I think I’ve pushed myself into a better place, I fuck it up somehow and end up taking about forty steps backward.

Until I’m right back where I started.

“I don’t know,” I admit softly. “I’m not sure if this can work out.”

“Bryn.” His voice breaks on my name and the sound breaks my heart. “Don’t do this. Don’t say that.”

“I was going to give my notice when we returned home,” I blurt out, wanting him to know the truth. “I was going to give you two weeks. Then I was going to pack up all my stuff in boxes, shove it into the back of my Saturn, and drive home to Cactus. My grandma said I can stay with her until I get back on my feet and find a job.”

Now he looks good and pissed. “You were going to give your notice so you can go back to Cactus? Have you lost your mind?”

I shrug, angry that he would be so insulting. “I have nothing else holding me here.” It’s a lie. He could hold me here, but I know it wouldn’t work out. And it wouldn’t be what’s best for me. I’d just end up making another mistake and making us both look bad.

He’s better off without me. And I don’t know if this is true, but I’m probably better off without him too.

“You have nothing else.” His voice is monotone, the look in his eyes, blank. “So what happened last night doesn’t matter.”

“Not when it’ll end up hurting us, which it will undoubtedly do.” I approach him but he takes a step back, like he doesn’t want to be near me. “I’m not sure if we’re good for each other,” I admit.

He stares at me, his mouth set in a grim line. “So you still want to give your notice?”

Slowly, I nod, ignoring the wave of panic that threatens to consume me at my silent confirmation.

“Then I accept your notice. You don’t even need to give me two weeks. We’re done.” His voice, his expression, is final, and I swear I want to burst into great, heaving sobs.

But I don’t. I remain quiet, composed. How, I’m not sure.

“I think you should try and call and change your flight so you can head home tonight,” he suggests, his voice clipped. “I’ll reimburse you for the change fee which I’m sure will be huge.”

“Fine. I’ll leave tonight.” I lift my chin, refusing to let him see me down. This was what I wanted after all.

Wasn’t it?

Matt

Two weeks later

“YOU ANSWERED.” I rub my jaw, the rasp of stubble prickling across my palm. I haven’t shaved in days, and I’ve slept like shit.

“You keep calling my damn phone so yeah, I answered,” Dad says, sounding downright hostile. “Whatcha want, son?”

I want Bryn. I miss her. I hate what happened between us, how easily our tentative relationship was destroyed. Just by a slightly scandalous photo and a few choice words on a bunch of crappy gossip websites.

Hell, it was a very scandalous photo, leaving Bryn feeling beyond embarrassed. Vulnerable. I’m used to those gossipy sites saying a bunch of lies and spreading rumors. Bryn isn’t.

I’d been angry when I left New York. Now I’m just . . . miserable. She left. I’m not exactly sure to where, but I know she couldn’t handle being near me another minute longer. Not that I handled our last conversation in New York particularly well. The moment we discovered the article and photo, it all went to hell.

The most amazing night of my life with the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, ruined. Just like that.

“I want to know why,” I finally say, then pause. Waiting for the answer I’m sure will never really come.

“Why what?” Oh, doesn’t he sound innocent.

“You know.” I take a deep breath, trying to keep my anger under control. “Why did you blab to the media? How much did they pay you? Was it worth it? Having those photos of my innocent assistant spread across the Internet?”

“She didn’t look so innocent in that picture.” Dad has the nerve to chuckle, the bastard.

I close my eyes, count to five. He’s pushing every one of my buttons, and I’m sure the jackass knows it. “I’m used to this sort of treatment. You can drag my name through the mud. I don’t care. But you don’t bring Bryn into this. She didn’t deserve that sort of public humiliation and you know it.”

“She humiliated me at your fancy winery party,” he says, his voice full of venom. “Believe what you want but you’ll see what I did was right for you in the long run. You don’t need that silly little tramp dragging you down.”

His casual confession makes me sick to my stomach. I knew he’d done it. Finally hearing him say it reaffirms I’m about to do the right thing. “Bryn James is the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me and you ruined it. Ruined it with your blabbing to the media. I hope they paid you enough to make this all worth it.”

“Son, it was completely worth it because it got your name in the public eye again. I bet you’ve seen an uptick in business with the winery, am I right? You don’t want people forgetting you. You’re still important you know. A hero to many. Just like I am too,” Dad says smugly.

“You’re nobody’s hero, you fucking asshole. I never want to see or talk to you again.” I’m seething. I literally see red, and I pull the phone away from my ear, ready to end the call when I hear his voice.

“Don’t cut me off too quick, Matt. I’m the last thing you’ve got in this world. And you know it.”

Not true. I have my friends. Archer and Gage. Ivy and Marina. And if I’m lucky enough, I’ll have Bryn back in my life.

“I don’t need you,” I murmur into the phone, then end the call.

I don’t need Vinnie DeLuca at all.

I definitely need my friends though. And more than anything, I need Bryn.

But first, I need to find her.

“IF I THOUGHT you were bad before, you’ve turned into a complete sullen little girl lately,” Archer says with a shake of his head as I stop at the table he’s sharing with Gage. “I don’t know if this forty-five-days idea was such a good one after all.”

“It wasn’t. Fuck the forty-five days.” The last thing I’m thinking of is the stupid bet. I settle heavily into a chair, barely looking at the scantily dressed waitress that appears at our table. “Double vodka, straight up. Make it Grey Goose,” I mutter.

“Anything else for you guys?” The waitress’s voice is bright and cheery. I chance a glance at her, taking in her short skirt, the belly-revealing top that clings to her enormous breasts. I don’t bother looking at her face. From the way she’s dressed, clearly that’s not her intent anyway.

We’re at a local sports bar known for its spectacularly gorgeous waitstaff, Archer demanding via text I meet him and Gage there for drinks after work. So here I am, miserable and ready to drown my sorrows in booze.

They’re probably somehow trying to tempt me by having us come here. With the bet extension still on, I’m sure they’re looking for any way to get me to break it. The waitress is mega hot.

I could give two shits about her. All I want is Bryn.