Bane’s eyes go wide and his hands curl into fists. “What?”
“It’s not what you think.” I should expect the punch, but I’m not prepared for it. I double over, clutching my gut. I cough a few times and try not to throw up the scotch or my dinner. It hurts a lot more than it did when we were kids.
“Were you with her this afternoon?”
I’m still trying to catch my breath, so I nod.
“You fuckhead.” He grabs me by the lapels and hoists me up so we’re eye to eye. “What were you thinking? Of all the women you could screw, why her? Why my fiancée’s best friend? Why Armstrong’s goddamn wife? Do you have any idea how bad this looks, especially with your history with Armstrong? Does she even know about that? I told you to keep an eye on her, I fucking told you to watch yourself, and did you listen? Of course not.”
He shoves me and I stumble back into the wall. It looks like he’s thinking about hitting me again. When we were kids we used to wrestle a lot. Until we were teenagers I always won. Then Bancroft hit a growth spurt and I started losing, every damn time. He cocks a fist, possibly to break my nose, so I blurt, “I’m in love with her.”
His frowns and hesitates.
“I love her,” I repeat.
“You better not be saying that just to avoid getting punched in the face.”
I shake my head and bend at the waist, bracing my hands on my knees. Bane has a mean right hook. “I mean it. I’m in love with her.”
He stares at me for a few very long seconds, then runs his hand through his hair. It’s not a great move, since it’s curly and has product in it keep it from getting out of control, which it now is. “You’re serious.” He’s definitely stunned.
“Yeah. It’s pretty bad. I’m kinda fucked right now.”
“When did this happen?”
“You mean the feelings part?”
“The whole thing.”
“You have to promise not to punch me again.”
Bane gives me a look. “Did this start in Bora Bora?”
At my nod Bane flexes his hands and releases a slow breath. “You’ve been hiding this the entire time?”
“No. Well, yes. It wasn’t supposed to be anything beyond just hooking up when we were there, because we knew it wasn’t a good idea, but then you got engaged and things just . . . happened. And then we kept it quiet because Armstrong wouldn’t sign the annulment papers.”
Bane rubs the back of his neck. “Couldn’t have picked a more complicated person to fall for?”
I shrug. “We both know I don’t like doing things the easy way.”
“Isn’t that the truth?”
“Armstrong has done a pretty good job of screwing things up for me, as he does.”
Bane puts a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You’ve fixed worse.”
I don’t know if he’s right. I don’t know if there is worse than this.
* * *
Not long after Bane and I return to the hall we’re called on by Mimi, who thanks us for our help in organizing the party. Amie’s gracious and well spoken, turning her smile on me as she tells the attendees how she couldn’t have done it without my help. Her anger simmers just under the surface, though. I want an opportunity to make that emotion disappear. But I don’t get a chance to talk to her before she leaves the stage and moves through the crowd of guests. By the time I’m finished saying good night to everyone I can’t find her anywhere.
I sneak out of the ballroom and head for the elevators that will take me to the penthouse floor, pulling up her contact on the way. I’m unsurprised when it goes to voicemail. “Amie, baby, I know you probably have some questions. A lot of questions, and that’s understandable. I just want you to give me a chance to answer them, so please when you get this message call me back.”
I hit end and tap restlessly on the handrail. This elevator is taking forever. When I reach the penthouse floor I bypass my room and knock on her door. I get no response. What if she went somewhere other than her room? Would she go to the lobby bar? I don’t think so, but it’s possible that she’s planning to run, as she sometimes does.
I go to my own room, debating my options in this situation. I should’ve been prepared for this eventuality, but our bubble of secrecy made me feel falsely protected even if I wanted it to disappear.
I cross over to the door connecting our rooms and knock quietly, but get no response. I call her again, put my ear to the door and listen, pressing the phone against my thigh to muffle the ringing on my end. I catch the faint sound of her phone through the steel barrier and hear a muffled thump, followed by Amie swearing.
“Amie, baby, can you open the door for me, please? I just want to talk. Can we do that? You know how Armstrong is, how he twists things around. He’s a liar and a manipulator. I’ll answer any questions you have if you just open the door. I’ll explain so it makes sense.”
The silence stretches out, vast and empty.
“Let me try and make it better, Amie, please.”
A muted click has me rushing to my door and throwing it open just as Amie attempts to sneak past with her suitcase. I step out into the hall, blocking her way. “You’re really going to run away without giving me a chance to explain?”
“What’re you going to explain, Lex? How you were getting back at Armstrong for stealing the toy you saw first? How amazing it must’ve felt to steal it back and play with it? I trusted you. How far were you going to take this?”
“You only heard part of the conversation and it was taken out of context. Amie, please come in and talk to me. You know me better than this.”
“I thought I did. I don’t know who to trust.” She closes her eyes and tears track down her cheeks. “I just keep making these bad decisions and I didn’t want you to be one of them.”
“I promise I’m not.”
“Then why does it feel like I’m part of some pissing contest?”
