“Angela wasn’t leaving the soda. I honestly don’t even know if she drinks them.” He pulls me over until he stops in front of another, not nearly as nice fridge. “You always had a Diet Coke with you, so I started buying them when I’d go to the store. I keep them in here and then move one into the kitchen before you come over.”

I open my mouth to say something, but for the second time since I arrived, he has rendered me speechless. While I thought he was a jerk who hated me, he was going out of his way to do something nice for me. And he did it without taking any credit. The rules of the universe say that makes the act even kinder.

“It’s not a big deal.” He pulls a Diet Coke out of the fridge and hands it to me. “Like you said, it was pretty evident you worked better with one. I figured it’d be best to just have them on hand, you were mean that day you forgot it. It was self-preservation, re—”

I don’t let him finish.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face to mine. I don’t even try to make it a gentle kiss. I slam my mouth onto his and meet his tongue as we continue our explorations from last night.

“You know . . .” I’m out of breath when we finally separate. “If you aren’t careful, I might start telling people what a thoughtful person you are.”

“You’re the only one who didn’t know.” He winks before holding open the door for me. “The rest of the world loves me . . . well, most of them, at least.”

I know he’s thinking of Glenn Chandler and all of his followers, who are so intent on making their hate for him known. The guilt of the secret I’m hiding from him feels like I swallowed a brick. I have no idea how I’m going to keep this from him.

—

WE’VE JUST SET the charcuterie board on his coffee table when there’s a knock at the door.

Quinton glances at his watch and I try not to stare at his exposed forearm . . . again. “Five on the dot, they’re punctual.”

He walks to the door and I run to the kitchen, pulling out four glasses, quickly filling them up with sparkling water.

“Patricia, Bill, this is Elliot Reed,” Quinton introduces me to the stunning redhead and dapper man next to him. “She’s the one who helped me organize my foundation so I could act on the commotion I caused.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Masterson, it’s so nice to meet you.” I round the island and extend my hand to shake theirs, but I’m immediately wrapped up in Patricia Masterson’s arms.

“Please, call me Patty,” she says.