Gui
The tear broke me.
I had tried so hard to keep up this I-don’t-fucking-care facade, but in the end, as she left my apartment and glanced one last time at me, a tear rolling down her face, I felt broken. Stupid. Empty. A fucking jerk.
Because that was what I was. A fucking jerk.
The girls cleaned the kitchen while the guys settled down to continue playing, everyone a little quieter than before.
Amanda leaned into me, her hands closing around my arm. “How about you show me your room now?” she said, her voice holding a sensual note.
I stepped back, pulling my arm from her hold. I didn’t want anything to do with her. Even before I had seen the dull glint in Hilary’s face. And that was why I was an even bigger jerk. I had met Amanda a few months ago when I went clubbing with Malcolm, Justin, Reese, and Lucas. We almost hooked up that night, but I didn’t even remember what happened. She went dancing and I found some other girl? It was the most probable outcome. I hadn’t seen her since that night, until I arrived at the airport this afternoon. She was there dropping off her sister, and we started talking, and then before I realized I had invited her over for dinner. For a quick heartbeat, I was mad at myself, but it didn’t last. I was mad and hurt and wanted to make Hilary feel the same. I wanted to make her jealous. I wanted her to feel what it was like when I heard the stories about Reese and her.
I was proud of myself for moving on.
Then Hilary saw Amanda with me. I watched as she broke right before me. That much pain, that much sadness … I didn’t wish it on anyone. Until then, I didn’t really believe she liked me. She couldn’t have meant it. Otherwise, how could she let me go so easily? It hurt like hell to respect her wishes and stay away. How did she do it?
So I pushed it. I went to the dining room with Amanda and let the girl touch me and lean on me as if we were ready to hook up. Inside though, I was disgusted with myself. All the while, Amanda only had ten percent of my attention. The other ninety was on Hilary.
Because of that, I knew Hannah and Hilary had engineered a way for Hilary to get out of the party without questions. I wasn’t sure Hilary had agreed to Hannah’s plan, but it worked. She was out.
And I felt like a fucking jerk.
I sighed. And I was about to be a fucking jerk again.
I crossed my arms. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
Amanda gaped at me. “What?”
“I need you to go. Now.”
She clenched her hands. “You’re fucking kidding me?”
“Nope. Please, leave.” It killed me to say please to her, but I really wanted her to go.
“Jerk!” She tried to punch me, but I deflected.
That got the attention of everyone. The video game was paused again, and the girls had frozen.
Amanda tried hitting me one more time, but I stepped out of the way and pointed to the door. Hissing, she marched away and slammed the door on her way out.
“What was that?” Leo asked.
“Whoa, what did you do this time?” Ri asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I ran a hand through my hair, but unfortunately, that didn’t help with my confusion, with my frustration. It was never that easy.
I wanted to go to my room and punch a wall, but I had asked my family to come celebrate with me. I couldn’t just leave them here. Pushing down the knot in my chest, I sighed and joined the guys in the living room.
“I want to play,” I said, extending my hand to Garrett and Pedro—they were the ones with the joysticks. I wanted to play this game, to spend my built-up energy by killing some villains.
“So moody,” Pedro teased, handing me the joystick.
“Just shut up and watch as I blow your score out of the water,” I said, my voice harsher than I intended. Still a fucking jerk.
The guys exchanged a look, but said nothing. Great, because I wasn’t in the mood to talk. If they tried, they might get my fists in their noses. And right now, I would enjoy it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I parked my car in the studio’s parking lot, checked the mirrors, and looked out for any sign of Mike, or anyone else who could rob me—a habit I had developed since Mike almost killed me in this same spot. When everything looked okay, I exited my car and walked to the studio’s door, my chin high, my eyes half-closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my skin. It was not even nine in the morning on a Monday, and the sun wasn’t already hot. It made me wish for a day on the beach. Or poolside.
I had just stepped inside and greeted Sonya when my phone rang.
I glanced at the screen and frowned. “Hi, Evie. How are you?” I asked, concerned. She rarely called me. I heard a gasp and a sob and stopped dead in my tracks. “Evie? Talk to me.” The hallway leading to the main studio floor and the offices and meeting rooms was empty, so I leaned against the wall and spoke up, “Evie!”
“I-I’m here,” she croaked.
My heart sped up. “What happened?” She let out a whimper. “Where are you?”
She inhaled. “At the c-center.” She took another deep breath. “The nurse here is taking care of me.”
Fear jolted through my chest. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
“O-okay,” she whispered.
I turned off my phone and went straight to Fallon’s office. I would be sorry if I interrupted an important meeting, but this was important to me too. Fallon could fire me if she wanted. There was only two weeks left on this internship anyway. I soon would be back to L.A. and wouldn’t worry about another internship until next summer.
Thankfully, Fallon was alone.
“Hilary, so great to see you.” She smiled at me. “Only two more weeks, huh? I’ll be sad to see you go.”
As much as I wanted to bask in her compliment, I had more urgent matters. “I’ll be sad to go too,” I said. “But I just received a phone call … something urgent came up and I need to leave for the day.”
