Set Up in SoHo (The Matchmaker Chronicles) (29 page)

“Well, at least you have Dillon.”

“Big consolation. I mean, he’s great in bed and everything, but he’s hardly the kind of man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. Half the fun was taking him away from Andi.”

“I still think it’s pretty wild that Andi wound up dating your cousin. I mean, that’s a pretty small world even for Manhattan.”

A woman in a black Prada suit walked out of the dining room and I bent to fiddle with my shoe, avoiding any chance of eye contact. My head was pounding, and I knew I should go. But it was like being caught in headlights: You want to run, but you’ve somehow become glued to the spot.

Prada lady turned the corner away from Kitty and Diana, and once she was out of sight I straightened, fighting to control my rioting emotions as I strained to hear the rest of the conversation.

“Actually, turns out it’s not wild at all,” Diana was saying. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It was all planned. A setup. Althea asked Ethan to go out with Andi. She was trying to keep her niece from looking pathetic. As if that were possible. Anyway, after my cousin rescued Andi from the garbage dump, Althea figured why not make the most of the moment. Boost Andi’s ego by making her believe Ethan was interested in her. Isn’t that priceless?”

“So the whole thing was fabricated? And Andi has no idea?”

“None at all.”

“Who told you all this?”

My stomach was churning, the resulting bile rising in my throat, while some disembodied part of my brain warned that it wasn’t the done thing to throw up in the hallway of The Pierre.

“That’s the best part. I got it straight from the horse’s mouth. Althea was discussing it with one of her cronies, and I just happened to overhear. She was crowing about how brilliant she was and how well it was working.”

“Maybe not,” Kitty said. “I saw Andi talking to Dillon earlier. And they looked pretty intense.”

“Oh, please, Dillon isn’t interested in her. Probably still just trying to wheedle his way into getting that stupid dog back. I’m far more interested in my cousin’s antics.”

“So you think Ethan’s just pretending to like her?”

“On some level he probably believes that he cares about her. He’s always picking up strays. But basically, yes. This is just a game. And when Ethan’s tired of it, he’ll toss her aside. He’s done it before. Playing Prince Charming has its limitations. Besides, I’m certain Althea’s promised Ethan something in return for plying his favors, as it were. I’m betting it’s something for Mathias Industries. Althea has a lot of contacts and I suspect she’s privy to a lot of very interesting information. And Ethan will do anything to curry his way into Grandfather’s favor.”

“So are you going to tell Andi?”

“I don’t know. Eventually. But for the moment I’m quite enjoying watching her make a fool of herself.”

There were tears dripping down my nose, and I angrily wiped them away with my hand. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The idea that Althea had asked someone to pretend to like me so I wouldn’t feel as devastated by Dillon’s betrayal—well, there just weren’t words.

It was the ultimate humiliation.

I couldn’t decide who I was angrier with—Althea for setting me up, or Ethan for agreeing to the charade. Just at the moment I hated them both.

Although not as much as I despised Diana Merreck.

“Damn it all to hell,” I whispered, still swiping at tears, praying that The Pierre’s floor would magically open up and swallow me. But of course nothing happened, except Diana and Kitty started walking in my direction.

“Honest to God,” Diana was saying. “I can’t believe she was stupid enough to fall for any of it. She can’t even see when she’s being set up.”

They both laughed and some basic instinct for preservation made me whip around the corner, but not before Diana saw me, her smile laced with malice.

Thinking only of escape, I headed for the staircase leading to the ground floor and the beckoning freedom of Fifth Avenue. My mind was whirling, emotions crescendoing, anger and shame blending together. Diana was right; I’d allowed myself to be duped into believing my meeting Ethan was fated. That we were supposed to be together. And to make matters worse, I’d actually begun to think I might be falling for the man.

Pushing past a tuxedo-clad partygoer, I tried to order my tumbling thoughts. How could Ethan and Althea have done this to me? And how had I not seen it for what it really was?

