“What?”

He nodded, “Yup. Next store we see, I’ll get you some.”

The black jogging pants were almost killing me inside. I flipped down the visor and flinched. My strawberry-blonde hair was curled and unruly. The glossy sheen of my straightened hairdo was long gone. My dark eyes looked haunted and exhausted. I had a full set of Gucci bags under each eye. My skin was lackluster and pale.

“Why are you looking at yourself like that?”

I looked at him, “Oh, just checking the damage.”

“You look fine. You always do.”

I nodded, “Wow, fine. Thank you for that. All my worries have just instantly dissolved with that fine. You, my friend, have always been a wordsmith and an ego booster.”

He narrowed his gaze, “I did go to college. I’m not a tree trunk.”

I smirked, “You played hockey, you’re not fooling me. And you told me I looked like shit, back at the house.”

He laughed, “That was before you showered. You know what I like about you, Jack? Your attitude is just shitty enough that I feel FINE saying you look hot or you look fine. You’re a sexy woman and you know it. I know you—well, better than anyone. No one talks about the fact your dad runs the household, cheats on your mom, and you’re still stuck in that old-boys’ club sort of mentality. Your dad's an asshole. He’d still have black servants if Abe Lincoln hadn’t told him no. Your mom is a doormat and I have always hated that they planned your marriage. You got that subservient look in your eyes now; it never was there before. The years aren’t aging your face, but they’re killing your eyes. Your soul is dying. I’m fucking glad he cheated on you or whatever he did. I’m glad you finally see what a douche Phil is.” His smile was bitter-looking and a bit crazy, “I’ll wager you anything you want, that this is the first crazy thing you’ve done since you and I fell apart. Besides sneaking to my house on Christmas.”

I put my hand out, “You don’t know me so well anymore. Don’t sum me up like that.” I gave him a narrow gaze, “I think things and feel things, but I can't just act them out like you. You’re still such a child. Try being engaged, France. It’s hard work.”

"I did try once, if you will recall." He grabbed my hand, squeezing it, “He never deserved you, and this is your chance to be your own person and run your own life. Fuck them.”

I fought my tears, and instead, gave him a deadly stare, “I have done something crazy and you don’t know about it.”

He rolled his eyes, “What—you been robbing banks on the side?”

I punched his massive arm, “No.”

He laughed, “You have to tell me what it is now.”

I shook my head, “No.” I closed my eyes and fell back to sleep instantly.

He’d driven back roads and through small towns the whole way. So when he entered Atlanta city limits, I was stunned.

“We’re in Georgia?”

He nodded, “You ever been to Georgia?”

I shook my head.

He smiled, “You’re in for a treat.”

He pulled into the Four Seasons and I looked down at my clothes, “Oh God. France, I can’t stay here, looking like this.”

He laughed, “We’ll get a personal shopper to grab you things. These places always have secretarial services. I’ve used it before, on away games.”

I thought for a second, “Okay. I know what I like. That works.” I was excited about getting some things that suited me. I didn’t care if Phil saw where my credit cards were being used. I wasn’t ready to talk to him.

France parked. I pulled my sunglasses on and grabbed my bags from the backseat. He grabbed my bags from the trunk and handed the keys to the valet.

We walked inside. I felt a small sigh of relief, seeing something more my style again. The hotel was lovely.

He rented the rooms while I booked a spa treatment and wrote a list of things I would need from the girl running out for me. She gave me a once-over, but she stopped when she saw France. I looked at the way she smiled at him and rolled my eyes. He did have a way about him that was attractive.

He came over to me and put his hand on the small of my back, “Let’s go.” He led me away before I even got to thank her. A man’s hand at the small of my back was a familiar thing. His hand was more than that. The elevator opened and he led me inside, taking my bags from me.

“Presidential suite, please.”

I shot him a look, “You didn’t get two rooms?”

He shook his head, “Nope.” He led me off the elevator when we got to the nineteenth floor.

I followed him to the door. He opened it and held it open for me. I glared at him.

“What?”

“One room?”

He laughed, “What? We nap in the same car and you always come and sleep at my place. Besides, it’s a suite. It has two bathrooms. The other suites were all booked and all that was left were those regular rooms.” He winked, “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t stayed in a regular room in a long time.”

