What? I’m weird about money?
“What does that mean, I’m weird about money?”
“You have this thing about money. About people with money. About talking about money. I didn’t want to tell you I had all this debt because I didn’t want you to think I was asking you to help me pay it off. I can take care of the bills myself. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because I was the idiot who was duped, by a man who claimed to love me, into putting my name on everything, and, when he did a runner with a blonde bimbo, I was left with all the bills to repay.”
Her ex left her with debts to pay? That asshole.
“And you thought I would be upset with you? That’s why you didn’t tell me? Because you thought I’d think you wanted me to pay them?”
Would I have thought that way? He wanted to instantly deny it, but he wasn’t sure he could.
“When we first met, I figured it wasn’t something I needed to share. Things were new, and you didn’t talk about your finances. Then as time went on, it became harder to bring it up. And you’ve made a few comments about money that made me worry you would think I was some sort of gold digger.”
“I’d have to have gold for you to be after it,” he told her. Although in comparison to where she lived, his place was a damn palace. And while he wasn’t rich like Alex, he was comfortable.
“Then as the weeks went by, I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to look at me differently. I was such an idiot, believing everything Eddie had told me. I trusted him. And now I’m in this mess. My fault. My problem to solve, not yours. I didn’t want you to see me as weak or as a pushover. It was embarrassing. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get anywhere with this debt hanging over me, so I finally decided to take a second job.”
She looked up at him from wide, blue-green eyes. Eyes that pleaded with him to understand. And he got it. Pride was a powerful thing. She felt ashamed even though none of the fault was hers. But it still didn’t excuse lying. If she could lie about this . . .
“I better go.” He needed to leave. He needed time to think about all of this.
“What? No, you can’t just walk out. Sloan—” She reached out to grab his arm, and he stiffened.
She dropped her hand with a sob. He grimaced but didn’t turn to look at her. He knew his resolve might crumble if he did, and he’d probably forgive her anything. But he’d been lied to before and he’d gotten burned. Badly.
Lying wasn’t something he thought he could forgive. Ever.
Except this is Kinley. She means too much to you to just let her go.
And it wasn’t a huge deal, having a second job. Sure, it was something he should have known about, and he was concerned about her. She was so pale and tired. Also, how big were those debts?
What else had she lied about? Would she lie again?
He rubbed his forehead, confused.
“Is that it then?” she asked. “It’s over just like that?”
“I don’t know,” he said without turning. “I need time to think. Don’t try to contact me. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.”
He opened the door and stepped through, then paused. “Lock the deadbolt behind me.”
He shut the door then waited until he heard the bolt slide into place. He thought he heard a low sob, but he could have been mistaken. He forced himself to walk away. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
“You missed a spot.”
She jumped with a squeal, turning, her rag held out in as she gaped at the man who’d snuck up behind her.
“Easy,” he said in a low voice. “Put the rag down and step away.”
She looked down at the cloth in her hand, dumbfounded. What?
“It was a joke,” her boss told her without cracking a smile. “Not a very good one, I admit. I’m out of practice.”
Meaning he used to be good at joking? She couldn’t really see it. He was so serious—so angry.
“Sorry for scaring you,” he said, breaking the silence and making her realize she’d just been standing there, staring at him.
“Again.” She held her hand up to her chest, realized she still held the rag and put it on the countertop next to her. She’d been in the middle of wiping down the bathroom when he’d frightened five years off her life.