A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,100

rubbed her eyes. “I’m not sure. Since the wedding is off and it’s a Saturday I expect I’ll just be packing up the—”

“The wedding is what?” The words flew from her mouth.

“You know, cancelled.” Gia squinted against the light. “Since Con’s brother turned up and all that.”

“What?”

Lizzie stood there blinking. Blood rushed around her brain. “The wedding is off? Said who?”

“Maisie. Well, she told me. I thought it was something you’d all decided. It was Con’s idea to turn the focus of the show to his homecoming. More unusual and better for ratings and all that. You didn’t know?” Gia hitched her towel higher.

Lizzie’s chest heaved as she struggled for breath. Black spots danced in front of her eyes. She wheeled around and headed to her bedroom.

She threw the door open and it slammed against the wall. Con—sprawled on the bed stark naked—didn’t stir.

“Conroy Beale, wake up this instant!”

He grunted and turned over until he was facing away from her.

She stormed into the room, clapped her hand on his arm and shook him.

“Con! Wake up!”

He groaned. Ugh, she could smell alcohol fumes rising off him. “Wake up!”

He rolled onto his back again and held out his arms as if he expected her to fall into them.

As if.

“You called off our wedding?” The screeching sound of her voice bounced off the windows.

That got his eyes open. But sunlight closed them again after a quick squint.

“What?” he croaked. He pulled his arm over his eyes.

“You cancelled our wedding, you bastard!”

He shifted up onto his elbows, squinting at her, one hand shielding his eyes. “Yeah, but… You don’t understand…” he mumbled. Then shook his head as if something heavy was clinging to it. “Ow.”

“I understand only too well, you scheming trickster. You get your big house and all your fancy cars, and now you’re ready to cut me right out of the deal!” Pain shot through her. It was all she could do not to pummel him with her fists.

“No, Lizzie, listen.” He winced, apparently in pain. Good. “You still get your money, all of it, I made a deal with Maisie—”

“You made a deal with Maisie!” The words tore from her throat, raw. “About the money? Everyone knows about this, absolutely everyone except me!”

“No, yes… I can explain—”

“I’ll just bet you can explain! You’ve always got a tall tale to tell—or not tell—when the occasion suits you. Well, I’ve heard enough of your filthy lies! I hate you! I wish I’d never met you and I hope you rot in hell!”

“Lizzie—” He reached out an arm to grab her and missed.

Before she could get suckered into anything by those dangerous dark eyes, she grabbed her wallet off the night table and fled.

Doors opened and faces stared as she thundered down the stairs, tears of rage and pain streaming down her face.

That bastard!

She shoved out the front door and ran to the Jeep, praying the key was in the ignition as usual.

Yes. She started it up, agony searing through her as the engine turned over and the car shuddered to life.

She’d been dreaming about their wedding being the real thing, and he didn’t even want to go through with the fake one! How could he do that to her? After all they’d been through? She let out a low animal sound of anger and despair that fought with the noisy Jeep engine as she burned rubber through that accursed avenue of live oaks.

A thin morning mist still hung around the road, filtering the sun as she pulled onto the main road.

He would never see her again. Of that he could be sure. If he tried, she’d kill him.

The car ate up the road as she tried to shove Con, and everyone she’d ever known, out of her thoughts.

He was just going with the flow to get his money. Stringing her along and sweetening her up. Planning all the while to cut her loose.

And like a complete idiot she’d fallen in love with him all over again.

Houma.

Grey.

Thibodaux.

She sped through strange towns. At first it was all she could do to focus her thoughts enough to stay in lane. But as the sun rose higher and the muggy heat kissed her skin, she started to breathe deeply.

Vacherie.

Sorrento.

Gonzales.

She worked hard to clear her mind. To figure out a strategy before the car ran out of gas and she had to try to get some with a maxed-out credit card.

Next exit Baton Rouge. She’d sell her Bulova watch and rent a motel room, lay low for a