Althea had known I was going to the park. In fact, I’d specifically mentioned Conservatory Water. Which meant that Ethan had known where to find me. And Althea had probably told him just what to say. She knew how I felt about Dillon’s betrayal. And how much I’d welcomed Ethan’s rescue. God, I’d played right into her hands. It had all been a setup. Nothing but lies and manipulation.

I was halfway down the stairs when I remembered the horde of reporters waiting outside the front door. The last thing I needed was to deal with paparazzi. I stood on the first-floor landing, indecision holding me captive. There was probably a back way out but I didn’t frequent the hotel enough to know where it was. And I wasn’t about to ask; talking to anyone would most likely push me right over the edge.

“Andi?”

I was beginning to hate the sound of my name. I spun around, fighting for composure. “Dillon. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. Diana told me that you overheard her talking about Althea setting you up.”

“So what, you’ve come to rub salt in the wound?” I hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but Dillon wasn’t exactly my idea of a knight-errant.

“No. Of course not. I know how much you hate being manipulated. Especially when it comes to your aunt.”

“Oh, God, Dillon, they’ve made a fool out of me,” I said, still fighting tears. “And now, thanks to Diana, everyone is going to know about it.”

“It isn’t that bad,” he said, his expression contradicting the words.

“It’s horrible and you know it.”

“Well, it’s not good. But it’s also not your fault. And people will see that. Hell, if anything they’ll blame me.” He stared down at his hands, then lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Look, Andi, I know how badly I hurt you, and that you probably don’t think you can trust me. But if it helps at all, I was a complete and total ass. And for what it’s worth, I told Diana to go to hell.”

I gave him a watery smile, feeling like I’d come full circle somehow.

“Come on,” he said, slipping an arm around me, “let’s get you out of here. I know the back way.”

Chapter 23

I woke the next morning to the sound of the downstairs buzzer and the sight of my bra and a man’s tie looped together over the lamp shade: Never a good sign. Especially when the exact details surrounding their removal were a bit hazy.

It had been a late night. A lot of talking and copious amounts of alcohol. I distinctly remember making a third pitcher of vodka tonics and then abandoning the mixers altogether. Dillon and I had talked about us. About life. About Ethan and about Althea.

I’d dodged phone calls from both of them and fielded worried questions from Clinton and Vanessa. Neither of whom had approved of Dillon’s conciliatory visit. But I hadn’t particularly cared. I’d needed comfort and he was offering it.

And apparently, judging from the articles of clothing strewn everywhere, all that comforting had led to a When Harry Met Sally moment. In all honesty, when you’re hurting sometimes any old port will do.

Unfortunately, my memory wasn’t cooperating.

Which isn’t meant to be a diss against Dillon. More an advisory against drinking too much vodka.

Anyway, there you had it.

Not exactly the best ending to what already had been a horrible night.

The buzzer sounded again, and I rolled over to wake Dillon, only to find that he wasn’t there. Which only served to remind me of another morning, another man, and a completely different kind of night.

Damn it all to hell.

I stumbled out of bed, pulled a sheet around me, and screamed “I’m coming” to no one in particular. Bentley poked his head in the bedroom doorway, bright eyes inquisitive. I suspected he’d gotten more than an eyeful last night, but then it wouldn’t have been the first time. And at least I hadn’t dragged home a complete stranger.

I walked into the living room just as Dillon, wearing only his pants, was pulling open the door.

Ethan stood on the other side, his eyebrows registering his surprise with almost comic timing.

Oh, God. I’d walked into the middle of a Noel Coward play.

Only this one wasn’t going to have a happy ending.

“I just came by to see if you were all right,” Ethan said, his icy gaze assessing the situation. “But clearly, you’re fine.”

“Of course she’s not fine,” Dillon said, his voice tight with anger. “Thanks to you, she’s been made a laughingstock. Thank God I found her before the press did.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ethan said, his brows drawing together in confusion.

“You and Althea,” I said. “You set me up. Or are you going to deny it?” I waited, a part of me praying that he’d tell me Diana was a liar.

“How did you find out?”

I felt as if someone had punched me. As if all the air inside me had been sucked out in an instant. And I realized that until just this moment some part of me had actually believed that it wasn’t true.

