I
’m not proud of looking through Darby’s phone contacts, but I need something I can’t ask her for—answers. Right now, there’s only one person who I know
has them.
“Rachel Hart,” she answers her phone in an exasperated voice.
“How do you know me?”
Her silence confirms my suspicions.
“Who is this?”
“How did we meet?”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Stop lying to me!”
She sighs with impatience. “I met you when my stepdaughter
brought you to dinner.”
“You knew I wouldn’t recognize you, but you were still nervous … that’s
what I recognized.”
“You’re delusional.”
“I fucked you.”
She snickers, unable to hide her nerves. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m a married woman.”
“I love Darby.”
“You don’t know what love is.” The piercing edge to her voice unmasks her façade. “If you have a working cell left in your brain, you’ll walk away and never contact me or Darby ever again.”
“Because I fucked you?”
“Get. This. You pathetic waste of space, I am a self-made woman and I can guarantee you no man has ever fucked
me!” She hangs up.
Just what I was afraid of … she
fucked me
.