Hoax Husband - Candice M. Wright Page 0,43
room that I spot Davis’s tall frame over the crowd, sitting at a small table in the far corner.
I maneuver myself around the crowd of people placing their coffee orders and head over to join Davis. As I draw closer, I see Linda seated with her back to me. She’s hunched over the table, her shoulders slumped in a defeated posture. The fury I had managed to get a handle on while driving over here flares to life once more.
As I approach the table, Davis looks up and nods, but then his eyes go wide when he takes in my face, and I frown. I don’t get to dwell on his bizarre reaction to seeing me, though, because his odd response makes Linda look over her shoulder.
Her whole face lights up as she sees me, a broad smile spreading across her face that falters moments later before disappearing completely. She gasps loud enough for me to hear her, before turning to look out the window, effectively dismissing me.
What the fuck?
“What? Do I have something on my face?” I ask jokingly as I slide into the empty chair beside her.
“I'll just leave you both to it. Call me if I'm needed,” Davis says quietly, standing and leaving as soon as I nod in agreement at him.
“Linda?” I call her name softly when she continues to gaze out the window beside her.
Slowly she turns to face me, and I'm surprised to see her eyes look wet with unshed tears.
“What the hell is going on? Why are you crying?" I respond, reaching for her, but her body locks solid before she yanks herself away.
“You have lipstick on your face,” she whispers angrily, making me frown for a second as I try to make sense of what she's saying.
“That fucking bitch,” I growl as it finally dawns on me what’s wrong. Livid, I grab a napkin off the table and scrub my mouth in disgust. “I realize this looks bad, but when I said I would be faithful to you, I meant it. I'm a lot of things, Skittle, and not all of them are good, but a cheater is not one of them. This is the handiwork of my father's latest vindictive ex-wife,” I admit, having nothing to hide when it comes to Dawn.
Linda is the only woman I want.
Her eyes widen, her expression hurt and confused. She has the worst poker face of anyone I’ve ever met, showing everything she feels completely unguarded. I can see she wants to believe me but is still unsure.
“Dawn is not happy to be yet another in a long line of ex Mrs. Sloans. She thinks the younger Sloan is the way to go.” Not the entire truth but not strictly a lie either.
As much as I want to give her the full story, it would mean admitting what brought me back into her life, and I’m not sure our relationship is strong enough to weather that storm just yet. It’s a double-edged sword because the longer I go without spilling everything to her, the harder it gets.
“I was on my way here and she pounced on me in the elevator. I shoved her away and instructed my staff that she is not to set foot back in my building. If she turns up and causes a scene, I'll have her arrested on the spot for trespassing,” I reassure her.
She stares at me for a long moment before coming to a decision. Slowly, she nods, before taking the napkin from my hands and wiping the space at the side of my mouth I must have missed.
“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” she apologizes quietly.
“No,” I tell her, taking her hand, “this is pretty damning. Thank you for believing me.”
She smiles. It's not her usual blinding one, but I'll take it.
“What brings you here, anyway?” she questions, placing the napkin back on the table and moving the conversation into safer territory.
“A little birdy might have told me that shopping was no fun for you today,” I hedge carefully, unsure how she will react to Davis reporting back to me.
“A little birdy, huh? And does this little birdy's name rhyme with Mavis by any chance?” She shakes her head and laughs softly.
“Maybe, but it doesn't change the fact that something happened today, and you didn’t call me. Tell me what happened.”
She looks away with a sigh until I slide my finger under her jaw and turn her head back to face me.
“Talk to me,” I urge.
“What do you