“Bullshit,” Ash said as he stood from the couch.
He turned on his television and blasted the entire interview throughout his apartment.
“She left you at the altar? Why?”
“Because she set her sights on a bigger fish,” James said. “And while I don’t want to drag her name through the mud, I do want to highlight that this is an issue that plagues the upper one percent. I know that’s an unpopular opinion to have, but with all of the progressive feminist movements happening in our age today, it’s important to know that women like her set those movements back. Kallie Semple is just one of a massive horde of women who hunt men down for their money. Women like Kallie set women’s rights and movements back decades.”
“Some people would say you’re doing this out of spite,” the woman said. “But you say you’re doing it out of some sort of respect for the feminist movement?”
“I try to support in my own way. I donate to their causes. I volunteer my time at women’s shelters. And every time a friend of mine comes to me and talks about how he got swindled by a woman who wanted nothing more than his money, it makes me burn. All of these women out there are trying to find equality in a world dominated by people like me, but the war has to be fought on both fronts. Men who take advantage of women need to be exposed, of course. But women who take advantage of men need to be exposed as well.”
“It’s an interesting theory, Mr. Rathbone. And a theory you speak of thoroughly in this article.”
The woman held up the fucking New York Times and Ash roared out into his apartment.
“In the article, you talk about how things ended with you and Miss Semple,” the woman said. “Do you care to elaborate for us?”
“Kallie and I planned our honeymoon together. Two weeks in St. Barts. Ash Worthington has a bungalow there at the resort we were staying at, and her plans changed.”
“Are you saying she planned to go to St. Barts for the explicit purpose of getting close to Mr. Worthington?”
“I’m honestly not sure. I don’t want to believe that about her, but it’s hard not to. At first, she didn’t really care about the honeymoon. Then all of a sudden, she was insistent on St. Barts. She grew distant. We didn’t see each other much. I figured it was pre-wedding jitters, and then she didn’t show up for the wedding. Left me high and dry. I didn’t even know what had happened to her until a charge came through on my credit card.”
“A charge?” the woman asked.
“Drinks,” James said with a chuckle. “My card was linked to our private bungalow for room service and drink service. That’s how I knew she took the trip to St. Barts anyway. After standing me up. She went to the island, conveniently found one of the wealthiest men on the East Coast, and she did it all on my dime. I mean, who does that? What woman doesn’t show up to her own wedding and then goes on the honeymoon trip alone? We all know they’re back in town together. Pictures of them in Central Park have been taken. You mean to tell me she’s back in town with a new billionaire boyfriend, and somehow these dots aren’t all connected somehow?”
“You sound like a bitter ex,” the woman said.
“I’m bitter because I loved her,” James said. “With every fiber of my being. I sold my apartment. Moved into a massive house I was readying for her to move into. She didn’t want to move until after we were married. She was hell-bent on staying independent until the last possible second. And now that I think of it, maybe I was blind. Maybe ... maybe she didn’t have any plans of marrying me at all.”
Ash couldn't tear his eyes away from the man on the screen. He watched James’s stare glisten over before he cleared his throat. Oh, the man was good. And even though he sounded very convincing, he had to trust Kallie. He trusted Kallie. He had to keep telling himself that. His Pretty Kallie wasn’t the type to do the kinds of things this man was talking about. According to her, James was the one who called off the wedding. Who was caught cheating with one of her bridesmaids. And her friend at the club backed that story up.