Hooking Up

by Helena Hunting

  “That’s not what I said. I asked you why he would use me to get back at you. What would be the purpose of that?”

  Armstrong’s expression is one of pompous satisfaction. “Because he doesn’t like it when I take the things he wants.”

  “Am I somehow one of those things? Tell me, Armstrong, why did you ask me out in the first place?”

  His brow furrows, the shift confusing him. “Don’t try to change the topic.”

  “I’m not. It’s a question directly related to this conversation. Why did you introduce yourself and ask me to dance?”

  He adjusts his tie. It’s a tell. A sign he’s uncomfortable, or being caught in some kind of lie. He does it a lot. “I told you why. I was saving you from making a mistake, one it appears you’ve decided to make anyway, despite my best efforts. I also thought you were attractive.”

  “Right, of course, you were saving me from Lex. Can you explain what you meant when you said Lex doesn’t like it when you take the things he wants?”

  “He has an inferiority complex when it comes to me.”

  “Is that why you hate each other?” I can’t trust anything that Armstrong says, but I’m still interested in the answer.

  “I don’t hate Lexington. I feel sorry for him, because he thinks he can best me, and he can’t.”

  “And what is he trying to best you at?”

  “You, of course.” He gives me a withering look. “You can stop lying, Amalie. I can smell his cologne all over you. I have to admit, he’s played this very smartly, although Ruby and Bancroft’s engagement party gave him an advantage.”

  I have to cross my arms over my chest so I don’t dick punch him again. “This a game to you.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Are you sure? Because that’s exactly how it sounds. Like I was a game you were playing to win.”

  “He walked away from you. That’s not my fault.”

  “Are you referring to the night we met? If so I’ll assume this entire thing with me is game to you. Good job on winning, too bad I’m not some medal you can show off.”

  He has the audacity to look affronted. “That’s not why I asked you to marry me, though.”

  I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “No. That was about money. Jesus Christ, Armstrong, this whole thing between us has been about you getting what someone else wanted, or whatever would best benefit your status. Is that the world you live in? Where people’s emotions are just an inconvenient side effect of the games you play with them?”

  “I’m not the only one involved here. Have you questioned why Lexington was in your bridal suite on our wedding day?”

  It feels like I’ve stepped in quicksand I can’t get free from. I can’t tell truth from lies anymore.

  My lack of immediate response spurs him on. “Do you really think it’s a coincidence that his date seduced me and then he ends up alone with you? Come on, Amalie, you’re smarter than that.”

  “Seduced? What a crock of shit.” My whole body feels suddenly numb.

  “Regardless of your perception, Brittany came on to me, not the other way around.”

  “And that’s supposed to make it okay?”

  “I’m just explaining. People make mistakes.” It might be easier to hear if he sounded contrite rather than annoyed.

  “You admitted to making the same mistake multiple times. With several different people,” I remind him.

  “I may have exaggerated out of anger.”

  “You are unbelievable.”

  He sighs, as if my continued resentment is inconveniencing him. “You can be angry, but this isn’t all on me. I’m trying to get you to see that I’m not the only one culpable here. How the hell did Lex end up in Bora Bora with you on our honeymoon? That’s far too convenient to be coincidental.”

  Until all of these cards were laid out for me, I wouldn’t have agreed with Armstrong, but it seems far too impossible with all of tonight’s revelations. I recognize this is Armstrong manipulating me, but I have to wonder where the fabrications begin and where they end. Because even though I don’t want him to be right, this sounds horribly suspect. I don’t want these puzzle pieces to fit together, because it means not only was my relationship with Armstrong a lie, but this thing with Lex could be as well. And it would explain why he’s been so easy about the secrecy, encouraging it even, maybe making a game of it.

  “Be honest, Amalie, how long have you been letting him fuck you? Since you left me in New York to go on our honeymoon?”

  I can’t listen to Armstrong anymore or I’m going to start believing the lies he spews. If any portion of it is true, I think I may have a breakdown, the kind that might just result in some time in a padded room. I spin around, groping for the door handle.

  He grabs for my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Away from you.”

  “You can’t run from me forever, Amalie.”

  He’s right. I can’t escape this. But listening to him isn’t helping. Not when it makes me feel like I’ve run from one colossal mistake only to make even bigger one.

  Twenty-Four: Falling Apart

  Lexington

  I’ve been stuck talking business with my father and one of his associates for a while now, and I can’t locate Amie anywhere in the ballroom. I saw her leave about fifteen minutes ago and I’ve texted her recently, but the messages go unanswered. Things are not going the way I’d like tonight.

  Gwendolyn is here, watching Amie like a vulture that hasn’t been fed in the last six months. I should’ve anticipated her presence. But it’s more than that. Amie’s been off ever since we almost got caught by Bane. I’m afraid of the questions she’s going to ask tonight and I’m worried that in her time alone with Ruby, she’s been given answers that will inevitably lead to more questions. I should’ve been upfront with her about the discord between me and Armstrong and how bad it had been, but I didn’t and I worry it’s going to give her cause to mistrust me.

