“So you do have women in your life?”
Not in the way she wanted. “Yes.”
“But you liked this woman enough to make it public?”
“No.”
“You never bring a date, so why did you bring one this time—”
“Enough.” I held up my hand and silenced her, not feeling an ounce of guilt for shutting her down. She invaded my privacy when it was none of her business. She seemed more concerned with who I was fucking instead of worrying about Coen’s soon-to-be ex-wife. “If I’m ever ready to talk about someone, I’ll talk about it. But right now, there’s nothing to tell.”
Max placed the picture in front of me. “Her name is Trina. She’s twenty-one.”
I glanced at her picture, liked everything I saw, and then handed the picture back to him. “Yes.”
“Alright.” He returned the photo to his folder. “I’ll make sure she’s ready for Friday evening. Anything else?”
“No.”
Max left my office.
I watched him go, feeling the weight of the guilt on my chest. A part of me knew I didn’t want Trina at all, that I was just forcing myself into bed so I would forget about Monroe. If I called Monroe and told her I made a mistake, she would probably forgive me, but that wasn’t what I wanted.
I had to move on.
Spending the month with Monroe had fucked with my head. It made me wonder if monogamy would be as bad as it was last time. It made me wonder if Monroe was someone I could actually trust. She was nothing like Simone, so that was the last thing I had to worry about.
But I didn’t want to go down that road again.
To look like a fool in front of the whole world.
I was still paying the price for my mistake with Simone. She was marrying my brother, while everyone looked on and thought it was the strangest family situation of all time. I looked like the idiot anyone could just walk all over, and my brother looked like the bigger idiot.
Simone tainted the Remington name.
Maybe if Simone had disappeared, I would have been able to forget about it. But since she was constantly around the corner, I could never get enough space to put this in the past. Her betrayal haunted me. My brother’s betrayal haunted me even more.
After I hit the gym and showered, I sat on the couch and turned on the TV. The maid had the TV on while she cleaned, so the gossip channel was always the first thing to pop up when I hit the power button.
There was a story about Wyatt Newport, the CEO of the iconic fashion company, Silk. And of course, the media scrutinized his love life like private detectives. There was a short video of him having dinner with a woman in a nice restaurant.
But upon closer examination, I recognized the woman.
Monroe.
I turned up the volume. “Wyatt Newport is reported to be dating someone new after his very public breakup with model Sophia Lerange. He was spotted having an intimate dinner with a new interest at the French bistro on Lexington and 22nd street. They seemed to be having a good time. When our team asked for confirmation on this new romance, Wyatt Newport failed to reply.”
I paused the screen so I could get a better look at the woman across from him. With that brown hair, beautiful neck, and the little freckles I loved to look at when she was underneath me, it was definitely her.
Monroe was dating someone else.
She didn’t sit around and wait for me. She didn’t cry every night while watching TV. She’d put her heart on the line, and when I stomped on it, she moved on. Now she was dating a man just as wealthy as I was—and handsome.
I was furious.
Fucking furious.
I gripped the remote so hard I popped the back compartment that contained the batteries. My teeth ground together with alarming pressure. If I pressed any harder, I might grind my teeth down to the root. It was the same rage I felt when I caught Simone with Coen—like I’d been betrayed.
Rage. Jealousy. Pain.
I felt it all.
I’d just picked out a new woman to fuck, but this still pissed me off.
She was seeing someone else, a man who had the looks and wealth to rival me.
I had no right to be angry, not after what I did to her. I shouldn’t feel jealousy either, not when I said I wanted nothing to do with her. All these feelings were inappropriate. I should just change the channel and forget I saw it in the first place.
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t stop staring.
Now I googled Wyatt constantly, seeing if he’d spent any more time with Monroe. He owned a fashion company, so perhaps they were conducting a job interview in that restaurant. It would be unusual for the CEO to concern himself with such insignificant matters, especially over dinner. So that didn’t seem likely.