The Rebound Guy (5 page)

He captured Nina’s hand and, stepping around her, walked up the steps. Before entering the building, Cortland turned and said, “A piece of advice, Asia. The next time you’re out solving everyone else’s problems, make sure you pay attention to your own. Maybe the next guy will stick around long enough to pay off the engagement ring.”

Asia’s gut twisted at the mention of the ring she’d continued wearing. She pulled it from her finger, preparing to throw it at his retreating back, but then she thought better of it. He’d stiffed her with the bill. She sure as hell wasn’t giving him the ring.

She wrapped her arms around her waist, bending over in pain as she tried to determine whether the last five minutes had really happened, or whether she was in the midst of some horrible nightmare. A chill swept over her, despite the warmth of the humid July night. How could she have been so blind to the fact that the man she’d shared her life with could barely tolerate her?

She felt like a fool. A clueless, humiliated fool.

A kernel of dread sprouted in her stomach at the thought of having to see both Cortland and Nina around the office. How would she bear seeing them together?

Did anyone else know? Was the entire office snickering behind her back because she had been too blind to notice that her fiancé was getting it on with one of his co-workers?

Asia thought back to Cathy Dennison’s peculiar visit the other day, and the kernel of dread blossomed, filling her belly with a sickening numbness.

She drew in several deep breaths, but it felt as if the air wasn’t reaching her brain. She blinked repeatedly, but the people walking along the sidewalk, the cars whizzing by, the pruned trees, the street signs—they all seemed out of focus.

“You are better than this,” Asia said, straightening her spine and lifting her chin in the air. She forced herself to regain control of her emotions. She was not going to lose it, not over him.

It didn’t matter if the entire office knew about his treachery. None of it mattered. Cortland was the one who’d cheated. She refused to feel ashamed when
he
was the one who had done wrong.

Telling herself that she was okay, Asia hailed a cab to take her home.

But as she huddled in the corner of the musty cab, the lights reflecting off the Midtown Manhattan skyscrapers were blurred by the tears that coursed down her face. She attacked her cheeks with angry swipes, furious at the display of weakness.

She did not cry over men. Ever.

Years ago, back when the first man in her life—her own father—had crushed the soul of his entire family by walking out on them, Asia had vowed that she would never allow herself to be hurt like that again.

But this bastard had hurt her. She’d trusted Cortland to be better than this. Asia thought about the guilt she’d felt over missing his dinner, when all this time he’d been cheating on her.

“Bastard,” she whispered.

Her personal cell phone rang, but she ignored it. It was either her mother or India, and she wasn’t fit to talk to either of them right now. Her mother would know something was wrong as soon as she heard her voice. And India...well, she was still on Asia’s shit list for the stunt she’d pulled sending that rebound guy to her office earlier today.

The phone stopped ringing, but started back again a second later.

Rolling her eyes, Asia wiped away the few rogue tears that still managed to escape as she pulled out the phone. It wasn’t her mother or India, it was Rodney’s fiancée.

“Hi Lizzie,” Asia answered.

“Asia, honey. Rodney just called and told me what happened. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, though the hiccup in her voice belied the words.

“I’m so pissed at Rodney for taking him in. I told him to throw Cortland out of that apartment right now.”

Leaning her head against the back seat, Asia let out a tired breath.

“Rodney and Cortland have been friends for more than ten years, Lizzie. He is not going to throw him out, nor should he. Really, I’m fine.” Asia thought about something her sister had said. “Why would I want a guy like that anyway, right?”

“Well, he’s not coming to the wedding.”

“He’s the best man,” Asia pointed out with a soft chuckle, her heart warming at her friend’s indignation on her behalf. “Look, Lizzie, I don’t want what’s happened between me and Cortland to come between you and Rodney.”

“But I want you at my wedding,” Lizzie said. “You...goodness, Asia, you know what you did for me.”

Yes, she knew. She’d saved Lizzie’s career and reputation, cleaning up a scandal that would have ruined her.

