Chapter Six

By the time Honey finished the Boston presentation, it was just before four.

Her head throbbed from the remnants of last night's wine and hours of staring at a screen. The notification of her doctor's appointment flashed on her phone. Perfect timing. She needed to get those tests done, then she had plans to meet her friends for dinner. Plans she had made after leaving the meeting with Grayson. Maybe a girls' night was exactly what she needed after the last twenty-four hours she'd had.

As she walked toward the elevator, her phone buzzed with a message. She expected it to be Grayson with some last-minute demand but instead saw it was from her friend Lauren.

So, looking forward to tonight. Maggie confirmed—7:30 at Nonna's?

Honey smiled. Lauren Gardener and Maggie Chase had been her roommates in college, and despite their different career paths, Lauren a rising actress and Maggie a dedicated surgeon… they'd remained close. They were also the only people besides her father and Riley who knew the real Honey Johnson, not the carefully constructed Joy Smith. She didn't see her friends as much as she would have liked. Riley had always made a big deal out of her spending time with them.

Absolutely. Need it more than you know. See you there.

After her doctor's appointment, where the doctor had expedited her tests with a promise to call with results tomorrow afternoon, Honey finally headed home. She needed to shed her Joy persona before meeting her friends.

The apartment was still empty, just as she'd expected. Riley had texted around 3 pm to say he would be working late again. She had scoffed as she read it. Working late… right. More likely he was with the teenage housekeeper again. Honey knew the girl was nineteen and legal, but it just felt wrong. Riley was 35 and married. If Brittany hadn't been a teenager, Honey may have felt a little better about it.

In their bedroom, Honey removed her wig first, sighing with relief as she placed it on its stand. Next came the glasses, then the frumpy clothes. She stood before her closet, considering what to wear. For so long, she'd defaulted to whatever Riley preferred when she was playing the part of his wife, modest, conservative outfits that wouldn't attract attention.

She pulled out a little black dress she hadn't worn in years, one that hugged her curves and showed just enough leg and cleavage to be sexy without crossing into inappropriate. She paired it with strappy heels that added four inches to her height of five foot five.

Nonna's was crowded when she arrived, the upscale Italian restaurant buzzing with Friday night energy. She spotted Lauren and Maggie at a corner table, both already nursing cocktails. She ordered a drink from the passing waiter, letting him know what table to bring it to.

Lauren saw her first. She stood up, waving enthusiastically.

"Holy shit, she emerges!" Lauren exclaimed as Honey approached. "The real Honey Johnson graces us with her presence!"

Maggie, more reserved but equally pleased, stood to embrace her. "You look stunning. What's the occasion?"

Honey slid into her seat. "I'm getting divorced."

Both women froze, martini glasses halfway to their lips.

"I'm sorry, what?" Lauren leaned forward, lowering her voice. "You're divorcing Riley?"

"Found another woman's underwear in my couch last night." Honey accepted the gin and tonic the waiter brought, taking a generous sip. "Found a hot pink thong in our living room. Extra small, definitely not mine." She was small but not that small.

"That motherfucker," Maggie hissed, her medical professionalism momentarily abandoned. "I knew something was off with him. God, men are dogs."

Lauren shook her head. "Are you okay? I mean, obviously you're not okay, but... how are you handling it anyway?"

"Surprisingly well," Honey admitted. "I think I have suspected for a while. Finding the evidence was almost... relieving. I've already hired a PI, had my blood tested just in case, and set up cameras in the apartment. He will not get a penny out of me."

"So," Lauren said, twirling pasta around her fork, "now that you're getting divorced, are you going to drop the whole Joy Smith act at work too?"

Honey nearly choked on her wine. "God, no. It was never there for any other reason than keeping an eye on the business I own 10% of and stepping away from being known as Gage Johnson's daughter. I loved numbers and I love being a CFO. Joy is not connected to Riley at all. Could you imagine Grayson finding out."

"The infamous Grayson Taylor," Maggie mused. "The way you talk about him at times, he sounds like a corporate supervillain."

"He's..." Honey paused, considering. After today's interaction, she wasn't sure how to characterize him anymore. "Well, it feels like it sometimes. He is brilliant but arrogant. Today he actually complimented my work, which was new."

"Maybe he's not as bad as you—" Lauren stopped mid-sentence, her eyes fixed on something over Honey's shoulder. "Holy shit."

"What?" Honey turned to follow her gaze.

"Don't look!" Lauren hissed, but it was too late.

Near the entrance, being led to a table by the maître d', was Grayson Taylor himself. And he wasn't alone. A tall, elegantly beautiful blonde woman walked beside him, laughing at something he'd said as she clung to his arm.

"That's Grayson Taylor?" Maggie whispered, impressed. "That man is sex on legs."

"And that's definitely not Morgan Fairchild with him," Lauren added. "Everyone knows he's engaged to her. She tells everyone she meets. He is a real catch for her." Both Lauren and Morgan were actresses. Lauren had never worked with Morgan but they both went to some of the same parties and auditions.

Honey stared, unable to look away. Grayson with a woman that wasn't his fiancé. Maybe it was innocent. Honey felt like snorting. She had zero trust left in men right now.

"I need another drink," Honey muttered, signaling the waiter again.

The waiter seemed to be taking his sweet time noticing Honey's signal, and her empty glass sat mockingly in front of her. Meanwhile, Grayson and his mystery blonde were being seated at a prime table near the window.

"That's it," Honey muttered, rising from her chair. "I'm going to the bar myself."

Honey strode across the restaurant, conscious of her appearance in the black dress that hugged her curves. Without her Joy Smith persona, she moved differently, with more confidence, her natural grace no longer suppressed. At the bar, she leaned forward, catching the bartender's attention.

"One gin and tonic, and two martinis, please."

While waiting, she didn't look towards Grayson's table.

The bartender nodded at Honey's order, quickly mixing the drinks. As she waited, she felt a presence beside her, someone sliding onto the stool at her right. From her peripheral vision, she caught sight of a dark suit and the scent of expensive sandalwood cologne.

The bartender looked up.

"Scotch, neat," came a deep voice she recognized instantly. "And a sparkling water."

Honey kept her gaze fixed on the bartender's hands as he prepared her drinks, willing herself not to turn. Of all the bars in all the restaurants in New York, Grayson Taylor had to pick this one. She shifted slightly, angling her body away from him.

"I'll pay for the drinks now," she told the bartender, pulling out her credit card. No need to charge to their table.

The bartender nodded, but before he could take her card, Grayson's voice cut in.

"Add the lady's drinks to my tab."