Chapter Fifteen

Betsy and I arrive at the restaurant at the same time. Tessa texts both of us that she’s running about fifteen minutes late.

I can’t help it. I’m secretly glad because it gives me some time to chat with Betsy alone.

Betsy doesn’t look nearly as eager as I am.

“I talked to Braden,” I say.

She lifts her eyebrows.

“Don’t worry. I kept your name a secret, although I should tell you I did tell Tessa.”

She smiles weakly. “That’s okay. I figured you would. All I know is what Addie told me.”

I nod. “I get that. You did what a friend would. You were trying to help me, to possibly keep me from getting hurt. I appreciate that more than you know.”

“I’d never want to see you get hurt. Our friendship is new, but it means a lot to me.”

I grab my napkin and place it across my lap. “It means a lot to me, too. I just want you to know that I’ve spoken to Braden, and I feel good about our relationship. And also know that, other than to Tessa—and her word is as good as gold—I’ll never say another thing about who told me.”

“I wouldn’t have told you otherwise.”

“I know it was difficult for you to break Addie’s confidence.”

“I almost didn’t,” she says. “But on the off chance that it might be true, I didn’t want you in harm’s way.”

“On the off chance?” I wrinkle my forehead. “So…does that mean part of you thinks Addie is isn’t telling the whole truth?”

“I don’t know.” Betsy shakes her head. “Addie is a spoiled heiress. We both know that. She’s not above lying to get what she wants.”

I draw in a breath. “If Braden dumps me for whatever reason, I’ll live. I’m not Addie.” Though the thought of Braden leaving me makes me want to hurl. “I think Addie might have lied to you.”

“Maybe, if she thinks he crossed her.” Betsy sips her water. “As I told you, she was pretty obsessed with him.”

“Did Addie go into any detail? You know, about what they were doing? What got her shaken up?”

“No. I can’t even imagine what they were into.”

I can. Sort of. Braden likes sex on the darker side. So do I, frankly. I never knew until I met Braden, but it’s been eye-opening. Eye-opening and extremely gratifying.

But Braden is always very careful. He makes sure I give him a verbal consent, and he always asks if I’m comfortable when he binds me.

Of course, whatever happened between him and Addison occurred ten years ago.

Perhaps he wasn’t as careful then.

“Whatever happened between them,” I say, “Braden didn’t harm her.”

“Well,” Betsy says, “you know him better than I do.”

I nod. She’s right. I do.

The only problem is… I didn’t know him ten years ago. But I promised to trust him.

Tessa arrives, the drinks Betsy and I ordered for the three of us follow, and I take a minute to check my phone. It’s barely hanging onto a charge. Uh-oh. I should have plugged it in before I left. Not a great move for someone who hopes to make a living using social media. There’s no indication that Braden saw my text from earlier, and then, as if in response, the phone goes dark and dies.

I half expect Braden to show up at the restaurant to commandeer this dinner as he has others.

He doesn’t, though.

And that starts to bug me.

Will he punish me later? I have no idea, because I have no idea where he is or whether he plans to see me this evening. Since I haven’t heard from him, I make a quick decision.

“I want to join you tonight.”

Tessa swallows a drink of margarita. “At the club?”

“Sure. Why not?”

She laughs. “Because you hate clubbing, Skye.”

“I do, but you’ve been trying for years to get me to go out more often. Why not tonight?”

Tessa smiles. “Why indeed not? We’ll have a blast. Although…”

“What?”

“Betsy and I are meeting Garrett and his friend Peter.”

“That’s okay. I won’t horn in.”

No truer words. I have no desire to be with any man except Braden.

Though I look down at my wardrobe. Skinny jeans, a silk blouse, and wedge sandals. Not really club fare. Tessa is wearing one of her little red numbers, and Betsy is wearing a denim miniskirt and a sequined blouse. A far cry from her normal boho look. Tessa must’ve taken her shopping.

“Never mind. I’m not really dressed for clubbing.”

“Are you kidding? You look fab,” Tessa says. “Besides, you’re not looking to hook up. Just come along for the ride.”

“Okay.”

Why not? Braden doesn’t control me, as much as he likes to think he does. Four hours have passed since I sent the text, and my phone’s dead. Time to take a stand.

Besides, if I post on Instagram where I am, Braden may show up and take over the evening again, like he did at the MADD Gala.

Apprehension inches up my spine. Do I truly want to do this? I can easily borrow a charger to get me through the next few hours. My phone is my lifeline as a budding influencer. Also my line to Braden.

Take a stand, Skye.

No, Skye, don’t. You know you want him to control you.

What the fuck? Ambivalence coils inside me, but I know what I need to do.

I shove the dead phone to the bottom of my purse just as our food arrives. “Ladies,” I say, “I’m all yours tonight.”