“I’ll be at the wedding,” Asia said. “I won’t allow Cortland or his new girlfriend to keep me away.”

“He has a new girlfriend already!” Lizzie screeched.

“Well, I wouldn’t call her
new
exactly. According to him, they’ve been seeing each other for six months.” Which meant Asia would need to get herself tested. She had no idea what nastiness Cortland had brought to their bed. “Now, if you want to tell Rodney that
she
isn’t allowed in his apartment, be my guest.”

Lizzie went on a tear about sleazy women that lasted until the cab pulled up to Asia’s East 24th Street apartment building. The phone still to her ear, she paid the fare and gave Harmon a wave as she entered the lobby.

Once in her apartment, Asia was finally able to get Lizzie off the phone. She emptied out the wine she’d been drinking earlier and poured another glass, filling it nearly to the rim. For a second she contemplated drinking the entire bottle, but she knew better. She could get a call at any moment on her work phone. A written reprimand for showing up drunk at some crisis would not look good in her personnel file.

As she settled on the sofa with her full wineglass, the anger that had engulfed her began to abate, evolving into a contemplative numbness.

She was a jilted woman. Cheated on. Wronged.

“If I wanted to do something really outrageous I could use this as a defense.”

She shook her head, a sad laugh bubbling up from her throat. She had no desire to be the star in an episode of
Snapped
.

Asia tucked her legs underneath her and stared at the spot where Cortland’s 60-inch flat-screen television was once mounted. She’d never liked that enormous television. It had been much too big for an apartment this size. She would find a nice piece of artwork to hang in its place, maybe the painting of Burgundy’s Chateau de Rully she had been eyeing in the SoHo gallery she frequented.

She would also get another chair and new towels for the bathroom, because, yes, the asshole had taken the towels he’d bought. He’d also taken the wines he’d brought back from Tuscany, where he’d gone by himself when an embezzlement scandal had broken with one of Global Partners’ clients, preventing Asia from joining him on the trip that they had planned for months.

A tremor of unease rippled across her skin as she tried to recall if Nina had been around the office during that time.

Had Cortland taken her on
their
trip?

Asia braced herself for another bout of anger at the thought of those two frolicking through the Tuscan countryside, but she couldn’t summon the rage the scenario warranted. What did that say about her if she couldn’t bring herself to care whether Cortland had taken another woman to Italy? How could she have been on the verge of marrying him?

But she knew exactly how she’d allowed herself to settle for him. It was just as she’d told India. Cortland Robinson Stewart III had fit the part. He’d been the perfect guy—handsome, successful, and driven. It had been easy to convince herself that she should share her future with a guy like him.

But she didn’t love him.

Asia pulled in a swift, shaky breath with that admission.

She’d been comfortable with him. She’d felt secure. But, no, what she felt for Cortland was not love. She never experienced the intense desire that seemed to radiate between Lizzie and Rodney when they were together. Asia had assured herself that she was okay with that. She didn’t need to feel those things. But, apparently, Cortland did. Perhaps that’s what Nina provided.

Asia drank more wine, tipping her head back and nearly draining the glass.

Cortland hadn’t been willing to settle, so why should she? Maybe she
was
lucky. Maybe his leaving was the best thing that could have happened to her.

But it didn’t change the fact that he’d humiliated her. And hurt her. Purposely. He’d been unconscionably cruel this evening, throwing his girlfriend in her face, criticizing her skills in the bedroom. As if he was Casanova’s second cousin. How many times had she been left to finish on her own what he had failed to accomplish?

“Too damn many times,” Asia bit out.

Her pride felt as if it had gone ten rounds in a boxing ring, but she refused to allow Cortland to completely annihilate her self-confidence. She wanted—no, she
needed
—to show him that she was not the cold, unfeeling robot he’d described. She would show him that she could entice
and
keep a man.

“Even if I have to hire him.”

Asia drained the rest of the wine from the glass, then pushed up from the sofa and went into the kitchen, grabbing her purse from where she’d set it on the counter. She pulled out her wallet and spotted the black business card tucked behind a stack of twenties.

