His response came ten minutes later. I thought I could do exclusive. I’m sorry.
I dropped the phone, curled back into the fetal position and cried myself to sleep.
“You look … like shit,” Sadie says, sliding me a cup of coffee.
“Good morning to you too.” I skipped the mirror after the shower. But I don’t need my reflection to confirm what I look like … I feel it inside of me.
“Sad because you’re leaving one god behind to run off to a tropical island with another god?” She eyes me over her mug as she sips her coffee.
I stutter to say the words. “Cooper is sleeping with Tatiana Laroix.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He wasn’t answering my texts all day, so I went over there last night.” I make a sound that’s close to a laugh, even though it isn’t funny. “I was worried something happened to him. Tatiana answered the door.”
“Maybe she was there on business.”
“She told me he was in the shower and she was about to join him.”
Sadie’s eyes bulge, then she does what I did half the night after I left … she grasps at straws. “Maybe she was lying. You told me yourself the woman was trying to dig her claws into him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, he’s got it bad.”
“I texted him at three in the morning.”
“And.”
I slide my phone over to her. Her eyes go wide. “There has to be a mistake.”
“What part of ‘I’m sorry. I thought I could do exclusive’ do you think I’m misinterpreting?”
Sadie sighs. Her shoulders slump, her posture looks every bit as dejected as I feel. “I’m sorry, Kate. I just … I thought he was different.”
“So did I.” A tear slips from the corner of my eye and streaks down my puffy face.
Seeing me cry, Sadie’s face reflects the pain I feel inside. “I want to rip his balls off.”
I swallow back sadness and allow anger to seep through in its place. “Could you bring them to me on a silver platter when you do that?”
“You got it. But you know what we need to do today, right?”
“Pack? My flight is tonight.”
“Absolutely not. We need to go get makeovers.”
“I’m not really in the mood.” The mope in my voice depresses even me to hear.
“That’s exactly why we need to do it.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Pffstt.” She waves her hand. “I make the rules.”
“Don’t the partners whose names are on the letterhead make the rules?”
She winks. “I just let them think that.”
We spend the next few hours at the salon. Sadie insisted I get the deluxe package, threatening the poor girl at the front desk if she didn’t accept her credit card over mine. Everything I chose, Sadie overruled. I asked for a French manicure, Sadie made the girl paint them bright pink, saying it was more island appropriate. I told the hair stylist to give me a trim. I wound up with four inches cut and bold highlights, a heavy streak of blond brightly contrasting with my tanned skin.
I said regular bikini wax, Sadie demanded Brazilian … we settled somewhere in the middle on French. Pretty much the only thing we didn’t argue over was the shape of my eyebrows. In the end, I have to admit, Sadie was right. Although I still felt like shit, the primping and pampering made me look good on the outside, which raised my spirits somewhat.
It’s nearly four o’clock when we finish. I study my reflection in the mirror as Sadie goes around and tips the dozen people who worked their magic on us. They really did do a remarkable job. The makeup artist even managed to bring the swelling down under my eyes and hide the dark circles.
“Looking good is the second best revenge after a breakup,” Sadie says as she comes up behind me, admiring my new appearance.
“Should I bother asking?”
“Fucking a hot rockstar.”
I smile and shake my head as we exit onto the street. “I’m not sleeping with Flynn.”
“Why not? It might make you feel better. I know it would make me feel better to fuck him.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“I hate Cooper right now. But I’m also in love with him.” I finally admit it out loud. Figures it takes me until after he breaks my heart to come clean with myself.
“I know.” Putting her usual sarcasm aside, my best friend takes my hand in hers as we walk. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”
“Thank you.”
“But you know the old saying. When life hands you lemons, grab the salt and tequila.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘make lemonade.’ But I get the idea.” I bump shoulders with her.
“Seriously. Turn this into something positive. Remember the reason you agreed to do the show to begin with. I’ve been watching you walk around silently blaming yourself for something you had no control over for years, Kate. I can’t even imagine what it will do to you if your mom loses the house and Kyle has to stop his therapy. The grand-prize money won’t just help them. It will go a long way to make life easier for you to go back to living. Focus on winning. Don’t let Cooper take that from you too.”
The stretch limousine waits ten minutes while I finish packing. Between my jumbled mind and fragile emotional state, I’m not even sure what the heck is in the sixty-pound suitcase.