I’m so anxious to be out of my apartment that I go down to the lobby fifteen minutes early, only to realize instantly that it’s a mistake to leave myself so exposed. Carolyn could show up at any minute, and then what?

It’s the billion-dollar question.

I haven’t been able to sleep since Tuesday. I toss and turn all night, and when I do slip into a dream, it stars Carolyn. Sometimes I dream of turning my back on her. Sometimes I dream of fucking her. It all hurts the same.

But I’m determined not to let this pin me down in the apartment and lose myself in reality TV. I don’t know what makes me feel so certain of it, but….

It’s Carolyn, the voice in the back of my head says, with a tinge of sadness. You saw her resilience after the boutique was robbed. You saw her kindness even when it meant that she wouldn’t get to spend time with you. If she can keep moving forward, so can you.

I swallow hard and stare out the lobby windows to the street outside.

The moments crawl by, until at last I see Eli’s driver emerge from a town car at the curb. I shove open the door to the outside and take a deep breath of the crisp fall air. At least the darkness gives me some cover if she’s out here walking down the sidewalk or something.

I slide into the back next to Eli, who puts his hand out to shake it with a familiar grin. “What’s up?”

“Starving.”

“Let’s go.”

His driver shuts the door behind me and comes back around to the front of the car, and soon he’s guiding it smoothly into traffic. I should have brought Noah along so this guy can get some dinner, too. Uh—no. Where the hell is that coming from? It’s not on my agenda to do matchmaking for people’s personal assistants and drivers.

Ten minutes later, he lets us out in front of the Pearl, a club that I’ve been to more than once in the past. They have the best steaks in New York City. When we step out onto the sidewalk, I get a big whiff of perfectly seared steak and my stomach growls.

Which reminds me—I haven’t been eating well, either.

No surprises there.

Eli has reserved us a private booth near the back, which is fine with me. The fewer people I see, the better. I do want to ask him if he knows any available women, but I’m not going to take the chance of running into the next Carolyn by sitting right in the middle of what is still a very fine establishment.

The uniformed waiter flits by the table, pouring water, delivering drinks, and we chat about nothing at all until our plates are set before us.

My mouth waters.

There are two filets in front of me, prime beef and absurdly expensive. They’re exquisitely plated near mashed potatoes that are light as a cloud and seasonal vegetables dripping with butter.

This is going to be amazing.

“Damn,” Eli says under his breath, and for several minutes there’s silence while we eat.

I’m starting to feel like myself—a little less insane, a little less broken—when he swallows a bite of steak, sips from his water glass, and starts a new conversation entirely.

“So, what’s the story with you and Carolyn?”

Her name knocks the wind out of me.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you know anyone who’s available.” My voice is strained, tight, and Eli looks at me with one eyebrow arched.

“You and C are done with? I thought—you guys have left a couple times from the Swan, so I thought—”

“We’re over.” I give my voice an edge to warn him that this isn’t a good topic of conversation, but Eli Pierce doesn’t care about that.

“What happened? Did you get tired of her?”

I stab my fork into the mashed potatoes and take another bite before I answer.

“Not really.”

Eli narrows his eyes. This guy isn’t going to back down.

“She…got a little too involved in my personal life.”

“How’s that?”

“By hiring a private investigator.”

Eli laughs out loud. “What?”

“She wanted to know more about some rumors that have been going around the city since I’ve been back.”

“That stuff about you and your—” His grin disappears, and he presses his lips together. “You and your wife?”

I nod.

“I’m sorry about that, man. I heard something, but you never know what’s true.”

“Well, Carolyn was profiting off it. Quite well, from what I understand.”

“Profiting?”

“Do you not know about the website she runs? Some gossip site?”

Eli looks at me blankly, then something dawns in his expression. “No, she never said anything to me directly, but now that I think about it, there were…hints. I heard about it from a couple of other people, but I never put two and two together until now.” He shakes his head. “That doesn’t seem like her.”

“Well, it is like her.”

He blows out a breath through his lips, then cuts off another bite of steak. “Must have to do with that Drake guy. Back in college. And then there was the next one. Will? I can’t remember. Screwed her over. Cheating. Pictures online. It was bad. She was—she was a mess.”

“And that explains a gossip site how?”

He takes in another deep breath. “Well, if I know Carolyn—and I do—she’s probably trying to make something good out of all the assholes that made her life miserable. I honestly think—” He takes a sip of his wine. “I honestly think you’re the first guy she’s dated in a while who hasn’t cheated on her.”

“Who would cheat on Carolyn Banks?”

“Exactly.”

There’s another silence, and the ice around my heart starts to chip and break. Maybe it was a kindness originally, but it must have gone wrong.

Can I blame her for that?

Can I forgive her?

“You sure it’s over?” Eli is poised with another bite of steak.

I look him right in the eye. “No.”