She’d initially tossed out the card Dexter Bryant had set on her credenza, but, for a reason she had been too ashamed to explore at the moment, she’d fished it out of the garbage and slipped it into her wallet.

She grabbed the Sauvignon Blanc and climbed back up the stairs that led from the kitchen to the living room. She sat on the sofa and stared at the card, studying the silver imprint standing in stark relief on the black background. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she took a fortifying gulp straight from the bottle and dialed the number.

Chapter Four

Dexter gazed out of the large window of the coffee shop, watching the men and women in their business suits hustle to their next high-powered sales meeting, or analyst meeting, or whatever kind of meetings were filling up their schedules. He hardly thought back to the days when he was one of them. Even though it had only been two years, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

A twinge of bitterness pinched his chest, but he dismissed it.

Dex peered down at the pressed khakis and button-down he’d opted for today. He’d included a tie, but left the jacket at home. He could choose not to wear a monkey suit. They couldn’t. He would be a fool to want to trade places with the people hurrying along the sidewalk.

Surveying the stream of customers waiting impatiently in line for their caffeine fix, he checked his watch, wondering whether Asia had decided against this meeting.

He’d nearly dropped his phone when he’d answered it last night and heard her cool, subtly authoritative voice on the other end of the line, requesting a meeting with him as soon as possible. Dex was still questioning the wisdom of agreeing to it. Even though he was between clients right now, he didn’t need the headache of dealing with someone who was likely still dawdling around in Denial Land.

He had enough on his plate dealing with the problem of Niecy’s back mortgage payments. On top of that, he was still trying to figure out what to make of the comments that Alena’s “Rebound Guy” blog post continued to garner. It was clear that he had a long way to go in convincing people that his brand of providing relationship advice was a valid business model.

But something in Asia’s voice last night had needled him. He’d heard a barely discernible tremble that had conflicted with the direct, self-assured woman who’d ordered him out of her office a week ago. He wanted to know just what her deal was.

Dex glanced at his watch again. She was a half-hour late, which, for the kind of woman he’d pegged her to be—a consummate professional who would rather get hit by a speeding car than show up late to an appointment—probably meant she wasn’t showing up at all. Of course, those rigid, professional types usually called if they were going to miss an appointment.

It didn’t matter; she apparently wasn’t coming, and he couldn’t sit here all day. Dex swallowed the last bit of his coffee and rose from the table he’d been lucky enough to score in the crowded coffee house.

He turned for the exit and spotted her.

Asia Carpenter strode toward him with her chin in the air, that overly confident, don’t-give-me-shit-because-you-can’t-handle-what-I’ll-dish-back look about her.

Dex couldn’t ignore the sudden twitch in the area just south of his belt. It was probably just a reflex, he told himself.

She wore a slim, dark blue skirt that stopped several inches above her knees and hugged her slender curves. Her top was sleeveless and silky, cream-colored and lightweight. A thin black belt cinched her waist.

He remained standing as she made her way to his table, the click of her high heels ringing out despite the whistle of the espresso machine and the low murmur of numerous conversations taking place throughout the coffee house.

She stretched her hand out as she approached. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Bryant. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s Dexter, and it’s not a problem.”

Her hand was as soft as he remembered when he’d shaken it last week. Too damn soft.

Dex was itching to sit before that previous twinge in his groin grew into something more, but his Southern upbringing wouldn’t allow him to take his seat until she did.

“May I get you a cup of coffee?” he asked, his deeply instilled manners refusing to let up.

“No, thank you.” She sat with her back to the window. “I’ve had enough today.”

“Long morning at the office?” he asked as he reclaimed the seat he’d occupied for the past half hour.

“Long
week
at the office.” There was a beat of silence before she said, “Mr. Bryant, I would like to hire you.”

Dex’s hand paused in the middle of reaching for his empty coffee cup. His brow lifted a fraction. “Has your relationship status changed since last week?”