The next days passed in a blur.

Ryder didn’t call.

Leo had argued with her as she’d convinced him to take her back to New York, but he couldn’t make her budge. She’d done the right thing, saved them both hurt.

She wasn’t a coward. Ryder was wrong.

The first night she’d barely slept, her pillow sodden with tears as she’d sobbed until she thought she would be sick. Flashes of Ryder’s face whirled around her like a carousel until she was dizzy with him. But she held firm.

She’d done the right thing.

Quentin and Max had flocked around her, each giving their own specific pep talks, trying to talk her off the Aunt Mabel’s cookie ledge (which hadn’t worked; she must’ve eaten six packets by now). She’d even broken contract and admitted in a dead voice how Ryder and she had really got going, how she’d really earned her wish. Let WFY sue her. Like she gave much of a damn.

Her friends hadn’t said anything, just hushed her, hugged her, and told her everything was going to be all right. She knew they were worried about how lackluster she was, but she couldn’t drum up enthusiasm right now for anything but work.

The papers were the worst bit. Headlines screamed about the obvious split, speculating wildly about the cause. It ranged from Hailey being a workaholic, to Ryder being a workaholic, to Ryder cheating on her, to Hailey cheating on Ryder with his brother—that one had been Genie Gossip’s, a little bitter because they’d never got an exclusive. Some reporters had even staked out her workplace, cameras thrust in her face every time she came and went.

The only funny bit was when Max asked which orifice the reporter would like his microphone shoved into.

Ryder seemingly had no comment, like her, except for his one appearance on Lisette’s Hour. Hailey had caught a clip of it, drinking in his face, those brown eyes now dull, his mouth permanently flat.

“Give us the inside scoop,” Lisette had said coyly, her cards in her hands, that stupid silver anklet glinting under the studio lights. “What really happened with you and Hailey? It seemed like you were a match.”

“We wanted different things.” His voice had been as lifeless as his eyes, implacable even as Lisette attempted to pry more out of him.

As soon as the interview had aired, her dad had flown up from Florida, where he was based. It was the only time she’d let herself cry after the first night, curled up on her couch in her dad’s arms, various threats to Ryder’s body parts rumbling in her ear. He’d stayed two nights before her mom had convinced him that Hailey could cope, leaving with big hugs and promises they would come back if she needed them.

She threw herself into work, into Ethan’s wedding. Strange to think how once it had brought angry tears to her eyes and now it was the only thing keeping her going. Not for Ethan or Serena, but out of professional pride. She had this if nothing else, this she was good at.

Their wedding day was spectacular, as she’d always known it would be. She stayed out of sight mostly, dressed in a black pantsuit and low heels, hair pulled out of her face. She was staff and she meant to look like it, having no interest in being recognized as Ryder’s ex.

Max hovered near her side, scowling at any society lady who looked as if she might come over. It was only when she’d left to organize the gift boxes for the guests that Serena struck.

“Hailey!” She swanned over in an ivory stunner of a dress, its back completely lace with a slim skirt and—naturally—Choos the same shade. She air-kissed Hailey’s cheeks. “Why are you hiding? So many of my friends want to meet the planner who designed all of this.” Her cheeks flushed, she looked the essence of bridal beauty.

“It’s your day. You take the compliments.” Hailey stretched her lips into a smile.

Serena’s lips made a moue. “I heard about you and Ryder.” A pat on the shoulder as insincere as the sympathetic smile. “Some things are too good to last. You want to be careful—you keep running them off and you might have to apply to the spinster club.” She laughed and headed off into Ethan’s arms for another dance.

“Vicious bitch,” Quentin muttered as he appeared from the kitchens.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, eyes on the dancing couple.

“For support.” He touched her waist, both facing the dancers. “You know I’m always here.”

Everyone was there for her. Quentin, Max, her parents, Megan, who’d been distraught to hear the news, Kate, who’d she’d met for coffee and who had kindly refrained from saying any words in the I-told-you-so family. Everyone wanted to help.

But they couldn’t. A gaping hole had been torn in her life and stitched up so the pattern didn’t match.

Late at night, when she was alone and the apartment was so quiet she could scream, she’d go over everything, every little detail as if she could prove herself wrong. But she couldn’t. He was wrong.

She’d done the right thing.

* * *

“Hailey. The Duchess requests your presence.” Megan rolled her eyes as she delivered the message.

Hailey glanced up from staring at her computer screen. It took her a moment to focus, as it always seemed to these days. “Okay.”

She trudged to Erica’s office, already knowing what the meeting was about. She’d failed to bring Jax Michaels in, and now she and Ryder were over; it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to deduce she wouldn’t ever be getting that connection.

June fingered the pearl necklace she wore around her spindly neck as Hailey approached.

“She’s not happy with you,” she announced with relish.

“Bite me,” Hailey said. She knocked on the door and let herself in.

Erica was behind her desk, standing, facing the door. Her no-shit expression was firmly on as she waved Hailey silently into a seat.

Hailey sat.

“I don’t know what to say to you, Hailey,” Erica began. She braced her hands on the back of her chair. Her manicure was the lightest shade of pink this week. “I asked you weeks ago to nurture a very important connection. An important connection for you and for this company.”

“I know.”

“But do I have this meeting? No. What I want to know is why?”

Hailey stared hard at the carpet. She was so tired of it all. “I couldn’t ask him. It wasn’t right.”

Erica waved that away with an inelegant snort. “Forget niceties. This business is built on who you know, and everybody expects to be used for their connections. Now, not only do I not have a meeting with Jax Michaels to pitch why my company would serve his bride-to-be the best, you may have irreparably damaged my chances by being linked unfavorably with one of his colleagues.” She raised her chin. “What do you have to say?”

Hailey lifted her gaze to stare Erica dead-on. “I quit.”