But, no, that didn’t magically erase the pain.
She blew out a slow breath and focused on the single line of text below each image.
Miriam Birovski, CFO, Birovski Vodka.
Daphne Johnson, corporate attorney, Oracle.
Tiffany Shapiro, model.
Bridgette Ferreira, model, broadcaster.
Faith continued scrolling, scanning over a dozen photographs, names, and titles while the uncomfortable tightness beneath her ribs became a stabbing pain.
At the bottom, Natalie’s parting message hammered every one of Faith’s insecurities home: You’ll never belong.
She forced her eyes closed and turned off her screen. None of that mattered, because this wasn’t permanent. This wasn’t real. This was a fling.
“There you are.” Grant’s voice startled her, and she pivoted toward him. He was smiling, but not in that light, happy way she’d come to love. “I thought you were going to call me to help you set up the tables.”
He wore his parka and jeans. His knit hat was covered with snow.
“You were already spending all that extra time looking at my books and working on a marketing plan with Taylor,” she said, starting in his direction.
When he was beneath the arena’s cover, he pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair while he looked around at Faith’s setup. “Man, this looks fantastic.”
She smiled and went to him. He was still hers for a few more days. So she slid her hands underneath his jacket and over the soft cotton of his tee and all the warm muscle beneath. And she hugged him tight. “You’re fantastic.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for finishing the video for me. And getting it up online. And…just…being so all-around amazing.”
“Hold off on that assessment.” He wrapped her in his arms, framed her face with one hand, and kissed her. And even the kiss was different. A steady press of his lips that lingered, as if he didn’t want to let go. It tugged at her already aching heartstrings.
When he pulled back and looked into her eyes, she knew this wasn’t going to be something she wanted to hear. She laid her hand against his chest. “What’s wrong?”
He wrapped one big, warm hand around hers. “I just got a call from my agent.”
Faith tensed against another blow.
“God, I’m so sorry to do this to you, Faith.” He exhaled heavily. “He booked me for an event tomorrow, and I can’t get out of it. These appearances are in my contract, and I can’t bum it off on anyone else, because the guys who can go are already going. The others are married with kids and spending the night with their families.”
She nodded, but she stood on the edge of a cliff with a very long fall waiting. “Where’s the event?”
“DC.”
Exactly what she feared, but she tried like hell to hold it together. “So you won’t be here for”—Christmas—“the contest?”
He looked down at their joined hands and shook his head. “I’m sorry, baby. I have to leave tonight.”
Tonight?
That news hit her hard. Really hard.
She wasn’t ready.
“Oh, wow.” Tears pushed at her eyes out of nowhere, and she let her gaze fall to his chest. “O-okay. Sure. I understand. You have to go where they want you, right?” She managed a soft bubble of laughter. “I’m lucky we met at all. If you hadn’t hurt yourself and been benched, you would never have come home for Christmas and…”
And I wouldn’t be standing here with my hopes falling ten stories.
Wild flutters of panic attacked, and Faith had the crazy urge to grab hold of him. She forced herself to look at this rationally. Logically. Tried to put it in perspective. They’d known each other only a couple of weeks. Their lives couldn’t be more different.
This was good. A quick, clean end. Better than dragging it out, getting more attached. Right?