Trust in Advertising - Page 127/147

“Go away.”

The strangled plea knocked the breath out of Vincent. She sounded so lost, so hurt, that for a second he contemplated doing exactly as she asked. Leaving would be the easier thing to do. But that was the coward’s way, and Vincent was done being a coward with his heart. He sensed that he had one chance to make this right with Lexi or he would lose her forever, and that was something he was not willing to risk. With painful slowness, he sat down beside her on the bench and prepared for the pitch of a lifetime.

He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t stand to see the pain in her face or the anger in her eyes, so he sat silently beside her, breathing slowly as he looked out over the water and prayed for strength. The reflection of the moon shimmered in the gentle waves of the bay while car lights twinkled in the distance as they traveled over the Golden Gate Bridge. If he hadn’t made such a mess of things, the setting would have been romantic, but under the current circumstances, it was eerie and fragile.

“I—I’m sorry.” Such simple words, ones that couldn’t possibly convey the depths of his sorrow or regret, fell from his lips. All he could do was hold his breath and wait for her reaction. Thousands of thoughts pulsed through his head—explanations, reasons, justifications—things he wanted to blurt out in an attempt to gain her forgiveness, but he realized they were all nothing more than excuses for his horrible behavior, excuses that didn’t fix a damn thing between them. The one thing that could begin to repair this situation was absolute honesty. He owed her that at least, no matter how difficult it was going to be to tell her every detail of his mistakes.

The only sounds that came from Lexi were tiny sniffles. Occasionally she would raise her hand to wipe away a stray tear from her cheek, and the material on her dress would rustle. Other than that, she remained completely silent with her arms folded tightly over her chest, as if he wasn’t even sitting beside her.

“I want to tell you what happened.” The words tentatively slipped out. Vincent kept his head focused forward on the water, but he watched out of the corner of his eye to see if she was getting ready to bolt.

“I can’t,” she shook her head and jutted her chin into the air defiantly. “I can’t talk to you right now. I won’t.”

Vincent braved a glance in her direction, and it nearly stopped his heart. Her eyes were dead, flat, and unrecognizable. Her cheeks glistened with the moisture from the thousands of tears she must have already shed. Her chin and lower lip quivered as she struggled to keep from sobbing.

Keeping his movements smooth and slow to not spook her, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. When he offered it to her, his hand shook.

With her eyes fixed on her lap, Lexi unfolded one of her arms and tentatively reached for the handkerchief, taking great care to not touch Vincent in any way. She took the square and pressed it to her cheek, her head shaking gently from side to side in the darkness.

“I know you don’t want to talk.” Vincent chose his words carefully, not wanting to do anything to upset her further. “But would you agree to just listen for a little bit?”

Vincent counted seventeen chirps from the crickets around them before her shoulder raised and lowered in a shrug of indifference, seventeen long painful chirps before he finally allowed himself to exhale in relief. She had given him his chance, and now he had an unknown amount of time in which to explain his actions.

Proceeding with great caution, he began. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for doubting you. I believe you. I know you’re not the mole and that you’d never do that to me.”

Her only reaction was to wipe away a falling tear. Another trailed close behind it down the apple of her cheek, followed soon by another as her crying picked up again.

“I was wrong. I let my own issues cloud my judgment, and I reacted like an angry child in the middle of a tantrum. I saw you earlier tonight talking with Reid. He looked,” Vincent paused, trying to think of the right word, “pleased with himself as he walked away. I didn’t like seeing him, huddled in a private corner of the room with you, touching you. I’m not proud, but it made me incredibly jealous.” He worked very hard to keep his voice calm, even though as he spoke he pictured Reid’s fingers gliding down Lexi’s arm, and he wanted to punch something.

“He propositioned me again.” Lexi’s voice was barely above a whisper, strangled by her sadness but still full of anger. “And for the record, I said no again.”

Vincent’s heart broke. “I know you did, sweetheart. I know. This was all me. I acted like a monster. I let my past screw up everything I have in the present and possibly my future. I was stupid and hurtful. There’s no reason you should pay for my previous or current mistakes with women. With Jade—”

“I’m not her.” Lexi wouldn’t even allow Jade’s name to come out of her mouth.

“You’re right. You’re nothing like her. You are kind and good, beautiful, intelligent, witty, and a light to everyone you’re around. She’s a parasite, a user, a manipulator, and a liar. You two are worlds apart and, frankly, I can’t believe that someone as wonderful as you would even give a man like me the time of day. I’m a grumpy, suspicious, cold-hearted bastard, and if I were you I would have told me to take a hike a long time ago.”

“Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind.” Lexi’s despondent eyes stayed fixed on the water in the distance. “I’m considering it right now, as a matter of fact.”

A hair blew across her cheek, and Vincent instinctively reached out to tuck it behind her ear, but stopped short when Lexi flinched as his hand approached. She turned on him, and he saw the utter rage in her eyes. His hand froze mid air then limply fell back.

In the past when Vincent had hurt her feelings, she came at him with such vengeance, happily putting him in his place and telling him to go to hell.

But now, her answers and comments were so brief, so clipped. It terrified him. It was as if she didn’t care anymore, like she had already made up her mind that she was done with him. Forever.

Panic set in and he started rambling, hoping that something he said might make her stay or at least listen a little longer until he could form a coherent thought. “The truth is, my track record with women sucks. It has since high school. You know about Jennifer and how that ended. With Adria it was more of the same thing, times ten. Of course, she brought the business into it, playing me so she could get stature and success in the company before she left and took a ton of clients with her. She was conniving from the moment we met in college, and I should have known better.