I accept that. I have to. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have this job. I’d be flipping burgers or smiling politely at snobby women in a high-end boutique somewhere.
I hide. I pretend. I lie.
My life is a lie.
It’s full of cheating and things that mean nothing.
I always live for the other side of it. When I’m Dayton, I wish I could be Mia—confident and outgoing and out there. When I’m Mia, I wish I could be Dayton—curled up in my pajamas with a tub of ice cream in front of the television, laughing with my best friend.
Either way, I’m not completely happy.
The last few weeks have changed that. Being with Aaron again reminded me of everything I’d left behind. He reminded me what it is to look into the eyes of someone who cares and smile. What it is to feel red-hot desire rushing through your veins and to feel that desire aimed straight back at you.
He reminded me how to love and be loved.
He also reminded me why I shouldn’t believe in love.
And the skinny blond woman walking toward us with her lips curved in an evil smirk is the reason why. Naomi Lane, married name Stone. She’s everything I’m not, and the Prada woman’s words make sense.
We’re polar opposites. She’s light and a size zero. I’m dark and a comfy size six.
We couldn’t be more different.
“Aaron! How lovely for you to clear your schedule for tonight.” She kisses his cheek, an action I notice he doesn’t return.
“I believe I had no choice,” he responds dryly. “Dayton, this is Naomi. My ex-wife.”
Those words punch me in the stomach. Gut wrenching isn’t even strong enough to describe it. More like stomach twisting, nausea inducing, heart clawing.
“Naomi, my girlfriend, Dayton.”
“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you!” She fakes a smile and leans forward to air kiss me. It takes everything I have, but I return the gesture. I’m not Dayton. I’m Mia. I’m strong.
“Really? I can’t say I’ve heard very much about you at all. A few passing comments, maybe.”
She blinks. “Oh. I suppose Aaron’s been very busy with taking over the company and you haven’t had much time to talk.”
“Oh, we’ve had plenty of time to talk…among other things…but you just never came up.” I smile.
Her jaw tightens and she turns light brown eyes on Aaron. “And how is the change going?”
“The contracts are locked in the lawyer’s desk, waiting for the day our divorce papers land there.” Aaron’s fingers twitch at my side. “We can all hope that will be soon.”
“Oh, darling. You’re being unreasonable in your agreement. Can’t we just discuss it?”
“Naomi, you made a point by organizing this tonight. If you found out I’m here, I’m sure you’re aware I’m not working this week. I don’t wish to discuss anything with you. I’m not paying two lawyers so we can sit and have coffee to iron out your ridiculous terms.”
“Aaron, honey.” I flatten my hand against his stomach. “Shall we get a drink? I don’t think this is the place to be discussing this.”
He takes a deep breath and kisses the top of my head. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
We cross the room to the bar, and aware of her eyes still on us, I try not to move away from him like I want to.
“You handled her well,” Aaron says softly.
“Nothing like letting the woman your boyfriend is married to think you don’t care.” I run my tongue along my bottom lip and take a long drink from my wine glass. “She’s a bitch, by the way. You picked a real good one there.”
I’m fighting inside myself. This was a stupid idea—coming here and pretending my heart isn’t shattering inside me with each word. Pretending I can stand in front of her and not give a f**k she’s married to the man I love so wholly.
I reach inside my purse and grab my silenced cell. “Excuse me. I have a call.”
Understanding flashes in his eyes, and he shoots from his seat just as quickly as I do. I make a show of walking through the room, my finger in my ear, my lips parting in shock. Aaron follows me the whole time I act my charade. I talk trash into the silent phone until I reach the elevator.
I jab the doors shut before he can enter. My chest heaves. I swallow back a lump of emotion and lock myself in the suite, tearing my dress from my body.
I grab the room phone and call down to the concierge, walking through the suite in my underwear, gathering my things.
“Concierge desk.”
“This is Miss Black, from the presidential suite. I have a family emergency and have to leave immediately. Can you call for a porter to remove my bags and a car to take me to the Charles de Gaulle airport in ten minutes?”
“Of course, mademoiselle. Is Monsieur Stone aware of your departure?”
My eyes lock with a pair of tortured blue eyes as he crashes through the door.
“Yes,” I say into the phone. “He’s aware.”
I put it down and throw a dress over my head, still aimlessly throwing my things in my suitcases.
“Don’t go,” Aaron whispers. “Please. Don’t go.”
“I don’t have a choice.” I zip the cases one by one. “If you’d told me before, maybe I could have dealt with it. But to tell me an hour before you expect me to stand face to face to her? No way, Aaron. No way.”
“Dayton. Please.” He strides forward and cups my face, bringing his forehead to mine. “Please. Just one night. Let me explain everything. Just don’t leave me again.”
“You knew I was going tonight. I’m just leaving sooner. I can’t stay down there with her, and it’s ridiculous to expect me to.”
The emotion comes crashing through my body. My heart thumps, my chest constricts. Every part of me shakes, and the tears…
God, the tears.
They fill my eyes and spill over before I can do anything. Before I can fight against the drop, they fall down my cheeks.
“Fuck, Dayton,” he rasps. His voice is hoarse and raw, holding the pain I feel. He brushes his thumbs across my cheeks. “Don’t go, baby. Don’t go.”
With everything I have, I step back and shake my head. “You lied to me, Aaron. A lie of omission, but a lie all the same. This isn’t a tiny thing that can be swept under the rug and forgotten. This is huge and a central part of your life. All the times you asked me to tell you everything about me, you were never willing to return that. You were never going to tell me. You said so yourself. I can’t stay. I’m sorry.”