*Isabella's POV*
The drive back to the mansion was quiet, but not in an awkward way. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that settles after a storm has passed. The sun was setting as we got home, painting the sky in fiery strokes of orange and purple.
"What do you want to do tonight?" he asked as we stepped inside, the air cool and familiar.
"I promised Cole a night out," I said, a nervous flutter in my stomach. I hated having to say it, especially after everything.
"Okay," he said, his voice completely neutral. No anger, no disappointment. Just... okay.
"I'm sorry, I know I just came back, I just need a little..." I was fumbling for the right words, scared he'd think I was rejecting him.
"A little space," he finished for me, a small, knowing smile on his face. He leaned in and planted a soft, gentle kiss on my cheek. "I know."
A wave of relief washed over me, "You're the best," I said, feeling a blush creep up my neck. I turned and practically fled upstairs, needing a moment to process everything.
I took a quick, hot shower, letting the steam calm my frayed nerves. I needed to feel like myself tonight, to have fun with my friend. I stood in front of my closet, my eyes landing on a short, peach-coloured dress that I knew would be perfect. It hugged my curves in all the right places and enhanced my cleavage, making me feel powerful and sexy.
I slipped it on and added a pair of killer red 3-inch heels. I swept half my curly hair up into a messy bun, leaving the rest to cascade down my back in soft ringlets. A light face of makeup, and I took one last look in the mirror.
Damn, I looked good. Satisfied, I grabbed my phone from the bed and dialed Cole's number.
"Hey, bitch!" I shouted when he answered.
"Oh, hi, Miss," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and a whole lot of fucking attitude.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked, laughing. "Be ready, I'm coming to get you in a fancy car, so make sure you look fabulous."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," he spat out.
"What? I thought you said we're having a night out."
"Well, I can't be ready whenever the princess decides to call. I have a life, you know," he said.
"Not really," I shot back. "Come on, it's Saturday night."
"Come back here or I'm leaving," I heard a deep, masculine voice say in the background.
"What was that?" I asked, my interest suddenly piqued.
"Like I said, I have a life," he replied, trying to sound dismissive.
"Was that a man? Who is the hunk? Do I know him?" I was firing off questions when I realised he'd fucking hung up on me. The line went dead.
"Great," I muttered to the empty room. Oh, for fuck's sake. This could only mean one thing. I sighed, picking up my phone to dial a number.
"So we're good enough for you now," she spat out, her voice laced with a venom that took me by surprise. I was sitting across from her at some trendy, overpriced bar.. After Cole had so rudely hung up on me, I wasn't ready to let my killer outfit and perfectly done makeup go to waste. So, I did what any self-respecting woman would do: I called up my old roommates, Jasmine and Vanessa. Big fucking mistake.
Jasmine was glaring at me, her eyes narrowed. "I mean, sure the walls were thin and I like to keep my girlfriend satisfied," she said, her voice dripping with a sarcasm so thick you could choke on it. "Was that a good enough reason to leave us and ghost us?" She leaned forward, her anger a tangible force across the bar.
I let out a long, weary sigh. "That's not why I left and you know it," I said, rubbing my temples. This was the last fucking thing I needed tonight. "Also, it's all in the past now," I added, trying to inject some brightness into my voice. "Plus, I remember you two throwing the best parties ever. Let's have some fun," I said, raising my glass in a pathetic attempt at a toast.
"Yeah, fun," she said flatly, taking a long sip of her cocktail, her eyes never leaving mine.
"Leave her alone, baby," Vanessa interjected, her voice a smooth, mummering contrast to Jasmine's sharp edges. "She was busy. Weren't you, girl? Tell us everything." She gave me a knowing smirk that made me shift uncomfortably on my barstool.
"Like she'd want to admit she's been banging her boss," Jasmine said, rolling her eye.
"I've been what?" I exclaimed, my voice a little too loud. A few people at the bar glanced over. Great.
"He isn't her boss, baby. Fuck, you're so fucking clueless," Vanessa sighed, shaking her head at Jasmine like she was being particularly slow.
"Then who is he?" Jasmine asked, her interest finally piqued.
"His twin brother," Vanessa said with a triumphant, knowing smirk.
"Same shit," Jasmine said, rolling her eyes again, but this time she turned to me with a mischievous smile that was almost more terrifying than her fucking anger. "Girl, when we saw that pic, we knew it was you," she said, nudging my shoulder.
"Pic? What pic?" I asked, my heart starting to thud against my ribs with a sickening dread.
"This one," Vanessa said, pulling out her phone and shoving it in my face. "It's all over Twitter" she added, her voice buzzing with excitement.
Oh, fuck me. There it was. A crystal-clear photo of me and Jacob, his arms wrapped around me, kissing me, his hand on my ass at his birthday party. The caption was something about "Jacob Lancaster's new mystery woman."
"Tell us," Jasmine said, leaning in closer, her eyes gleaming with gossip. "Do you know what happened with the fiancée?"