“Look, I should’ve told you about my history with Armstrong and how bad things got when we were kids. Eventually I just backed down and let him have what he wanted because he treats people the same way he treats everything else, with complete disregard. But after what happened at the wedding I was done letting him have things he didn’t deserve. But I promise, Amie, it was never about getting him back. Not for me. I never planned to rub it in his face like he rubbed you in mine.”
I touch her arm and she jerks away. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry. I only want to talk, Amalie. I won’t touch you again if you don’t want me to.” I motion inside my room.
She sighs and crosses the threshold. I hope my words are going to be enough to keep her from running again.
Twenty-Five: Believe Me
Amie
I feel broken. Shattered might be a better word.
As I stand in the middle of Lex’s room, I acknowledge for a moment that so much of this is my fault. This position I find myself in is my own doing. I’ve created this situation, maybe not consciously, but I’m still the one who should be held responsible for my emotional state.
I hate that Armstrong still has the ability to make me question myself and the people I trust.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Lex asks softly.
I think I’m even in love with his voice.
“Please.” It’s more whisper than word.
“Do you have any preference? I have sparkling water and orange juice.”
I close my eyes against the razorblade edge of pain that simple offering brings. Because Lex knows what my favorite things are. He knows the exact ratio of orange juice to sparkling water I like. He pays attention to the small details. The little things are what made me fall. I want him to fall with me. I don’t want to be alone in this love.
“That would be perfect, thank you.”
“Why don’t you have a seat?” He gestures to the couch.
My legs carry me weakly across the soft carpet and I drop down on the plush red velvet. Hours ago I’d considered how I’d planned
to change into sexy lingerie and make good use of this particular piece of furniture. Now I’m sitting here, watching my life fall apart all over again, and the only constant is Lex and my bad decisions. I don’t want them to be one and the same.
I try to breathe through the pain in my chest as the conversations over the past several hours filter through my head, starting with Bane and Lex in this room, mine with Ruby next door, Armstrong’s vicious attempt at blackmail and finally the overheard conversation between Lex and Armstrong.
Dominos line up just to knock each other over, the last one threatening to tip me over the edge.
Lex sets a glass in front of me and sits at the other end of the couch, giving me space. He stretches his arm across the back of the cushions, regarding me sadly. “I think I should probably start with the discord between Armstrong and me.”
“Was I one of your competitions?”
“For Armstrong? Possibly. For me, no.”
“And I should believe you because?”
Lex exhales a heavy breath. “I don’t have a reason to lie to you, Amie. It’s not going to get me what I want and it’s only going to widen the chasm between us. I’d prefer to narrow that gap with long overdue truths.”
I motion for him to continue. My hands are shaking so much I have to hold my glass with two hands to keep it steady.
“Armstrong was my best friend growing up, as much as he could be anyone’s best friend, I suppose. Gwendolyn and my mother had very different approaches to parenting. Gwendolyn wasn’t interested in being a mother, and if she’d had her way, he would’ve been sent to boarding school like Lincoln, but for some reason that didn’t happen. My mother felt bad for him, and as a result Armstrong spent a lot of time with my family.”
“He doesn’t have a relationship with his older brother at all?” I’ve only heard mention of him in passing, Gwendolyn and Fredrick don’t even talk about him. I’m not even sure if he was invited to the wedding at all.
“He didn’t while we were growing up. Armstrong and I are the same age, so for me it was like having another brother. We were in the same classes together all the way through to high school. We joined a lot of the same teams, shared a lot of the same interests. The competitiveness started out innocently enough. It was just the usual kid stuff, who got the highest marks, the most goals, the best golf score.”
He pauses to take a sip of his drink. “We got into a lot of trouble together. I got in more when I was with him, but he was really good at pushing the blame on me, and I took it most of the time because my parents weren’t as hard on me as his were on him.
“Anyway, in high school things started to change. You know how it is, new friends, new interests. I had an easier time making friends than he did, and he didn’t really like that. One day me and a bunch of guys decided to go down to the river and Armstrong wanted to come even though water and heights freak him out.”
“The bridge-jumping accident?”
“Did Ruby tell you about that?” He taps restlessly on the back of the couch.
“She didn’t have much in the way of details. I can’t imagine Armstrong jumping off a bridge into water.”
“He shouldn’t have done it, and it was my fault he did.” He sighs but keeps talking. “Armstrong had managed to steal a bottle of his dad’s scotch, so the guys were all over him being there, even though most of them didn’t really like him, because as you know, Armstrong can be a dick when he wants to. I was used to it, but sometimes it got tiring. We were drinking and being stupid. Armstrong wouldn’t stop one-upping me on everything. It was petty teenage posturing. I should’ve just let it go, but I’d had enough that day, so when the guys decided to bridge jump, I dared Armstrong to do it. At first I didn’t think he would, but I just kept pushing. I should’ve known better.”
“I can’t believe he went through with it.”
