“Duncan,” Rosabel said softly under her breath. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of an answer. She suddenly knew exactly what their reaction would be. Why did he insist on broadcasting anything if they were going to treat her this way? Like she was something they’d stepped in? “Don’t.”
“I love her,” Duncan pronounced. “And if you’ll give her a chance, you can come to love her too.”
“You’re settling,” Grandma said. “Remember the last time you made such a hasty decision? Horace died of a heart attack. I’d hate to have such a grave result of my actions.”
“I didn’t cause the heart attack.” Duncan’s voice was dangerously low and filled with emotion.
“And now you bring her here when we should be celebrating me? Who is she? Who are her parents?”
Thanks to their raised voices, people collected around them the way they did at wrecks on the freeway, slowing life down to take in every gory detail before zipping past and getting on with their lives. Men and women leaned together, whispering behind their hands. A few pointed, and several women even had their phones out—recording the embarrassing scene, no doubt. Rosabel closed her eyes.
“Her parents …” Duncan muttered, letting whatever he was going to say slip away.
What was he doing? Why didn’t he say anything?
His grandmother laughed, pushing aside the hat box so the container clanked with the silverware and table settings. The water in the glasses wavered. “You were raised for more than this,” Grandma said with dignity as her daughter-in-law lifted her chin. “Men like you don’t go settling down with their assistants. Look at her; she’s not the marrying kind. She only wants your money.”
Duncan’s jaw flushed and he lowered his head as if in defeat. Rosabel waited for him to step in, to defend himself and her. But he stood there with his hands fisted at his sides, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Rosabel had heard enough. “How do you know what kind I am?” Tears stung her eyes. Not only had Duncan done little to defend himself, but he’d barely stood up for her. His words in her parents’ defense were fleeting at best, and then he’d given up the argument, just like that. Worse, though, were the scathing, lip-curled looks being lobbed at her from both of the Hawthorne women.
She waited, pulsing, roasting beneath the heat of their glances. Any minute now, Duncan would turn. He’d take her hand again. He’d declare his disregard for their opinions and prove his claim to love her. He would demand they treat her with the respect she deserved.
Instead, he sniffed and glanced at her over his shoulder and remained silent.
That glance, his silence, ostracized her from him more than anything else could have. She read everything in it—his acceptance of his family’s opinions, his resolution to do as bidden, and his determination to add distance between himself and her.
Rosabel closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere else. Had she forgotten so easily how he’d treated her before they’d come? She’d let her pity and sympathy take over, and she never should have forgotten his nasty, business side. The real Duncan. This vile woman, this family, were the reason he’d treated her the way he had for so long, and even though he’d been different recently, those feelings still stung.
Moments between them these past few days had been completely unforgettable, which was the reason this rejection devastated her. She’d hoped he’d changed. She’d wanted to believe his words. But standing here now, she knew …
She should never have fallen for it. She should never have fallen for him.
A thousand backlashing, mean-spirited words ran through her mind, but she stomped every one of them away. Lifting her chin, Rosabel gave each Hawthorne her most scathing look before turning and strutting past all the onlookers with their whispers and their cell phones to the room’s exit.
Her thoughts ranted, fueled by mortification and indignation. Those women. Never had she encountered anyone so mean-hearted. If Duncan was a beast, then his grandmother was—
No. She wouldn’t stoop that low. But every gracious thought she tried to conjure fled. That encounter was downright nasty. Her heels clacked in double time on the hard floor. She couldn’t get out fast enough. Forget taking the time to browse the museum and see the paintings and other artwork offered. She wasn’t going to stay a minute longer.
Behind her, Duncan called her name. “Rosabel. Rosie, wait.”
She didn’t. She continued her glorious exit, eager, desperate for fresh air and to be as far away from those despicable people as possible.
His steps increased. He caught up to her. “Rosie.”
In the foyer, feet from the museum entrance, with people flocking on every side, she rounded on him. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’m sorry about that. I’m—I’m so embarrassed. I knew she wouldn’t take it well, but I never thought—”
Rosabel couldn’t believe this. “I never said you had to announce your interest like we were engaged, like you were on some triumphal quest to prove your manhood. Why did you have to do this now? At her birthday party, in front of everyone?”
“I didn’t want to act like you were nothing to me,” he argued.
She fought the lump in her throat. “You didn’t have to. You should have picked a different time to handle such an apparently delicate subject. I’ve never been so embarrassed.”
“Yeah, well, me neither.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
Was he saying her tripping had embarrassed him? Or maybe the fact that his grandma had called her a gold-digger? “How dare you.”
“No,” he said, smoothing a hand through the air. “I didn’t mean it like that. I love you, Rosie. I was trying to do the right thing by you. I let my nerves take over back there and handled the situation wrong. You’re right—I should have told them in a more private setting. Please give me another chance.”
His desperation struck her, but she couldn’t allow it to soften the frustration boiling in her chest. This was too much. She had the feeling being with him would give her whiplash—like she could trust him one minute and then had to be on her guard the next. She did care for him, but no relationship was worth such inconsistency. So much heartache.
