Page 39 of Tangled in Temptation

I had no idea when he had gotten up. I had slept right through it. But it was time to face him. The awkward morning after. I slid out of bed, going in search of my clothes that were scattered around his massive apartment.

“Timothy?” I called out.

No one answered. He had left me alone in his apartment. Brave man. But then again, why wouldn’t he trust me? I’d been in his house for months. Once dressed, I found my way to one of the bathrooms and was happy to see he had toothpaste and new toothbrushes in a drawer. I didn’t want to think about other overnight guests that might have needed the toiletries. I quickly brushed my teeth, washed my face, and finger combed through the mass of curls that was my hair.

My phone was in my purse, almost dead but with enough charge to call him.

“Hi.” I heard the smile in his voice when he picked up. “You’re up, Sleeping Beauty.”

I blushed a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you get up.”

“Good. I tried to be as quiet as possible.”

“So, uh, you’re not here.” I stated the obvious. “Should I take a cab back to the hotel?”

“No, no. I had to run into the office, but I’m on my way back now. I should be there within thirty minutes or so. I can bring breakfast. Go ahead and make yourself coffee or espresso, whatever you’d like.”

I looked around his kitchen with various appliances I had never seen before littering the sleek countertops. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

I stared at the espresso machine, craving a blast of caffeine but having no idea how to use it. “Shit,” I muttered, giving up. I didn’t dare screw with it and end up breaking the damn thing. The coffee machine was something I could work—if I could find the pods. I felt a little guilty for snooping through his kitchen, but I was desperate for caffeine. I still had a lingering headache.

“Aha,” I celebrated when I found a drawer filled with neat little rows of pods in every flavor. As I was scanning the options, I heard footsteps in the entrance hall. Assuming it was Timothy returning from the office, I turned around, only to find myself face to face with Regina. The smug expression on her face sent an immediate surge of irritation through me.

“Betty the Builder trying to play with fancy gadgets?” Regina taunted, her condescension palpable. The nickname hit a nerve, igniting a flame of anger within me. I bit my lip, forcing myself to remain composed. Looking at her in her designer outfit with her hair and makeup done perfectly, I felt small. I knew I looked like hell.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice steady despite the tension in the room.

Regina’s gaze swept over me with disdain. I could feel her sizing me up, judging me, and what she saw didn’t impress her. “Timothy invited me to stay. This is my apartment, just as Gloriana is my mansion.”

I was taken aback. “Your apartment, your mansion?” I echoed, fighting to swallow down the lump forming in my throat. The realization hit like a punch in the gut. I had been so naive, believing Timothy’s empty promises.

“Exactly.” Regina smirked, her sharp gaze unblinking. “Timothy and I, we have, shall we say... a unique arrangement.”

I looked around the place with fresh eyes. The polished furniture, ostentatious art pieces, even the damn espresso machine—it all screamed Regina. How could I have been so blind? The painful truth reverberated through me: I was nothing more than a side piece.

But I remembered Timothy telling me how vile Regina could be. “You and I both know that isn’t true,” I bluffed.

She threw her head back and laughed. “Sweetie, please. I understand you think he loves you, and I’m sure you love him, but it’s never going to happen. Save yourself the embarrassment and leave. I’m sure you have some dignity left under those chewed fingernails and overalls.”

I wasn’t wearing overalls, but I didn’t miss her point. “If you’re looking for Timothy, he isn’t here.”

“I live here,” she corrected.

“No, you don’t,” I retorted.

“Let me guess: He told you I didn’t live here. You fell for one of his smooth lines. He had his way with you and then he disappeared. What does that tell you? He expects you to be gone before he gets back. It’s his way of escaping the uncomfortable conversation. He’s a decent man and won’t tell you to your face, so let me save him the trouble. Leave. Run off, little girl. You had your fun. You got to screw the rich guy, but that’s not going to happen again.”

“You’re a vile woman.”

“We are not the same,” Regina sneered. “You are the kind of woman that a guy fucks around with before he goes back home to his wife. We are a different breed. A different class. He knows he can’t take you into public. It would be like taking a rabid dog for a walk. I doubt you’re even house trained. If you think I’m going to let you be around my daughter, you’re dead wrong. You are a bad influence. Timothy knows that. My daughter will never be like you. She’s not going to be a blue-collar worker. Just go. Leave and chalk this up to your brush with success. This apartment, that house, Timothy are all things you will never have. You’re not good enough.”

I wasn’t going to let her vitriol hurt me. I knew she was lashing out because she’d lost him. I didn’t want to lower myself to her standards. But dammit, I wasn’t a saint. “He divorced you,” I reminded her. “You are not married to him. He’s moved on.”

A cold, calculated laugh escaped her lips. “Divorce is just a piece of paper. Timothy would do anything for Paisley, even if it means getting back together with me. I hold the cards here. You can spread your legs and do whatever you do for him, but I have the trump card.”

I stared at her in disbelief, unable to fathom the audacity of her manipulation.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I stated, my voice firm. “I’ll be here when Timothy returns.”