“I overheard you, Amelia. I heard you and Blaine talking about the TV show.”
“Oh, you did? Wasn’t that ridiculous? Can you imagine me doing a TV cooking show?”
“Yeah, I can imagine you. You were amazing today. Natural and perfect on camera.”
She had no idea why he seemed so pissed about it. “You’re angry with me. Why?”
“Because this is what you wanted all along. And now the perfect opportunity has fallen in your lap and I didn’t see it coming.”
“Didn’t see what coming? I really wish you’d be more clear, because I’m confused.”
“Oh, you didn’t see it coming? That’s hilarious considering the way you set me up.” The anger coming from his face scared her.
She took a step back. “I never set you up, Flynn, and honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You planned this from the beginning. Be nice to Flynn, let Flynn think you’re vulnerable. Tell him this bullshit story about how broken you are from your past. Then, when he’s totally open with you, when he’s ready to give you everything, that’s when you strike. I’ve never seen anyone manipulate someone so perfectly, Amelia. Did you know about the network showing up or was it just the right opportunity at the right time? How far were you planning to take this? All the way, or were you just planning to string me along, playing the ‘let’s take this slow’ card until the right score came along for you?”
Realization struck, and every word he said to her was like a knife stabbing at her heart. “You think I planned this? That I used you? That my past was a lie?”
“I don’t know. Was it?”
“Of course it wasn’t. I’ve never been anything but honest with you. And the network thing? I don’t know what you thought you heard—”
“I heard and I saw. I heard them offer you a TV show, and then saw you take them into Ken’s office for some privacy. How convenient to strike up a deal with them where I couldn’t see you.”
Wow. He thought she manipulated him, that she used him to advance her career.
She felt sick to her stomach. It was like the past had come back to slap her across the face all over again.
He didn’t trust her.
“No, I took them into Ken’s office because I needed a moment to gather my thoughts. I wanted to make sure I was being polite and professional because your restaurant—your reputation—was on the line. So I wanted to make sure I said all the right things when I turned them down.”
He laughed. “Sure you did. An opportunity like that comes once in a lifetime, Amelia. And I’m supposed to believe someone with your talent is going to turn them down.”
“Yes, you are supposed to believe it, because it’s true. And I did turn them down. Because I thought you knew me. I thought you believed in me. In us. In what we have together. Which is one of the main reasons I did turn them down.”
He didn’t say anything and she knew she wasn’t reaching him. Because he didn’t trust her. It was Frank all over again.
What was it with her and men? Did she have a distrustful face? Did she give off some lying aura?
No. This wasn’t about her. This was not her fault. This was about Flynn.
“You know what? Fine. Believe what you want.” She went and grabbed her purse and car keys. “You know who was the wrong person to trust in someone again? Me. Because I gave my heart to you and you just crushed it under your giant, stupid feet. So maybe I will take that job after all, because I can’t work for someone—I can’t love someone—who has so little faith in what we have.”
“See, I knew it. You are taking the job.”
She was so frustrated right now she wanted to pick up the nearest lamp and throw it at him.
“Go fuck yourself, Flynn.”
She walked out the door, her entire body shaking with rage and hurt and the need to scream into the night. She held it together while she drove home, opened her door and tossed her purse and keys on the sofa. She went into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and a bottle of wine. She poured a glass, went out onto her porch and pulled her phone out of her pocket.
She texted Laura.
Flynn and I broke up. I need you. Stat.
Then she started drinking, forcing back the tears that pricked her eyes.
Because she damn well would not cry over that asshole.
THIRTY-ONE
In game situations, focus was everything.
For this game, Flynn’s focus was shit.
“You’ve missed easy tackles out there,” his coach had told him at halftime. His coach had never lectured him about missing tackles. Flynn was always the leader in tackles on his team.
He needed to pull his head out of his ass or they were going to lose this damn game. They had to win today. They could win today and Flynn knew it. There was no way he was going to be the cause of losing this game.
“Something on your mind?” Mick asked him while they made their way out of the tunnel for the second half.
“Yeah. Woman trouble.”
Mick grimaced. “That’s the worst. We’ll go out after we win this game and you can tell me all about it. In the meantime, get your head in the right place.”
Flynn nodded. “You got it.”
The second half went much better. Flynn put one hundred percent of his focus on obliterating the offensive line. He ended up with two sacks and six tackles.
They won by ten points, because the Sabers offense had fired up hot in the second half. And fortunately, the defense had managed to pull it together. He’d managed to pull it together.