Page 131 of Wild Thing
I had heard all of this shit before. I forced a smile, drawing on the acting skills I had learned in high school drama class.
“Thank you.” I said, my voice steady.
I'd died inside though. My soul had left my body.
Greg leaned forward, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing, clearly trying to keep me uncomfortable. “Did you get what you needed from the site visit the other day?”
“Yes, I did.” I replied, not bothering to elaborate.
Ally’s sharp voice interrupted. “Are you two working on the same project?”
"Yeah," Brax answered before I could even open my mouth. “Dylan’s the interior designer on the bridal headquarters.”
I nodded, briefly meeting Ally’s gaze.
She took a slow sip of her champagne, her eyes pinned on mine. “Uh huh. So, where are you from, Dylan?” Ally asked.
“White Point,” I answered, trying to keep my composure.
“Nice town,” she responded, though it didn’t sound particularly sincere.
I figured that if I had to sit in this torture chamber like a fucking fool, then I was going to make damn sure Brax felt some of the weight of it too.
“So, how long have you two been engaged?” I asked.
Brax, clearly uncomfortable, cleared his throat.
“Three months,” she answered, twirling her big fucking diamond around.
Three. Fucking. Months.
It was another kick in the teeth. The bile rose in my throat. I had to swallow hard to keep it down.
“Congratulations,” I forced out. I almost choked on the word. “When’s the big day?”
Brax shot me an unsettled look. Was he feeling guilt, maybe? Shame?
Either way, I didn't really care. My shock was fast fusing into something much darker.
It was becoming white hot female rage.
At Brax. At Greg. At myself for being such a fucking idiot.
"With all of these work projects, I can't get this guy to commit to a date. Can I, B?" Ally placed her hand possessively on Brax’s upper arm.
I nearly rolled my eyes at the ridiculous nickname she had for him.
B.What the fuck kind of pet name was that?
I was in disbelief.
Where was the shitty, unhappy relationship Brax painted to me? They seemed like a perfectly normal couple. Ally was practically draped over him.
Was any of it true? Had I been played all along? Why did he lie to me?
Ally reached over the table and grabbed a piece of bread, buttering it. "How are you enjoying working with the Omega team?"
“Good, thanks.”