  Tonight has made me hyperaware of how much I don’t want to hide this anymore. I want to be with her and not paranoid that someone’s going to find out before we’re ready. I don’t want to sneak around like we’re doing something wrong. I want to be at her side and not worry about accidentally touching her in a way I shouldn’t. I don’t care that she’s technically still married. Everyone knows the truth about that sham of a marriage.

  It’s only been a handful of months since that debacle of a wedding and I’m concerned that pushing for what I want is going to make her run. What’s more, I fear that’s already happened.

  Apart from the tenuous situation with Amie, my mother is a nervous wreck, although she’s masking it with excessive positivity. I’d hoped that Gwendolyn’s presence would help smooth things over and convince Armstrong to just let it go, let Amie go, but that’s not really how he works. I’m sure my appearance in Bora Bora and my parting comment to him is partly responsible for his inability to walk away from her. Goading him is never a good idea and I have difficulty with that.

  At a break in the conversation I excuse myself and go in search of Amie. Scanning the ballroom I come up empty, so I head for the foyer. There are very few people out here, most of them tucked away in corners, frantically typing on their phones, or engaged in hushed conversations. In this social sphere it’s not unusual for business transactions to take place at all hours of the day and night, even in the middle of a party.

  It’s at that moment that I spot my cousin Armstrong, lurking near the women’s bathroom.

  A hateful smile pulls up the corner of his mouth when he sees me heading for him. “Hello, Lexington.”

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “It’s my cousin’s engagement party, it would be rude not to attend, don’t you think?” He slips one hand into his pocket, that wry grin of his growing wider. “Besides, I thought it would be a good opportunity to see my wife.”

  “You need to stay away from Amie.”

  “Amie? That’s r
ather familiar. Didn’t take you long to move in on what’s mine.”

  I ignore the comment. “You need to leave.”

  “Is there a threat behind that? What exactly are you going to do if I don’t?”

  “Don’t you think it’s time to let it go? You’re not winning this one, Armstrong. She’s not a trophy for you to put in a case. You’ve screwed with her enough.”

  “What about you, Lex? Are you screwing with her?” His grin is calculated. “Always picking up my sloppy seconds. I find it fascinating how much you love to put your dick where mine’s already been, don’t you?”

  “You fucker.” I take a step forward, ready to break his damn nose again.

  He holds up a hand. “Think about how bad it would look if you attacked me, again, and for no apparent reason. I’m just here to support my cousin and his fiancée. It would be a pity if you ruined their night by making a scene, as you so often do.”

  “Do you ever get tired of being an asshole?”

  He laughs again, leaning against the wall. “You act like you haven’t been one, too. I understand why you hate me, Lex. I keep taking the things you want, and there’s really nothing you can do about it. Jealousy and envy are hard emotions to control, and yours is really quite reasonable considering the number of times I’ve fucked you, or maybe fucked what you thought was yours is a better way to put it.”

  I know he wants me to lose it and he’s pushing buttons to make that happen. “She’s not yours anymore, though, is she?”

  “On paper she is. Do you have any idea how satisfying it was when I stole her right out from under you?”

  “Stole, but lost.”

  “So you say, but I’m still married to Amalie. I made her mine. Nothing you do or say is going to change that. Unless I sign those papers, we’re still legally married.” He waves his hand around in the air. “You can’t win this one, Lex, no matter how hard you try.”

  “Are you even hearing me? It’s not about winning. It’s not a game. She’s not your toy. She’s not something you get to play with until she breaks.”

  “She is rather fun to play with, though.” He leans in close and lowers his voice, his smile full of malice. “That mouth of hers, so hard to tame, but so pretty when it’s full of cock, isn’t it?”

  I hate that he knows her body, but I take solace in the fact that there’s no way he knows it half as well as I do. “You think you know Amie, but you don’t. Not even a little, which is ironic considering you’re married to her and all.”

  “You think you know something I don’t?”

  I laugh at his annoyance. “You know what I’m better at than you, Armstrong? Pretty much everything. I’m an especially good listener, and I definitely don’t have the performance issues you seem to.”

  He takes another step closer, voice low and angry. “Did you fuck my wife?”

  “Did you know that she faked every single orgasm with you?” I’m pushing the line and stretching the truth, based on the things Amie confided in me. “You don’t even know what she sounds like when she comes. That’s pretty fucking sad, Armstrong, don’t you think? Especially since she’s your wife and all.”

  “Answer the question, Lexington. Did you fuck her?” He clenches his fists, as if he’s considering punching me.

  “Did you know that she packed an entire suitcase of sex toys? It’s quite an extensive collection. Looks like maybe you didn’t tame her nearly as well as you think you did.” I need to shut up. I don’t know enough about the prenup Amie signed to be certain I won’t make a mess of things if I imply anything else—well, more of a mess than I may have already with the Bane conversation earlier—but my mouth is working faster than my brain and Armstrong brings out the very worst side of me. “It’s unfortunate you’re too insecure to enjoy her the way you could’ve.”

  His jaw ticks, eyes narrowed. “But you did? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “You have no idea what you gave up. You might’ve had her, but you’re not getting her back. Not ever.” I need to stop talking. I know better than anyone the results of provoking Armstrong.