“I gave you a chance. I put my heart out on a limb for you, the way I have a thousand times before. Your terrible attitude came because of your family, Duncan, and I’ve never felt so humiliated in all my life. When you had the chance to defend me and my parents, you ignored me. How can I know you’ve really changed when you grew up that way? I asked you not to present me to them now, and you didn’t listen. Once again, you put your ego and your pride first. You put your need to show how strong you are first, like this was a business negotiation. But I’m not a business conquest.”
“I never said you were.”
Her throat burned. “I’m going home. I’m quitting, for real this time. I’ll find my own way to take care of my father. Please don’t contact me again.”
Pain pooled in his eyes. “Rosabel, don’t do this. Rosie!”
Heartache crushed her chest. She wanted to relent, to give in and comfort him, but that would only lead to more pain. Instead, she strode her way toward the exit, praying he wouldn’t follow.
16
Once they’d passed through security, the Uber driver made a dozen comments about the mountain cove’s homes as he pulled into the billionaire lakeside community. Rosabel ignored him, disregarding the way she’d harbored a similar admiration at her first arrival too. Forget the fancy houses and the lake’s splendor. She wanted home, Dad, her bed, and her small life. She wanted to be as far away from stuffy people as possible.
After ensuring the driver would wait, she stood at the driveway’s end and stared up at the stupid, beautiful house. She wanted to kick it. She wanted to bash its mailbox and throw rocks at every window. Toss some toilet paper into the trees for good measure. That’d show ’em.
But she stood there, purse in hand, head bowed, and let the sorrow settle. Her che
st ached. Her vision blurred. Heaviness pounded every one of her limbs.
“Is there anyone out there as stupid as I am?” she muttered.
“You talking to me?”
Rosabel startled. Hazel had crossed the street and stood across from her whitewashed estate mansion that appeared as though it’d been plucked directly from the Tuscan countryside and inserted here. With its rounded side tower, its tiled roof, and the windows accented with miniature iron balconies, it was European to the max.
“Hazel,” Rosabel said, chagrined at having been overheard.
“Hey, I don’t have a lot of time, but is everything okay?” Hazel wore a blue business suit with a pencil skirt and sky-blue heels. Her black hair draped down her back in a single sheet of vibrant perfection. Rosabel’s hair would never behave like that.
She would have laughed if she were in a different mood. “Remember when you told me to make sure Duncan was worth the risk? Well, he’s not.”
“Girl, I’m sorry,” Hazel said.
Rosabel stared at her empty hands. “I was wrong. Men are idiots.”
Hazel stroked Rosabel’s forearm. “What happened?”
“I trusted him,” Rosabel said. “I should have known better.” Admitting every detail now would sound too petty. She was humiliated. How could she have let her guard down around him? And to think she’d fallen in love with him? She was a fool. A total, complete fool. “Anyway, I don’t have a lot of time, either. That’s my Uber. I’m going back to Vermont.”
Hazel pouted her lower lip. “So soon?”
Rosabel exhaled. “Yeah. Look, it was great to meet you. I’ll look you up on social media, okay? We should keep in touch.”
“Definitely,” Hazel agreed. To Rosabel’s surprise, she pulled her into a hug. “You take care, okay? I’m off to a meeting.”
“You too,” Rosabel said, waving as Hazel clacked her way to her tiny sports car.
Rosabel hesitated a moment longer. She waited for Duncan’s car to pull in, but he wasn’t going to come after her. She knew he wouldn’t. Their fling had been just that: a fling. Forget the feelings. Forget the whirlwind romance she’d thought had been building up and finally found a landing point.
“Never again,” she told herself as she dashed inside. She threw her belongings into her suitcase, quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt—leaving the Eureka Springs one behind on the bed—and rushed back outside.
Sooner than she expected, her Uber driver pulled into Fayetteville’s small airport. Rosabel thanked him and gave him a tip for waiting for her. She would go home to Vermont, take Dad out of Duncan’s paid care.
And she would refuse to see Duncan Hawthorne ever again.
17
Rosabel clicked through the blogging site, attempting to insert the rudimentary but functional header she’d designed. Rosie’s Editing Service. The logo featured a red flower beneath her name.
She’d written a pricing page along with her terms and conditions and privacy policy. She’d also reached out and managed to secure several projects through a small press, between sorting through contracts and diving into the edits for several books. Having something to focus on in the weeks since returning from Eureka Springs was refreshing.
Even now, she couldn’t manage to sort anything out from that confusing trip. She did her best to suppress the recurring heartache, the uncertainty, and especially the outrageous longing undulating within her.
“I did the right thing,” she told herself for the hundredth time.
Like always, however, the affirmation held little sway. Had she done the right thing? She couldn’t help feeling like she was the beastly one this time. She’d left without saying goodbye. Without giving him a chance to talk to her again.
The worry that she’d made a horrible decision refused to leave her alone, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer Duncan’s many calls and texts.
“I ended it,” she said to the quiet dining room while Dad snored quietly in his recliner. “I did the right thing.”