I scowled, “You eat from gas stations but you’re picky about your sleeping quarters?”

He walked through the sitting room and into the bedroom, “This is pretty nice.” He flopped onto the bed, “You want to sleep on the bed or the pullout couch?”

I looked at the couches, “Same bed—no sexy time, Mike. I mean it.” I took the second key, “I have a spa appointment for ten minutes from now. When the shopper drops my stuff off, can you tip her?”

“Yup.”

“Admit you’re taking advantage and going to try to have sex, at least once.”

He smiled at me, dazzling me with his dark eyes, “Yup.”

I stomped off.

Wednesday Night

The spa, at least, was amazing. Two hours later, I walked out in a robe with a polished and massaged body, fresh-smelling skin, and a glowing face. The facial had been the nicest part. I felt the years and stress melt off.

I had almost frowned when they refused my credit card, stating it was paid for. But I didn’t let him get to me. I took deep breaths and found my Zen.

He was gone when I got back upstairs. I was good with that.

My clothes were laid out on the bed and my makeup and products were placed on the bathroom counter.

I took a shower.

The tears started to leak out again. I closed my eyes, sliding down the marble wall.

“Do you always cry in the shower now? You used to like the shower. What happened to that girl?” he asked from outside the door.

I jumped up, “No. Why are you in here?” The door was glass. I kept my hands over my parts. “Get out!” I couldn’t see him.

“I’m not looking. I just heard you crying and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I slumped back down the wall. His hand slipped inside the shower door. He dropped a pink bikini. “Put it on.”

I scowled, “No. You know I don’t wear pink, anyway.”

“I’m coming in, so you either put it on, or I come in and see you naked. Not like it would be the first time.”

I pulled the bathing suit on with an intense amount of work. Being wet made it harder. He stepped into the shower with swimming shorts on and stood under the water. I backed up and sat on the floor again.

He smiled, “It’s like an adult water park in here.”

I laughed, “Why are you in here?”

He shrugged, “I went and got bathing suits; I figured we could go swimming. The personal shopper was back so I hoped you’d be back soon. I wanted to catch you before your shower.” He grinned, “You look good in pink.”

I snarled at him, “I don’t swim in hotel pools, you know that.”

“Yeah, well I was counting on some things being different.” He sat on the opposite side of the shower, ignoring me, “You okay?”

I shook my head, “No. I feel like an idiot. I don’t think I even care that he screwed someone else. I expected that, if I’m honest with myself. I mean, look at the world we live in. People like us are fucking ridiculous. My parents are insane and his are worse. But I do care that he was living out some sick, twisted fantasy in my bed. I mean come on, get a hotel room and a hooker, just don’t let her wear my shoes. MY FUCKING SHOES! HIM WEARING A FUCKING CAPE! WHAT IS THAT?”

He didn’t say anything. I wasn’t making sense.

I tilted my head back, letting the water fall on the back of my head. “I don’t get why my bed, my shoes.” I was on a roll and the pain in my chest didn’t stop me from saying it, “It’s like I wasn’t enough. He needed more.”

I closed my eyes and let my tears fall off my face with the water from the rainfall showerhead.

“You wanna know what I think?”

I nodded. I didn’t know why, but I did.

“I think you and him haven’t ever been honest with each other. He’s probably into porn and other trashy shit. He’s probably a borderline sex addict and never had a minute to be comfortable with the man he is. He has to live up to the rules of your blue-blood bullshit too. The cape is weird for me. I know you haven't told me the whole story yet, but the cape is freaking me out.”

Was he making excuses for Phil? Had that just happened? I opened my eyes and looked at him with daggers until he opened his mouth again, “And you, you’re so much bigger than the tiny box you’re supposed to fit in. You act like you’re okay being that prissy girl, but I know if given the chance, the girl I used to know is still in there. She’s a little booze-soaked and tired out from the bullshit but she’s there.”

I shook my head, “She’s not.”

He scooted forward, towering over me. He tilted my chin, “What are doing right now?”

I shook my head, “I don’t have a clue.”

He smiled, “You’re hiding. You need to let that girl out, babe. I see what this all is. You knew you needed five days to make it home. But you didn’t need those days to get the courage to say no to your family and him. You did it to get a little break before you go back.” His smile faded and his eyes burned.