  A malignant sneer distorts his face. “And you think she won’t be done with you when she finds out you’re only fucking her to even the score?”

  That he still thinks this is about some kind of long-sought-after vengeance is mind-boggling. “You don’t even know the half of it. I did a hell of a lot more than even the score. You’re not even in the race anymore.”

  His smile is triumphantly vicious as his gaze moves over my shoulder. “Is that right? I’d love to hear more about that.”

  “So would I.” I find Amie standing behind us with her arms crossed over her chest. I have to wonder how long she’s been there and how much she heard.

  I take a step toward her. “You should come with me, Amie.”

  She takes several steps back, putting distance between us. I’m familiar with her expression, and it’s not one I’m happy to be involved in causing. “Don’t.”

  It’s not the response I want, particularly because it tells me what kind of damage Armstrong has done with one conversation. I move in closer, lowering my voice. “I don’t know what he said to you, but whatever it is, it’s not true, Amie. He said it just to hurt you and get back at me.”

  Her anger is etched through with sadness. She’s on the verge of tears. “Which part isn’t true? The part about evening the score, or maybe it was about how he failed to tame me. Or is it the insinuation that somehow you did?”

  “Someone wanna tell me what the fuck is going on here?” Bancroft’s deep, loud voice drowns out the rest of my plea.

  Amie’s relief is a slap in the face.

  “What’re you doing here?” Bane directs the question at Armstrong.

  His annoyed sneer is replaced by a fake, friendly smile as he turns to Bancroft. “I came to congratulate you on your engagement.”

  Bane looks at him as if he’s lost his mind. “You weren’t invited, Armstrong, and the reason for that is standing right there.”

  Armstrong glances at Amie, as if he’s just noticing her presence. “Amalie and I are working things out.”

  Amie snorts derisively. “On a cold day in hell.”

  “I seriously doubt that, unless you’re blackmailing her somehow, which really wouldn’t surprise me.” Bane glances at Amie. “You okay?”

  She gives him a curt nod and a tight smile. “Fine.”

  I’ve never hated that word more than I do right now.

  “Why don’t you go back into the ballroom? Ruby’s been forced onto the dance floor with my grandfather and she might need some saving, or he might. It’s hard to tell.”

  “Of course.” She squares her shoulders and gives both Armstrong and me a wide berth as she skirts us. “Thank you,” she murmurs, squeezing Bancroft’s arm as she passes.

  When I try to follow her, he puts out a hand to stop me. “I don’t think so.”

  Bane might be younger than me, but he’s still bigger, stronger, and faster. And in this case, he might have a right to keep me away from her.

  “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Your brother is fucking my wife,” Armstrong says, rather loudly.

  Thankfully there aren’t very many people out here, and the chatter and music from the ballroom filters into the foyer with the opening of the door.

  Bane’s lip curls and he claps a palm on the back of Armstrong’s neck, holding tight and getting in close. “You might want to keep your voice down, unless you’d like your nose broken again. I promise, cousin, no amount of surgery will make your face pretty again when I’m done with you.”

  Bane keeps the pressure on as he moves Armstrong around the corner. I follow, partly because I don’t want to miss it should Bane lay out Armstrong, and partly because, now that I have reinforcements and some privacy, I can say a few of the things I want to.

  “Listen to me.” Bane drops his hand but gets right up in Armstrong’s face. “You’re ruining my
engagement party because you can’t let shit go. I get that it’s hard for you to grasp that the world doesn’t revolve around you, but this isn’t the time or the place to air your grievances, or plead your case with Amie.”

  “I can’t get to her any other way. Everyone has made it impossible otherwise.”

  “And why do you think that is, Armstrong?”

  He peeks out from behind Bane. “Fuck you, Lexington. You can’t have what’s mine.”

  “Can I just punch him?” I look to my brother who’s wearing an incredulous expression, before I turn my attention back to Armstrong. “Amie is not a possession. I don’t understand how you don’t get that. You destroyed what you had. No one is responsible for that but you. You ruined her and I put her back together.”

  “Isn’t that convenient for you, always playing the hero like you do. Not anymore, though, not now that she knows you were just after her because of me.” He’s back to looking smug.

  Bancroft shakes his head and rolls his shoulders. He’s been pushed to his limits. Frankly so have I. “I’m very close to knocking you out if you don’t shut up. Your history with Lex is not a reason to torture Amie. She’s been through enough. You humiliated her and you continue to torment her by refusing to sign the annulment papers. You’re dragging your family’s name through the dirt by acting like this. As much as you’d like to think your family controls the media, people talk. Your competition hired her for Christ’s sake. Now I’m going to escort you to the elevators and one of the security guards is going to make sure you get in a car. If you come back, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

  When I make a move to go with them, Bane points a finger at me. “You stay here and don’t move.”

  Normally I wouldn’t be inclined to take orders from my little brother, but in this case I think it’s imperative that I do.

  He’s back less than a minute later. “How long?”

  I don’t need to ask him what he’s referring to. “A while.”

  “Be more specific. What’s a while? A week? A month? Longer?”

  Shit. I don’t want to come clean about this right now, not before I can talk to Amie. “It’s been months.”