Dangerous Exes (Page 53)

“Stalking again?” she said in an annoyed voice.

I leaned back against my car. “You’ve sort of left me no choice.”

Already we were garnering the attention of a few reporters who’d been camped outside the building for the past two hours.

“Ah, so now we’re talking about choices.” She pasted on a fake smile and said through clenched teeth, “Do you really want to go there?”

“I’ll go there all day.” I took a step closer. “I have nothing to hide anymore . . . nothing to lose. I’ve already lost the most important thing of all.”

She snorted. “What, your conscience?”

“My heart,” I whispered, reaching for her face then pulling my hand back at the last minute. “My soul.” Ah, fuck it, I cupped her face with both hands and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “I lost you.”

She didn’t kiss me back but she didn’t slap me either. She jerked away and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Please don’t kiss me.”

“I’ll do anything.” I ignored the way her rejection made my body go numb. “Anything, Isla.”

“You paid someone off,” she said. “The same someone you paid to destroy me, and then you slept with me and kept it from me. What other secrets are you keeping? How can I ever trust you?”

“I let my anger get in the way . . . I let my selfishness take away the most important part of my life—you. Give me a chance to prove myself.”

“You had a chance.”

The reporters were closing in.

I refused to panic.

Instead I fell to my knees and held both of her hands before she could step away from me. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.

“Proposing.”

“You already did that! They’re going to talk, you’ll ruin everything!”

The cameras got closer.

Talking got louder.

“Let them know it was fake.” I locked eyes with her. “Let them ruin me more . . . I don’t care anymore, Isla, if it means I can have you. I love you.”

A tear slid from her cheek onto the concrete.

“I miss us,” I confessed. “I miss your messy baking and the weird dragon bed. I almost lost it when I saw a fucking chicken, Isla, real tears. Gut-wrenching sobs . . . it wasn’t pretty.”

She tried not to smile.

It was like a balm to my soul when she couldn’t manage it.

And when she snorted out a laugh.

I knew I had her. “I just want you to do one thing.”

“Just one?”

“You don’t have to forgive me. But I need you to read this.” I placed a note in her palm. “And if the answer is still yes . . . you’ll know what to do.”

She frowned at our joined hands. I kissed the top of hers and stood just as the first reporter made it to our side.

“What were you just doing, Jessie?” a reporter asked.

“Groveling,” I said honestly. “Never had to do it before, never wanted to, kind of humbling.” I gave her one last look and got in my car.

And it was the vision of a small smile on her lips that gave me hope that maybe Goo-Poh was right, and it wasn’t over.

Chapter Sixty-Two

ISLA

I wasted no time. I locked myself in the bathroom and with shaking hands opened up the letter.

A Target gift card fell onto my lap. I set it aside and started to read the words Jessie clearly handwrote.

Isla,

Since you won’t speak to me, I think this is the only way to get the words out. I met Danica through a mutual friend. It’s true, I hired her to hack your system before I ever really knew what Dirty Exes was—or what it meant to you personally. You see, I had this image of a man-hating company that set out to ruin lives—not save them.

And then I saw your business plan.

And then I read your files.

And then I read your ten-year plan.

And if that wasn’t enough to convince me, I spent more and more time with you. My boring white-and-black life suddenly experienced the equivalent of a rainbow shitting on it.

You’re the rainbow in this scenario, just in case you were confused.

I’m the shit.

But back to Danica. I hadn’t heard from her in a while and I was so consumed with myself—and then so consumed with you—that when I heard you mention her that first night we slept together, I panicked.

We were just getting to know each other.

And I selfishly chose us, chose what was happening over a confession that might separate us forever, like a dumbass.

She refused to return my phone calls, texts, emails. I assumed that she’d taken the money I’d given her and run.

Instead, she threatened Blaire. Her price was two million.

Which I gladly paid.

Because I love you.

Because I’m an idiot and didn’t come to you first and ask if that’s what you really wanted. I just wanted it to go away, I handled it the way the old Jessie would have handled it.

But I was wrong.

I chose to take care of it and then tell you later. I figured I’d be your hero after you slapped me a few times. Instead you found out from someone other than me.

And here we are.

If you take away anything from this note, take away this: I’m sorry. And I love you.

I never knew true pain until you walked out of my life. I’ve never deserved it more, and that’s the hardest part. I can’t argue a case I can’t win. But I can hope that one day you’ll forgive me.

Isla, I want to be with you.

Not just for the news.

Not just to get a stupid nonprofit to look at me twice again.

I want you because I love you.

Because I want to be part of an “us.”

Because I want that us to turn into an even bigger us.

I’m ready for that next step.

Two weeks ago I proposed.

Two weeks ago I fell even harder for the woman I became attracted to over a year ago.

Fall with me?

I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the aisle if you say yes.

Oh, and the Target gift card is for you. Go wild. I may have decorated a few rooms, but I left you the best ones. My only request is this: color.

Make the rooms brighten my life.

Just like you.

I love you,

Jessie

Tears streamed down my cheeks in rapid succession until I couldn’t see the letter anymore.

Someone pounded on the door, then I heard Blaire’s voice. “Isla?”

“What?” I wiped my nose.

“Um, Goo-Poh’s here.”

Oh hell.

“Okay.”

“She wants to know your answer.”

“What?”

“To the letter.” She yelled through the door, “Oh, and she brought your dress, something about you still getting married tomorrow. I told her she was senile and I think she cursed my future children. Can you maybe come out?”

I wiped more tears and laughed, a real laugh, one that felt like a fresh start. One that made me think of Jessie and his damn Target gift card.

I fixed my mascara-streaked cheeks and opened the door just in time for Goo-Poh to continue her tirade around my office.

She brought food.

Shock of the century.

And she was currently holding out chopsticks to Abby, who seemed too petrified to say no.

“Goo-Poh.” I crossed my arms. “Or should I say traitor?”

“I know nothing.” Goo-Poh shrugged. “He is a good strong man, and he’s sorry. I told him if you would not listen to his words in person, he should put them on paper . . .” That was smart. “So your children can see how romantic he is. It shows good fortune.”