The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,129
the answer. I shouldn’t have underestimated Reggie. Nothing is too far if it means getting what he wants. He’d hired a private investigator often enough while we were together to track people who’d wronged him. I wouldn’t be exempt from that just because I’d loved him once.
Andrew’s chest rises and falls as he glares at Reggie. “You’re sick.”
“Maybe, but at least I’m not stupid. Amelia had a whole year to gather evidence against me for the divorce, and what has she got? Nothing.”
“Because I trusted you,” I say, covering my stomach as it drops. Gathering evidence. Reggie has invaded my home—my privacy. And Andrew’s. It didn’t occur to me he’d take it this far. “I never suspected . . .”
“You do anything with those videos,” Andrew says, “and we’ll—”
“What?” Reggie asks. “You can’t touch me. Not physically. Not financially.”
Andrew goes quiet. He can touch Reggie, and do a great deal of bodily damage, but not without serious consequences.
“I know things about you,” I say. “I may not have evidence, but I know things.” His secrets are at least a year old, but he’s been fucking people over all his life. Surely there’s someone with more power than him that he’s pissed off. Reggie opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “Don’t worry—I’m not going to do anything. I’m not going to go to your old clients and tell them they’re knee-deep in an investment scheme or to the FBI to suggest they look a little closer at your taxes. My integrity is more important than revenge. Andrew and I are above your petty threats.”
“You can’t prove any of it,” Reggie says. “But it doesn’t need to come to that anyway, Amelia. You can still fix this. I haven’t done anything permanent. Come back to me, and you can erase the evidence yourself.”
“Fuck off,” Andrew says. “She’d be better off getting wrongfully slandered than entering into another abusive relationship with you.”
“Why don’t you let her answer for herself,” Reggie says, sounding mildly amused. As if he expects me to buckle because of what he’s told me tonight.
“Ignore him,” Andrew says. “He doesn’t have shit.”
I frown at Andrew. “I think he does.”
“Then we’ll fight it, like I said.” He watches me closely, his dark eyebrows gathered, his forehead creased with concern. He truly believes he and I have a chance against Reggie, and he cares enough about me to try. Even if it means putting himself in the middle of it. He’s wrong to think we can take Reggie on, but knowing he’s behind me gives me renewed confidence—in us and in myself.
I turn to Reggie. “You win. Although I guess it really depends how you look at it.” My throat is dry as a desert. I wish I knew in my gut if this was the right decision, but I don’t. All I know is that no business is worth this disillusioned, washed-up asshole’s manipulation. And it’s certainly not worth putting Andrew and Bell in the center of it. “You can have avec.”
Andrew steps closer to me. “Amelia.”
I shake my head, still staring at Reggie. “It’s okay. I’ll start again. I’ll do something bigger and better. Or maybe I won’t. But it’s my choice. I don’t know what you want with a fashion and beauty business—maybe you just need to run it into the ground to feel like a man, or to spite me, and that’s very sad. Take the alimony and the apartment too. I’ll give you everything; I’ll let you keep every cent. You’ll need it when you end up alone, having to live with the person you’ve become.”
Both men’s eyes are on me, and for the first time in a long time, at least where work and Reggie are concerned, a sense of calm settles over me. I loosen my grip, physically, uncurling my fists, and figuratively. I accept defeat. Though I love my business, there are more important things in the world, and part of me sees, like a pinprick of light on a dark horizon, that letting go of something leaves me constantly drained, could be a good thing.
“You’re going to choose a man you’ve known for weeks over your husband. Your business?” Reggie asks. “Things you’ve invested years of your life in?”
“I’m choosing myself. You may have every material thing that means anything to me, but I’m richer than you’ll ever be.” Andrew’s presence is strong beside me, and I take his hand. “And yes. I choose him too.”