The website on her screen, the words highlighting her qualifications, the few reviews she’d managed to scrounge up—everything blurred. She was right. She was sure of it. So why did distancing herself from him continue to hound her?
A pinging sound came from her computer. Eager for the distraction, she clicked on her email, only to have her heart seize in her chest.
The sender’s name read, Duncan Hawthorne.
He hadn’t emailed her since she’d quit. Couldn’t he get the hint and leave her alone?
With reluctance, with her heart pounding a billion beats per minute, she clicked on his name and opened it.
Rosabel,
I had every good intention when we walked into that party together. I was going to keep your hand in mine, to show you I wasn’t ashamed of you the way I know my parents expected me to be. Looking back now, I realize what I put you through. In my attempt to show my family I was proud of my relationship with you, I ended up throwing you to the wolves instead.
That was never what I wanted. I should have handled things differently, so you weren’t put on the spot in such a vulnerable way.
The problem was, I should have patched things up with Grandmother first. She’s always been what most people would call a snob. I hate the way she treated you, the way she snubbed you for being a working-class woman, judging you by your social status as if this was a previous era.
It all got blown out of proportion. I should never have let my nerves take over. I should never have let my past with my family affect the way I acted. I’m so sorry. See? I can say that. I’m sorry. I’ll say it over and over again until you believe it.
Please forgive me, my Rosabel. I’m back in Vermont now, so I hope you’ll let me see you.
Love, Duncan
She had runner’s lungs. Energy hummed in her bones, and she couldn’t hope to slow her pulse. He could have sent flowers or a hot-air balloon, and they wouldn’t have struck her as much as this did. How could words have such a tangible effect on her?
She skimmed the email repeatedly. Even though he didn’t elaborate, she read everything he didn’t say. He’d promised her he would change. He’d been trying to keep that promise. True, he’d done it in the worst way, with terrible timing, but he’d been trying. She couldn’t expect more.
Adrenaline continued to make a blender of her insides. She could forgive him. She already felt the bitterness melting away inside of her. But to face that kind of humiliation again—that was something she wasn’t sure she could handle.
If she did pursue a relationship with him, that meant seeing his family. Avoiding them was practically impossible, especially during holidays or special occasions—like his grandma’s birthday parties. Duncan said he rarely went home, but he’d bought a house near Eureka Springs. Why else would he do that if not to bridge the gap that had been between him and his family for so long?
She couldn’t handle being a part of that. Not after the way they’d criticized her right to her face. She wasn’t sure she’d met anyone quite so loathsome and downright awful.
Her dad snorted, jerking awake and staring around as if wondering where he was. He wore a cozy green sweater and gray sweats. A blanket covered his legs, keeping him warm in the house’s air conditioning.
“What do I do, Daddy?” she asked him, knowing she wouldn’t get much of a response. Even though she’d asked Duncan to cease the payments, she discovered he’d paid for an entire year outright, and that wasn’t the kind of thing they refunded. Besides, she didn’t have the money to cover the costs of such extensive care, and her dad had been getting the best treatment he ever had.
She’d decided to wait until the year was out. Seven more months. That would give her time to find another situation that might suit him and her budget. While she’d gotten a few editing jobs, she also needed to hunt for something that would guarantee her a steadier paycheck.
Her dad didn’t answer. Moving dazedly, he pulled the newspaper on the en
d of the table near him onto his lap. Sadness expanded Rosabel’s ribs. He used to love doing sudoku every day in the paper’s puzzle section.
In a strange way, she wished she could talk to Hazel. They’d had a connection during their morning runs that she hadn’t had with a friend in a long time. Against her better judgment, she sent Hazel a call through a social media messenger.
She didn’t answer.
“Of course not,” Rosabel muttered, slamming her finger down to end the call. From the few texts they’d sent, Hazel had told her how tightly packed her schedule always was. Hazel had said making time to exercise restored her sanity through the hustle and bustle of everything else she was trying to do. It wasn’t easy for a woman to be a billionaire in a man’s world.
Rosabel turned to her dad, talking as though they’d already started a conversation. “He’s been so confusing, and kind of hurtful, honestly. He’s never treated me very well until I started to demand that he did.”
She paused, thinking over what she’d just said. She considered everything that had happened from the time they’d arrived in Arkansas: meeting his family, witnessing the barriers between himself and her melt until they’d vanished completely …
“Maybe that was why, though,” she went on, focusing on her dad’s slippers. “Maybe he honestly didn’t know any better, considering the way his family goes around treating everyone. He just needed someone to stand up to him and show him a different way.”
Rosabel dipped her head in her hands. “And I did that, Daddy. I helped him, and he showed me a different side of himself. A side I’d always wished he had. A side that took my feelings from like to something deeper. I never wanted to feel the way I did for him—he’d always been such a jerk. But now … Now that I know he’s not? I don’t know what to do.”
“Henry.” Her dad’s sweet, familiar voice cut through the stillness like a blade. “Henry loved his wife.”
Rosabel smiled and patted his hand, which still clutched the newspaper in his lap. “I know, Daddy. I know you miss your brother.”
Rosabel And The Billionaire Beast (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 6) Page 14