“Neither could I, to be honest. He’d had a lot of shots. He was trying to be cool. We all were. It didn’t take long for me to realize it was a really bad idea. He full on panicked as soon as he hit the water. One of the guys took a bunch of pictures of the whole thing, from Armstrong jumping to me going in after him. He almost ended up drowning us both. He pulled me under trying to use me to stay afloat. That’s when I ripped my back open on the rocks. Eventually I managed to get us out.”
I can only imagine how terrifying that would’ve been. And how guilty Lex must have felt after that. “What happened with the pictures?”
Lex exhales a tired breath. “He posted them all over the place. Most of the school saw them and drew their own conclusions. They weren’t flattering for Armstrong.”
“Oh God.” The humiliation must have been awful for him.
“Yeah. It was like teenage social murder for Armstrong. It made me look like some kind of hero and Armstrong just like this self-indulgent brat, when really it was my fault he jumped at all. If I hadn’t gone in after him he might not have survived. I couldn’t have lived with that. Eventually his family was able to have the images removed, but the damage was already done.”
It’s hard not to feel for both of them in that situation. Kids can be cruel to each other, and it seems like there were no innocents here. “What happened after that?”
“Gwen blamed it on me, and my mother blamed it on Armstrong. They separated us. For me it was manageable, I had two brothers, but he had no one, and school wasn’t a great place for him. After that the competition between us got a lot worse, and became less . . . innocuous. He couldn’t get over what had happened so he went out of his way to do things to mess with me. If I was interested in someone he’d find a way to fuck it up or get in there before I could. That wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, but sometimes it got nasty. I was complicit more than I should’ve been. He’d sabotage me and then I’d do the same to him.”
“Sabotage how?” I don’t know this side of Lex and I’m not sure I like it.
“Some of it was just prank stuff. Once he put laxatives in my protein shake when we were on the soccer team. It was a huge game. I was better than he was, but then I couldn’t play and he got more time on the field because of it. And once I gave him a bogus copy of an exam so he’d memorized all the wrong things and tanked. It ruined his GPA that year.”
I got into trouble, but not that kind. “That’s—”
“Vindictive.” Lex purses his lips, watching my reaction. “It wasn’t good and those weren’t even close to the worst things we did to each other. Armstrong’s retaliations were creative, but mine were just as bad. There were a couple of summers I got sent to work with my dad on projects out of the country because Armstrong and I together was bad news. By college we didn’t get along at all.
“He’d do things to make me look incompetent, embarrass me at family functions, really just anything he could do to make things difficult for me. A few times he managed to hack into my work email and mess with files when I first started working with my father. There weren’t any lines he wouldn’t cross, and it seemed like it was confined to me and no one else. And then he started using people against me.”
“Using people how?” I have to wonder if this is where I come in.
Lex watches the ice cubes swirl in his glass. “He’d screw a girl I was dating just to piss me off. He made relationships impossible for a while and I just kind of took it, because he was already fucked up and I felt like it was my fault that it got worse. But he just kept pushing, and every time I pushed back it would escalate. I didn’t want to keep perpetuating that kind of toxic conflict, it was too consuming, and it was making a mess of my life. So after a while if he wanted something, I just let him have it.”
So much makes sense now. I ask the question I have half an answer to already. “Is that what happened with me?”
“I pointed you out to someone at that event. I didn’t realize Armstrong was listening. I called dibs like an asshole and went to talk to you.”
“And when you went to get me a drink . . .”
Lex smiles
ruefully. “Armstrong did what he does best, he stepped in and put on the charm.”
“He warned me about you, said he was saving me from making a mistake.”
“Sounds exactly like something he would say, and I’m sure in his mind it’s true.”
My mouth is dry and my palms are clammy. “And how did you retaliate?”
“I didn’t. I mean, sure, I was annoyed, and yeah, I wanted to, but that’s just what Armstrong does. I figured he would screw up somehow and that whatever was going on between you wouldn’t last long. I was shocked when you got engaged. And then I figured maybe you were really good for him. That you’d been able to bring out better parts in him, if there were any left.”
“But I didn’t.”
“In your defense, I don’t think there is any good in Armstrong to bring out. I just really couldn’t understand how he managed to get you to agree to marry him.” Lex looks at me like he’s expecting answers of his own.
Explaining is hard, because my reasons for agreeing to marry Armstrong weren’t the right ones. “Obviously I made a huge mistake.”
“I want you to know that as much as I didn’t like that Armstrong was marrying you, I never would’ve done anything to compromise that. I get that it might be difficult not to see the coincidences as more than that, but I had no plans to sabotage him, not with Brittany, not with me being in your bridal suite. It was the best place to hide.”
“What about Bora Bora?”
“My being there was another very odd coincidence. I’d like to think of it more as fate pulling strings.” He gives me a small smile.
“So sleeping with me wasn’t about getting back at Armstrong?”
“You were in a bad headspace, Amie. Revenge isn’t a good enough reason to hurt someone who’s already hurting. I really tried to do the right thing, but then you were in the bar, and that guy was hitting on you. The last thing I wanted was you getting taken advantage of by some island rando. I thought I was a better distraction.”
I drop my eyes, unable to meet his gaze right now. “You were an excellent distraction.”
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