“So I am not having this conversation midpiss.”

He marches back out and slams the door.

Fuck my life. I don’t need this bullshit. It’s not even 6:00 a.m. yet. I take my time, trying to calm down my temper.

This is all new for him, I remind myself. He doesn’t know how to handle jealousy. Be patient.

Okay . . .

This is fine. I can handle this . . . keep calm.

I wash my hands and walk out to see the bedroom spotless and the bed made.

He’s like a fucking drill sergeant.

I hear something bang downstairs in the kitchen, and I put my robe on and walk downstairs to see him making a protein shake with his back to me.

I put my arms around him from behind. “Okay.” I kiss his shoulder.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I won’t have lunch with him. I will come and have lunch with you instead.”

He turns in my arms and looks down at me. I kiss his lips. “After I tell him in person, over a cup of coffee.”

He opens his mouth, and I put my finger over his lips. “Henley. This is nonnegotiable. He has been a friend and my interior designer. I am telling him in person.”

He twists his lips, and I know he’s trying his hardest not to react.

“A quick ten-minute cup of coffee, and then I come and have lunch with you.” I smile up at him. “I owe him this much. He likes me.”

“I know he fucking likes you.”

“But that’s too bad, because I love you.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to.” I kiss him softly. “But you do need to understand.”

He exhales heavily and unwraps my arms from around his waist. “I have to go.”

“Okay.”

He holds his protein shake in his hand and stares at me as if contemplating his next sentence.

“Do I get an I love you this morning?” I smile teasingly.

“When you get to my office and it’s done, you will.”

“We need some time alone. Can we go on our vacation?”

“I have a million things on.”

“Hmm.” I try to sweeten the deal. “A week in the sun and the ocean with me in a string bikini, my big buff boyfriend rubbing suntan oil all over my body. Making love on the beach under the moonlight.”

“Sounds terrible.” A trace of a smile crosses his face, and I know our fight is over.

I smile and kiss him. “So can we?” I really want to reset away from here and all our crappy memories.

“When do you want to go?” he asks.

“Next week?”

“Next week?” he gasps. “I can’t pack up and go away in a week.”

“Why not? Aren’t you the boss?” I smile hopefully. “If I can organize someone to cover my shifts next week and Chloe can look after Barry and check on your dad, can we go?”

He exhales heavily.

“Chloe is a nurse. She can check on your dad every day. She will call us immediately if you are needed here, and we can come straight home.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“So . . . I’m taking that as a yes. I’m an optimist, you know.”

He rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Juliet.”

I grab the lapels of his suit and pull him to me. “Goodbye, my grumpy, hot boyfriend.”

He screws up his face in disgust. “I don’t like that term.”

“Grumpy?”

“Boyfriend.”

I giggle. “Hurry up and marry me, then, so you can be my mister.”

His face falls.

“Joking!” I laugh at his horror. “Relax, it was a joke.”

“Not a funny one, Juliet.”

“Yeesh . . .”

He walks to the door and looks back at Barry and me. “You need to wash the coffee cups before you leave.”

I widen my eyes and point to the door. “Go to work.”

I sit in the café with my heart in my throat. I feel like shit. This is not Joel’s fault. This is a circumstance of very bad timing. Joel comes into view, and he waves and smiles when he sees me. “Hi.” He bends and kisses my cheek.

I’m an asshole.

“Hello.” He smiles as he falls into the chair opposite me.

“I already ordered us coffee.” I shrug. “Hope that’s okay.”

“Sure, coffee before lunch. I’m down.”

I stare at him. There’s no easy way to say this. “I’m sorry for Saturday, Joel,” I say softly.

“Me too.”

I try to explain. “It was the worst timing.”

“It wasn’t bad timing,” he huffs. “He knew exactly what he was doing.”

“What?”

“He’s had you on ice the entire fucking time he’s lived next door, Juliet, and as soon as you meet someone else, he comes in like a spoiled child wanting his toy back.”

“Oh,” I reply, surprised by his venom. I wasn’t expecting this reaction.

“So . . . let me guess,” he says sarcastically. “You organize a date with me, and suddenly he realizes that you are the one for him, and he’s miraculously over his commitment issues, and now thinks he’s in love with you . . . but he didn’t say it straight out; it was in a roundabout way.”

I frown.

“How am I going with my prediction?”

Surprisingly fucking accurate.

“You don’t need to be like this.”

“But I do, because you’re being an idiot and letting him play you like a fiddle.”

I exhale heavily. “I’m in love with him, Joel.”

“Because you have good sex?”

I stare at him as I roll my lips. I’m not even replying to that.

“There’s a lot more to a relationship than sex, Juliet, and if you want a life with someone like that, go ahead.”

I’ve heard enough of this shit.

I throw my napkin onto the table. “Thanks, I will.” I stand. “Goodbye, Joel.” I walk out of the restaurant.

I hope Henley really knows how to decorate fucking houses.

The elevator rises as excitement bubbles in my stomach. I’m on my way up to Henley’s office to have lunch with him. My coffee date with Joel didn’t go as planned, but after calming down a little, I do understand Joel’s disapproval.

I chose Henley, and no matter how sweetly I wrap the delivery, the message is still the same.

The elevator doors open to a large reception area, and I walk in. It’s all modern timber with beautiful apricot marble floors. A huge gold sign is on the back wall.

HENLEY JAMES

ENGINEERING

Oh . . . bougie as fuck.

A lot fancier than I expected.

“Can I help you?” a woman’s voice asks.

I look over and see a gorgeous brunette sitting at a desk: long dark hair and perfect bone structure. “Um, yes. I’m here to see Henley.”

“Are you?” She fakes a smile and looks me up and down. “And what’s your name?”

What’s with the condescending tone, bitch?

“I’m Juliet, Henley’s girlfriend, and you are?” I fire back.

She looks at me, deadpan. “Strange, I’ve never heard of you before.”

“Your name?” I repeat.

“Jenny,” she replies flatly.

Jenny . . . I remember fucking Jenny; she was the witch who blew me off all those years ago. So she’s still around, eh? Nobody told me she also happened to be a bombshell. “Hello, Jenny.” I smile through gritted teeth.