“Um, not with me,” I lied, and I cleared my throat. “I guess I was wondering, is…is there any kind of…reward?”

It was as if I’d just picked up a brick, lifted it into the air, and smashed it into the side of his face.

He froze, his mouth wide open, and all the playfulness that had been in his eyes a moment before disappeared. He looked up to see who was nearby and then lowered his voice again.

“Are you kidding?” he asked. “No, there’s no reward.”

The anger was instant, visceral, and it made me take a step back. He covered it quickly, but I could still see it in his eyes. We stood there for a few moments more.

And then, something changed.

When I first asked the question, it really had just been a question, one that had been brewing in the back of my mind since Vanessa and I stood outside my car and held the phone in our hands.

It stayed there, festering as I walked in the park and shook the hand of his mistress, as I watched him swaying onstage.

But it hadn’t really registered until now as I stood across from him, waiting for him to respond.

I didn’t realize what I was doing until I held his gaze, my breath coming out in short, audible pants, my fists curled up at my side.

I wasn’t asking him.

I was telling him.

I felt it, and I think he felt it too, because I stared at him steadily, and then his eyes narrowed.

“You sure about that?” I asked, feeling more in control of anything than I had in the past twelve months. “The woman you went to meet on Saturday—I’m guessing there are a few pics of her on there that you wouldn’t want anyone to know about.”

His eyes widened, and then he ground his jaw as he stared at me angrily.

“You bitch,” he hissed.

I think he was about to say something else when the woman holding the clipboard suddenly yelled out, “Next!”

I backed up into Vanessa and Jen, and then we were being hurried away.

Ryan stuttered, as if he wanted to stop us, but then he looked out at the crowd of people watching us.

Watching him.

I could still see the fury in his eyes as we were ushered out of the room.

Chapter 9

I settled into the back seat of Vanessa’s car as she pulled into line to leave the parking lot. The cars pointed in every direction, the headlights so bright, it felt like daytime. We inched along, one car at a time, and I was grateful that I was not the one driving. Vanessa was crouched up against the steering wheel, like usual, squinting at the back of the red SUV she was tailing.