Her brows furrowed. “What happened? Is it your mother? Your sister?”
I shook my head. “No, they are fine. It’s a friend. She’s in trouble and I need to go see her.”
“All right, I understand.” She spread her hands over the planner on her desk. “Take the day off; it’s no problem. But, if you can, I would like you to come in tomorrow. The wedding clothes are all done, and I would like to take a look at them with you.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be here tomorrow, I promise.”
I left the studio in a hurry. To be honest, I didn’t even know how I drove to the women’s center without getting into an accident, because my mind was elsewhere. My hands shook and my heart beat faster.
At the center, I went to the nurse’s office. The door was closed, so I knocked and waited. Ten seconds later, a woman with a blue uniform opened the door.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, her voice sweet, calming.
“I believe Evangeline is here with you.”
“Hilary?” Evie’s voice came from inside the room.
“Yes,” I answered, loud enough so she would hear me.
“She can come in,” Evie said.
The nurse stepped to the side and let me in, then closed the door again.
My gaze landed on Evie and my heart skipped a beat.
It was as if she had been hit by a truck. Her right eye was swollen shut, a big purpling bruise around it that extended down to her cheek. Her lip was also swollen and split. Her neck had ugly scratch lines and … were those bites?
“What … How …?” I didn’t know what to say, what to ask.
The nurse spoke up. “I wanted to take her to the hospital, but she refuses.”
Evie shook her head. She stopped and closed her eyes, hissing, as if it hurt too much. “I-I won’t go to the hospital.”
She should not only go to the hospital, but also to the police and file a restraining order. This was ridiculous. Mike couldn’t do this to her and get away with it.
>
Rage boiled in me. I wanted to shake her shoulders and demand for her to see reason.
The nurse finished closing a bandage over Evie’s neck. “I’ll give you two a moment to talk.” Then she exited the office, closing the door behind her.
Silence filled the room as I thought over what to say. A tear rolled down Evie’s face, breaking a little more of my beat up heart.
I reached over, taking her hands in mine. Oh my gosh, even her wrists had bruises. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. One more tear fell. “The only thing I want to tell you is that I’m done. I’m done.”
Something like hope pushed against the rage. “You’re done?”
“With him. I’m done.” She stifled a sob. “I’m moving out. I don’t know how, I don’t know exactly when or where I’ll go, but I’m way past done. I’m moving out.”
I wanted to jump and take her into my arms and squeezed her tight, but I was afraid of scaring her and adding to her pain. So I settled for squeezing her hands. “You have no idea how much I love hearing you say that.” I offered her a supportive smile. “I’ll help you with the how, when, and where. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
She tried smiling, but it was forced and only lasted two seconds. “Thanks, Hilary. You’re the best person I know.”
***
I decided to go in an hour early to the studio on Tuesday to compensate for having taken the day off yesterday. My plan was to go in an hour early and leave an hour late every day this week.
The elevator doors opened and I was about to enter, but I saw Gui inside and froze. He stared at me while I stared at him. The doors began closing before I could react. Gui shoved his hand in the way, making the doors open again.
“Are you coming?” he asked, his tone flat.
As if he had slapped me awake, I stepped into the elevator and stood beside him, facing the closed doors.
The elevator started moving down, and the awkwardness reached a new high.
It didn’t help that he wore sweatpants, a T-shirt, and sneakers, with his earphones around his neck. He was either going running or working out.
Inhaling my pride, I decided to be the bigger person here. “How have you been?”
“Bem. E você?”
“Me too,” I answered. Automatic questions and answers.
The doors opened to the first level and Gui walked out. Before the doors closed, he reached out and put his arm in the way, causing them to open again. I had a terrible case of triple deja vu.
“About Amanda,” he started.
I lifted my chin. “I don’t want to know.”
“Nothing happened,” he continued, even after my comment.
“I don’t care,” I insisted.
“But I do,” he groaned. What the hell was that supposed to mean? “Nothing happened. I sent her away right after you left.”
“Okay,” I said, trying not to read between the lines.
He stepped back, taking his arm from the doors. “I just wanted you to know that.”
The doors closed, and I stared at them with my jaw hanging open.
I wanted to yell, what was that supposed to mean?
Instead, I swallowed my comment and, at the underground level, walked to my car as if nothing had happened. Because it didn’t matter if Gui had done something with Amanda; it shouldn’t matter.
On the drive to the studio, I shoved Gui out of my thoughts by focusing on Evie and her situation. I had spent yesterday afternoon looking for a new place for her to live and other necessary things.
The small apartment I had found—far away from Mike’s place—would be available on Thursday. I planned on taking the afternoon off again to help her with the move.
As long as she stuck to our plan, Evie would be okay.
At the studio, I sat down at my desk and my phone rang.
“Hilary speaking,” I answered.
“Good, you’re here,” Fallon said. “Meet me in fitting room three, please.”
She hung up and I trudged to the assigned room. Fallon stood in the middle of the place, admiring the many dresses and tuxedos hanging from poles placed around the room.
