Tulum and had attached one to his number . . . only it wasn’t him.
She picked up the call. “What do you want, Paul?”
“Hello, beautiful.”
She scrambled to her feet, turned off the music. “Stop. You have no right to call me that anymore.”
“I want to take you to dinner . . . so we can talk.”
“No. Paul, stop. Okay. Just stop.”
“You saw the papers.”
“Of course I saw the papers. Everyone saw the papers. Which is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
The fact he didn’t immediately deny her accusation told her what she wanted to know.
“I want you back.”
The teeth in the back of her mouth started to strain under the pressure of her clenched jaw. “You need me back. It isn’t the same as want, so be honest with yourself. Your campaign manager is probably waiting for your call to tell him I’m on the hook.”
“You weren’t like this when we were married, Shannon. Victor Brooks isn’t good for you.”
Hearing Victor’s name roll off Paul’s tongue was like ice on a bad tooth. “You know nothing about Victor.”
“He’s a garbage man, Shannon. Takes trash from others and sells it abroad. You deserve better.”
“How dare you.”
“I’m sorry. That was out of line. You belong in cocktail parties and diamonds, the life we had together.”
“Had, Paul. And it was all a facade.”
“You wanted it to last,” he pointed out.
“At one time, yes. But we’ve been over this. I’m finally over you. And if you think selling pictures to the tabloids was the way to win me back, you’d be wrong. All it did was point out the kind of man you are. You used me to get what you wanted the first time. I won’t fall for it a second time.”
“You signed the Alliance contract just like me. Who is the one pretending now?”
“I said goodbye last night. I meant it.”
She heard him take a breath. “Fine.” His voice changed. “What will it take?”
She pinched her brows together. “What do you mean?”
“Six million was your price the last time. How much do you want now? Double?”
The knot in her throat stuck.
“Fifteen?” he asked. “Name your price.”
“You make me sick.”
“Will twenty million make you less ill?”
“Fuck you, Paul.” Any feelings she’d had for the man disappeared with his proposition.
She hung up.
Her phone immediately rang again. This time it was her mother.
“Good Lord, now what?”
Drying her eyes with the back of her hand, she faced her mother’s call because ignoring it would bring twice the pain. “Hello.”
“Shannon, honey, how are you?”
Shannon, honey, was always a bad sign. “I’m fine, Mom. What’s up?”
“I’m calling to make sure we’re still on for your birthday dinner.”
Birthday dinner? Good God, she’d been so busy and preoccupied with the loft, Victor . . . the stitches that still pained her with every step, she’d forgotten about her birthday the next day.
“I don’t know, can we postpone that?”
“I’m not sure how one can postpone their birthdays. If I knew how, I would have years ago.”
Shannon tried to keep the tears from falling. “I’m having a bad week.”
“I can help make it better. Paul called and asked if he could join us.”
Shannon bounced back. “He what? When?”
“He called a couple of hours ago. I saw the paper, honey. I can’t tell you how hopeful your father and I are about a possible reunion. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mom . . . there is no reunion.”
“Paul made it sound as if there was.”
“Paul is full of shit.”
“Shannon!” her mother scolded her.
“No, Mom. Cancel the dinner. I won’t be there. If Paul calls, tell him to revisit our last conversation.”
“Honey, please.”
“Mom . . . listen to me carefully. I love you. I love Dad. Thank you for wanting to celebrate my birthday with me, but not this year. I have other plans.” Like slipping away to sulk in peace.
“I’m so disappointed.”
“I am, too.” And she hung up.
Pent up energy had her scrubbing the floor harder. Calls came through, but she didn’t answer any of them. Victor, Lori, Avery . . . even Trina.
She got the feeling that if she didn’t leave the loft soon, they would all descend upon her like locusts. In the bathroom, she washed her face and swept her hair back into a ponytail. Dark glasses, in case some camera-toting asshole was outside trying to capture more pictures.
In her car, her phone rang again.
Unknown caller.
“Hello!” Her greeting was an accusation. When no one started talking, Shannon’s anger spiked again. Paul would say something. “Hello?”