If she was walking away, she’d have to do so face-to-face. No running away! Not this time.
He violated several speeding laws in his haste to drive to her loft and even parked in a red zone when he couldn’t get into the tenant garage.
He heard music from inside before he knocked on the door.
When she didn’t answer, he let himself in.
Shannon was on her hands and knees, her arms reaching out in front of her as she worked a worn spot of the floor with a sponge. The simplicity of what she was doing was lost with the feeling that his world was changing with every breath.
“Hello,” he said from behind.
She jumped, turned his way, and dropped her head. “God, you scared the hell out of me.”
She was beautiful, even with dirt smudged on her forehead. “Sorry. You didn’t answer the door.”
It took her a second to get to her feet. She turned to him, took one step, and then froze. “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong? She couldn’t be that clueless. “You don’t know?”
She blew out a breath. “Hold on.” She moved to the blaring radio and turned it off.
The room plunged into silence.
Shannon looked at him again. Paused. Anything that looked like a smile fell from her face. “You read the papers.”
He nodded. “Yeah. All of them.”
She started to smile and stopped. “You believe ’em.” She wasn’t asking a question.
“Tell me they’re wrong.”
“Of course they’re wrong. How could you think for a minute they weren’t?”
He pulled the picture that was the most convincing out from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Explain this.”
She took the picture from his fingers, handed it back. “Explain what, Victor? That a photographer took a picture, out of context, wrote a bunch of lies, and splattered it everywhere? Is that what you need to hear?”
He ticked off the facts that couldn’t be denied. “You went to a political fundraiser.”
“Lori asked me to go. Reed hates those things.”
“Where Paul was going.”
“I didn’t know he was on the guest list.” She placed both hands on her hips. “As if I need to explain this to you.”
He looked at the photo again, winced at how intimate it appeared. “He’s touching your face, Shannon. Is that photoshopped?”
She turned her back to him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I was telling him goodbye, Victor.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “I thought you did that years ago.”
“Divorce doesn’t always mean you stop caring for someone. He needed to hear it again.”
Victor stood back. “You still love the man.”
“Loved . . . past tense. But if you need me to spell that out for you, maybe I was wrong about us.”
“All this posturing about me taking time to get over Corrie, and it was you needing time to get over Paul.”
Shannon turned in a circle, put space between them. “This is a ridiculous argument.”
“I went to your house.”
“So?” She was pissed. How was she the one upset when it was him getting screwed?
“You threw away my flowers.”
Her jaw dropped. “I thought they were from him.”
It was Victor’s turn to pace the room. “He’s sending you flowers?”
Her hands flew in the air. “You went through my trash?”
“They were on top of your trash.”
She walked past him and to the front door. “Enough. Get out. You either trust me or you don’t. And obviously, you don’t.”
Some of his fire started to turn to smoke. “Shannon . . .”
She shook her head vehemently. “No. Go. I can’t.” She opened the door wide and pushed him through.
When he had to back up to keep the door from slamming in his face, he realized his mistake.
He knocked, heard the click of a lock sliding into place followed by her music being turned on and the volume placed on high.
Shit!
Chapter Thirty-One
Shannon paced the loft, clearly heard Victor trying to talk to her through the door. How could he believe anything the papers said?
When it was obvious that he’d left, she slid down the wall and stared at the bucket and sponge that had occupied her morning.
She’d seriously miscalculated the man, and all for what? She’d promised herself years ago to never let a man make her cry again, and here she was, sitting in the middle of her brand-new loft with tears running down her cheeks.
Runaway emotions were the worst.
Her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen, expecting to see Victor’s image pop up. She’d taken a few snapshots during their time in