“Diana,” I whispered, words nearly impossible.

“Goddamn her,” Ethan bellowed, his fists clenching in anger.

“I don’t think you can lay this one at her feet,” I said, my whole body shaking with reaction. “This one is all on you. And Althea. You promised me there were no more secrets. But you lied.”

“Andi, I . . .”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, raising a hand. “Believe me, your cousin has done enough talking for both of you. You deserve each other. And to think that I was actually. . . . So, what did Althea say to convince you to sign on? That poor little Andi was devastated over losing her boyfriend? That you were just the ticket for making her feel all better? Rescue the poor pathetic loser. That must have played to your nobility. Or was Diana right and Althea promised you something in return?”

“Apparently, you’ve got it all figured out,” he said, his eyes cutting from my sheet to Dillon’s bare chest. “I’m sorry to have intruded on your morning.”

He made a little half bow, which only reinforced my feeling that I’d been dropped into the middle of an English farce, and without another word spun on his heels and was gone. I tightened my grip on my sheet and fought the urge to throw up.

“Good riddance,” Dillon said, slamming the door.

“How the hell did he get up here anyway?” I asked, still staring at the door. “Did you buzz him in?”

“Of course not.” He shook his head, heading over to pour himself a cup of coffee. “When I saw it was him, I didn’t answer. He must have followed someone in.”

I nodded, finding speech too difficult. Besides, there wasn’t anything to say, really.

It was over.

Had been last night.

Anything I’d done was only icing on an already top-heavy cake.

But just at the moment, the thought wasn’t comforting.

“You’ve got to go,” I whispered, not certain where the thought had come from, but absolutely sure it was the right one.

“What do you mean?” Dillon frowned, looking—quite fairly— surprised. “Aren’t we going to spend the day together? I thought after last night...”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “There is no ‘after.’ I will always be grateful to you for what you did last night. Rescuing me from what was an indescribably awful situation. But nothing’s changed between us. We’re not a couple, Dillon.”

“But we talked it all through.”

“Maybe we did. To be honest, I don’t remember a lot of it. But standing here—right now—I know that it’s never going to work between us. We just want different things.”

“You want Ethan,” he said, his jaw tightening as he said the name.

“Trust me, that ship has sailed,” I said, meaning every word. It was breaking my heart, but it was the cold hard truth. “This isn’t about Ethan. It’s about you and me. It just isn’t going to work. And you know I’m right.”

“Maybe I do,” he agreed. Almost too easily. “But I do love you. And you should know that—”

“No more words,” I said, hiking up my sheet. “Just go. Please.”

“Right.” He nodded, grabbing his shirt from a chair and heading for the bedroom.

I stood in the same spot, apparently incapable of moving, my mind yelling that I was making a terrible mistake. That Dillon and I had been through too much to simply throw it all away. But the truth was that it’d been thrown away a long time ago. Before Diana. Before Ethan. We’d simply been too stubborn to face the truth.

It was a surprisingly adult moment.

I don’t have them all that often.

And quite honestly, it wasn’t at all enlightening. Just really depressing.

“So,” Dillon said, coming back into the living room, “this is it?”

I nodded, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Thanks again for last night.” I wasn’t completely sure that I meant it. At least the biblical part. But he had come to my rescue when I’d really needed it. And that had to count for something.

“Be happy,” he said.

I didn’t have an answer to that. But then maybe under the circumstances that was for the best. Dillon walked down the hall, looking back once, and then, with a sigh, I closed the door.

Still wrapped in my sheet, I leaned back against the cold metal door, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor, fighting the waves of emotion racking through me. Bentley, sensing my distress, moved into my lap, his head resting on my knee. I let my fingers tangle in the silky softness of his snowy fur.

“So,” I whispered, the tears finally beginning to flow, “it’s just you and me now.”

Self-pity has its limitations, however, and after an hour or so of wallowing, I realized I’d had enough of my own company. And so, after a much-needed shower, I pulled myself together and headed over to Bethany’s. Misery loves company. And her night hadn’t been much better than mine. Although at least she’d managed to avoid going to bed with the wrong man.