Chapter Twenty Four
I was wearing roses, a summer shift that was nearly see-through, especially when I’m standing in the right light. I was furious with him for making the date without my consent, assuming I’d be there, with no regard for the demands of my job, and for generally haunting me with that grin of his. I thought I was looking at the Cheshire cat, seeing his expression when he laid his “Mrs. Hemmingway,” on me, happy as a clam that he’d discovered my darkest secret. He should have known anyway, but I could count on Scott to keep him uninformed. That was all part of his plan.
With all Bryan’s faults however, I could easily forgive him every one, every shred of cunning, every demanding assumption, every sassy smirk, just for caring enough about me to seek me out. What I couldn’t
