: Chapter 30

“OKAY, THANK YOU, DETECTIVE.”

I throw my cell onto the desk and sink my head into my hands.

Shit.

Fucking shit.

Fucking… fuck… fuck… fuck!

I groan into my hands, screwing my face up.

If I screw my eyes tight enough, maybe this won’t really be happening.

She wouldn’t have deceived me.

Made me fall in love with a lie. Fall for someone who isn’t even fucking real.

Every muscle in my body is heavy. Weighed down like I have boulders tied around my ankles and have been thrown into the Hudson.

Drowning.

Drowning in deceit and lies.

More fucking lies.

Detective Field said Maria just left. The bail went through and now she’s free while they build their case.

Build their case against the woman I love.

Thought I loved.

Fuck it, she’s not even real. Is she?

I have no idea who Maria Taylor is. Maybe that’s not even her real name.

There’s a knock at my door.

“Griffin?”

I sniff as I lift my head up and pull myself together.

“Come in.”

“It’s true, then?” Reed says, after taking one look at my face.

“Seems that way.”

“Fuck.” His eyes widen and he glances down the hallway that leads to my office before coming all the way in and closing the door behind him. “So, the emails, and the—”

“All legitimate.”

He comes and drops into the chair opposite me, leaning back as he rubs a hand around his jaw. “Wow.”

I roll my lips, sucking in a breath as I look at him.

“She must have planned this from the beginning. From the first day she stepped foot into The Songbird, if not before.”

Acid rises in my throat. All those times she was lying to me. All that time she was planning against me behind my back.

Laughing about me behind my back.

“No.” Reed shakes his head. “No, I don’t believe that. This is Maria… I just don’t… you headhunted her, Griff. She didn’t target you. This is…”

Yes.

I headhunted her.

This is on me.

“You know. I thought I was a good judge of character. It’s never let me down once in business. Then I realized. It’s women and my personal life I’ve no control over. First Gwen, now Maria.”

My chest constricts just saying her name.

“I should just turn celibate. Because my dick obviously renders my brain unable to function with any fucking logic!” I clench my hands, relishing the cracks my knuckles make.

“It’s not you, Griff.”

I snort.

“It’s not,” Reed says more forcefully, pinning me with his gaze. “There’s nothing wrong with your judgment. You could never have predicted this would happen.”

“Twice!” I snap. “I’ve been screwed over by someone close to me twice. I thought not knowing for sure who stole the formulations was the worst thing. But it’s not.” I look at the ceiling as my heart races in my chest. “It’s the fucking knowing that hurts most. It’s the knowing that stings like a motherfucker.”

I meet Reed’s gaze, my eyes dry and scratchy from where I’ve rubbed them raw.

“I told her I loved her. Can you believe that? I’m a fucking idiot. And part of me still hopes this isn’t real.”

“Griff. This. Is. Not. On. You. No one could have suspected. God, I thought you were going to marry her!” Reed’s eyes are wide. “I thought she was the one. I really did. Do you think there’s been a mistake? Do you think—”

There’s a glimmer. But I extinguish it. I don’t need false hope.

“No!” I bark, glaring at him as the back of my neck burns. “No mistake, Reed. She set up an offshore account in The Bahamas, for fuck’s sake. It’s like she’s laughing at me. Rubbing in what a fucking idiot I am for crossing that line for the first time with her there. She knew she had me then, playing the innocent.”

Fire licks at my core.

She resisted me until that point. Kept telling me she didn’t mix business with pleasure. Kept me fucking drooling after her like a dog until she had me just where she wanted me.

Hooked.

I played right into her hands. Thinking she was different. That she was strong and determined, but delicate and sweet too.

Delicate like those fucking flowers I’ve been sending her nonstop.

I thought she was everything I have waited my whole life to find.

My Maria.

My lighthouse in a storm.

No.

She is the fucking storm.

“What are you going to do?” Reed leans forward over the desk, scanning my face.

He’s concerned. We’ve known each other for years and he’s rarely seen me lose my shit like this. I don’t mean me being angry. He’s seen that a billion times. I mean the fact that my eyes are as bloodshot as a wasted addict’s right now.

And my heart is hurting.

My fucking heart is heavy in my chest, like a full sponge barely holding on. Water dripping out.

That’s my fucking soul right there. Dripping out and washing away down the drain.

She’s fucking ruined me.

“Move on,” I grunt. “The police are handling it. I’m helping them. And the investigator thinks they’re almost there at gathering the evidence against Gwen. Both will be out of my life for good. Finally.”

Kill two birds with one stone.

“I’ll deal with all this shit and then I’ll get on with work… and employ a male spa manager.” I snort as Reed shakes his head.

“Griff, you don’t have to throw yourself straight back into work. It’s okay if you need time to process this.”

“When did you turn into a therapist?”

Reed holds his hands up. “I’m just saying. You need time to process, that’s all.”

“What I need is the fucking investigator and police to do their jobs.”

End this shit.

As though a higher power has heard me, my email pings. I recognize the sender. It’s from the burner account set up by the PI.

I click on the attachment, loading the first image up to full screen.

“Fuck’s sake!” I hiss. I turn the screen so Reed can see. “You can’t even make out her face!”

I bang my fist on the table.

This day just keeps getting better.

Reed squints at the grainy image of a woman holding a large brown envelope. She’s wearing a baseball cap, so you can’t see her face.

I click through the other images. They’re all the same.

Useless.

“It could be Gwen.” Reed frowns, tilting his head and inspecting the one image that captures her face. But it’s too grainy to make much out at all.

“It could also be fucking Santa Claus as far as proving anything goes!” I click out of the email in disgust. “That could be anyone. I’m no closer to finding out the truth. No closer to fucking anything.”

His hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes. “It’ll happen, Griff. Trust me. The truth always comes out.”

I look into his eyes.

He sounds so certain.

So sure.

I take a deep breath and stand, buttoning up my jacket with one hand.

“In the meantime. It’s business as fucking usual,” I say.

First thing on today’s list—deal with the press camping on the sidewalk since the Josanna story hit. No doubt they’ll all know about Maria and the arrest now.

Fucking brilliant.