She smiled at me. “I wanted to check on these with you, but mainly, I just want to congratulate you on a job well done. These are incredible.”
I blushed. “Thanks.”
“I confess I was a little skeptical when your mother called and asked me to consider you for an internship,” she said. I gaped at her, but, still looking at the dresses, she didn’t acknowledge my shock and went on. “But you surprised me the moment you walked into my office. I loved your portfolio then, and I love it even more now. Keep that up and I’ll hire you to work for me every summer.”
She patted my shoulder and left the room.
My knees weakened and I almost fell on my butt.
My mother did what?
After a long time—I wasn’t aware of the time passing—I sat down on one of the white leather couches in the fitting room and called my mother.
“Good morning, Hilary,” she said, her voice poised and firm as always. “How are you?”
“Not very well since I just found out you asked Fallon White to give me my internship!”
“Well, I asked her to consider you for an internship,” she said matter-of-factly. “She wasn’t obligated to hire you. She started with an interview, didn’t she? She could have said no.”
“An interview on a day you knew I had a test with a lenient professor, who would allow me to take the test another time.”
“I told her when you could be available for an interview, so what?”
I gasped. “You can’t interfere in my life like that.”
“I’m your mother. As long as I live and breathe, I’ll help you, or as you say, interfere in your life, as much as I want. Besides, Fallon called yesterday. She said she’s impressed with you, that she was glad she hired you, and that you will go far. Even if I nudged her to give you this internship, how well you did was all up to you.”
Damn, she was right.
Fallon could have said no after the interview, or she could have hired me, hated me, and fired me in a week. Or she could have said nothing this morning about how well I was doing. Still, it hurt a little knowing my mother had gotten me this internship. How would I be able to look at Fallon again knowing that?
I swallowed my pride. “I won’t say thank you … yet. But you’re right. Fallon could have hated my work and apparently she doesn’t.”
“She loves your work, Hilary.” I didn’t say anything, because I wasn’t ready to thank her yet. I had to get my pride in check first. So, my mother broke the ice. “I’ll see you Sunday for our lunch at the club, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Great. And Hilary?”
“Hm?”
“I’m proud of you.”
A small smile spread across my lips. I could thank her for that. “Thanks.”
***
“So, what do you think?”
Evie stepped into the living room of the small apartment, looking around. “It looks … great.” She offered a small smile. “Better than great.”
Well, I wouldn’t say it was better than great, but I was good for an apartment I whipped up in three days. I scoured the internet on Monday morning, after seeing Evie at the women’s center. I found a few possible options and went to check them out. I chose the nicest, cleanest one—it was small, a living room and an open kitchen with a high counter that served as an eating area, and two small bedrooms and one bathroom. I already signed the documents. The agent said it had never been done so fast, but I was offering to pay six months rent in advance, plus a special fee for how fast he could do it all. Then, in the afternoon, I went furniture shopping. I bought simple things and had them delivered on Wednesday, a couple of hours before some handymen came to assemble everything. Then last night, I went grocery shopping and stocked the kitchen, and, kno
wing she would leave in a hurry with only one or two suitcases, I bought her some new clothes and shoes.
However, in my opinion, the best feature was the distance from Mike’s place: far away.
“It’s a starting point. I know that, with time, you’ll do better.”
She turned to me with tears in her eyes. “You have no idea what this means to me. I can’t even begin to describe it.” She wiped her hands on her cheeks. “It’s amazing, Hilary. You’re amazing.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome.” I sat down on the couch and opened my laptop. “Now let’s go looking for a new job for you.”
She sat down beside me. “My job is fine.” She made a face and I laughed. “Okay, okay. I agree. My job stinks. Let’s look for a new job.”
***
The limo waited in front of the building.
Hannah screamed as we stepped through the front door. She smiled at me, and then ran to the limo. Bia, Gabi, Lauren, and Iris—all dressed in pretty party dresses—were beside the limo, waiting for us. They let Hannah and I enter first, then followed suit.
The seats in the limo were arranged in a rectangle, leaving the middle open, except for a small table where the champagne, the chocolate, and the strawberries lay in pretty crystal vases.
“This is so cool,” Gabi said, reaching for a strawberry.
“Por favor, tell us where we’re going,” Bia asked.
I just shook my head.
Hannah couldn’t sit still. She bounced her legs and looked from side to side, taking in everything.
Lauren grabbed the champagne bottle and popped it open. “How about we bet?”
“Bet what?” Iris asking, holding the crystal flutes for Lauren.
“Where Hilary is taking us,” Lauren said.
“You’ll never guess,” I said, smoothing the flowy skirt of my black dress. I rarely wore only black, and black to a bachelorette party seemed a little depressing, but I thought it was fitting for what I had planned for today.
Bia shot me a fake glare. “Let us try.”
I smiled. “Be my guest.”
They bet on everything possible: stripper club, normal club, hotel room with strippers. There were always strippers in their guesses, but they all got it wrong.
Breaking Through (The Breaking Series Book 3) Page 26