“They also referred to you as an Olympic athlete,” Aisling pointed out sheepishly, munching on her lower lip.
It was probably weird for her to be here, being the sister of the offender, but she kept a straight face and didn’t try to defend him.
“So, are you going to tell us Hunter’s charges?” Emmabelle poked my ribs. “Are we talking breaking the contract and screwing you over with his dad, which is infuriating, albeit redeemable, or is it…more?”
I was washed with sympathetic gazes. Although my friends had practically witnessed my fooling around with Hunter, I’d never confirmed my relationship with him, and they’d never pushed.
Feeling my throat working, I began to pick invisible lint from the blanket on top of my crossed legs. I felt guilty for not confiding in them sooner. I never kept anything from my friends.
“Are you asking if we were together?” I cleared my throat.
The tub of ice cream was transferred into Persy’s hand when Belle realized I wasn’t going to eat any.
“We’re asking if you’re in love,” Persy said gently, squeezing my thigh.
“And byproduct, if we need to go there and kick his ass.” Emmabelle flexed her nonexistent bicep. “Don’t worry, Aisling. You’re excused from the task.”
“Oh, I’ll be the one aiming straight for his genitals to show where my loyalty lies.” Aisling’s eyes flared.
We all burst out in laughter. Even me.
Aisling shook her head and patted my leg. “I will never forget the day you brought me into your circle.”
“I know, but blood is thicker than water,” I croaked.
“That may be, but loyalty is thicker than blood,” Aisling replied. “We’re a team now. A pack. The Boston Belles.”
The room fell silent. The new nickname rolled nicely off her tongue. It rang true and sweet. I smiled again, mainly to make my friends feel like they were getting somewhere with their attempts to console me.
“So?” Emmabelle turned the conversation back to me. “Are you in love with the well-endowed sex-tape prince?”
It was so like her to find his sex tape and watch it on repeat.
“Yeah,” I answered quietly, surprising even myself. “God, I am. Crap.”
“Crap,” they echoed in unison.
“Indeed,” Belle added helpfully.
She covered me with her body, draping over me like a second blanket. Persy hugged me from one side, the ice cream tub still in her hand, freezing the back of my head, and Aisling climbed the bed and hugged me from the other side. My friends engulfed me from all directions.
I felt loved. So loved, I couldn’t help but wonder how the man I hated so much right now was doing.
Hunter didn’t have friends here.
No support group.
Good, I thought. Let him rot in hell and feel the weight of the consequences of his actions.
The morning after, I paid a visit to Gerald Fitzpatrick at his home office. It was buttcrack o’clock, but I wanted to get it out of the way before I started training. Also, coming into his office and risking facing Hunter was my idea of hell.
Dad had picked up my car and belongings from Hunter’s apartment the night before. I didn’t ask him if he saw my ex-roommate, but he mentioned Hunter had tried calling me several times. Several was ninety-six, to be exact, including some text messages trying to coax me to listen to him. At some point Hunter had texted that he was outside my parents’ building. He’d waited there for four hours by the time stamp of his text messages.
I blocked his number after that.
“I suppose you’re here to apologize for your colossal failure,” Mr. Fitzpatrick sneered behind his dark oak desk. His office consisted of a wall-to-ceiling, back-to-back library full to the brim with books, a desk, three chairs, and a minibar. Expensive paintings by Picasso and Modigliani hung on the very little space that wasn’t occupied with books. The tax on those things alone could buy six houses here in the city.
“Not exactly,” I said, keeping my back straight, my demeanor calm. I was still standing, as I hadn’t been invited to sit down. Just as well. I wanted to make it short and not so sweet.
“Are you denying that my son slept with the Alder girl?” Gerald raised a thick, bushy eyebrow, his index finger covering the length of his twisted mouth.
“I didn’t catch them having sex.” I popped one shoulder up.
“So you’re defending him yet again?” His eyes widened.
I shook my head, meeting his eyes. “No. But I can’t condemn him for what I don’t know for a fact. But I do know I slept with him. I don’t want this on my conscience. This is why I’m here today, to tell you I betrayed your confidence, broke the terms of our deal, and won’t be going through with the last month of our agreement. Please send me the invoice for the money you’ve invested in my career so I can repay you.”