“Get out!” Christine screamed.
"I’m glad I don't have to deal with your wedding shit anymore, Christine," Jamie said quietly. "You and Stephen really deserve each other. You have no idea." She stomped to the door and slammed it to Christine yelling more profanities at her.
Chapter 6
Jamie waited until she got into her car before she allowed the tears to fall. She hadn’t meant to yell at her sister like that. Everything had just boiled up and up and finally over. It was like Christine’s mission in life was to make her big sister feel like she was nothing. She had been trying to lose weight and it was working. She had a whole new wardrobe to prove it! She was in no way jealous of Christine marrying Stephen. Or maybe she was. Not of Stephen, but the fact her younger sister was getting married before her. “The marriage won’t last, anyways,” she told herself, and then felt like crap for trying to condemn it before they’d even said ‘I do’.
As much as Christine's comments hurt, though, she had to admit the sense of relief lifting off her chest couldn’t be missed. She was tired of being spread thin by Christine's crises and work and the passive aggressive comments about her weight. She didn't even want to think about the wrath she'd have to face from her mother, but suddenly Jamie finally felt like she could breathe for the first time since Christine and Stephen announced their engagement.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and started the car. She suddenly had the day free and if she sat crying in her car, she was bound to run into her mom or Stephen. She didn’t want to deal with any of them right now.
On the way home she heard her phone ring and she checked the caller ID. It was her mother already.
She quickly pressed ignore. No doubt Christine had already told her everything by now and Jamie was not going to listen to her mother rant about how Jamie was such a disappointment, or how she should have just gotten an abortion that first time around but Jamie’s father had convinced her mom to keep the baby. She was not a mistake and no one was going to tell her otherwise today.
She threw her phone into the back seat of the car and did a quick U-turn away from home. The waterworks falling from her eyes wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t go home. Alex would be there, and she didn't want to run into him when she was so upset. He’d judge her like her own damn family did.
Opening the car window, she let the wind dry her tears. She had planned on helping Christine all day, and had no work to do for Alex at the moment. She had free time and damn if she was going to use it crying over anyone—least of all, herself.
She went to a tiny hole-in-the-wall cafe that had picturesque decorations and displays of beautiful baked goods. She ordered a vegetable omelet and a coffee before sitting down at a light brown table in the back of the restaurant. She was the only patron in there, which was fine by her. She wanted some peace and quiet while she mulled things over.
First thing she warned her brain was that it wasn’t allowed to think about Christine, feel bad, and then call and apologize. She had to grow a backbone sometime. She wouldn’t beg for her maid of honor spot and, Jamie smiled to herself, she now wouldn’t have to use Christine as her maid of honor when she got married.
She thought about Stephen and how he had acted so strange. He did seem pissed when he realized that she was there, but Stephen didn't have a conscience. Even if he did remember his drunken attack, he wouldn't care. Hell, he would probably say that Jamie was to blame and that she went after him. So, why so mad? Was he worried she would tell Christine?
No, he wouldn't be because when had Christine ever taken her side over his?
Jamie had a feeling Alex had said or done something. She shook her head. She was just being paranoid. Alex was the overprotective type but there was no way he would actually go so far as to threaten Stephen, or whatever, into leaving her alone.
Jamie smiled as she thought about her sexy, rich boss. It was kind of cool to think he was looking out for her. The look on his face the other night popped into her memory and how his touch had heated a fire in her that still begged to be released. She’d never been the horny type, well, she grinned wryly, not really.
Stop!
Alex was a great boss but he had made it pretty clear he only cared about her professionally. She shook her head. She told him she wasn’t interested. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like anything could happen between them anyway. It wouldn’t work. She was not hot-guy material. Christine had made that blatantly obvious.
She took her time finishing her omelet and forced herself to enjoy the peace and quiet in the little café. She didn’t need her phone, or laptop or anything for those thirty minutes. By the time she finished, she had already begun to feel better. Not much, but a little.
She drove around for an hour and then with nowhere else to go, she figured she would head home and lie in bed with a book to curl up with, and maybe a workout as well.
When she pulled into the driveway, hundreds of cars were blocking it. She’d forgotten Alex had said he was hosting a brunch with business partners. She hadn’t realized it was at his place. She groaned inwardly. All she wanted to do was hide for the time being, but it looked like that was a lot easier said than done. Hopefully no one would notice her sneak into her suite.
She waved away the valet who tried to open the door for her. “It’s just me,” she told him before realizing that the valets Alex hired from the valet company had no idea who she was. “I’m Mr. Reid’s personal assistant. I live here. I’m just going to sneak by and go to my apartment.”
“Could I see some ID, please?” the valet said, a clipboard coming out from the little stand where he stood.
She handed him her wallet and he looked at her name, frowning. “I’m sorry, Ms. Connors, but I can’t let anyone through who’s not on the guest list.”
Of course Alex wouldn’t have thought to inform the valets about her. Plus, she was supposed to be gone for the entire day. “Look, if you just ask Mr. Reid, he’ll tell you and let me through.” She looked behind the seat but couldn’t see her phone. She reached for the door handle but the valent stood close, preventing her from opening the door.
“My apologies, ma’am, but I’m under strict orders not to let anyone in that is not on the list. If you could just turn your car around—”
“Listen, kid, this is my home. Ask Murray, the cook.”
“Who?”
She threw her hands in the air. “Ask, I don’t know, the gardener! Whoever you want. Just let me through the gates and step away from my damn door!”
“Jamie?” came an all-too familiar voice.