Sex and the Billionaire Crime Boss - Season 3

Ch. 3: Closing the Door

I meet Martina at 5:30 in the morning at her gym, and wonder if I'm crazy. My routine has always been to work out in the evening at least three times per week, after work not before it. But Martina told me her evenings now are usually spent with Gabe, and I guess I can't argue with that. If Max and I were still together, there would be a lot of things I'd rather do in the evenings instead of going to the gym.

Now, though, I have plenty of time on my hands, both before and after work.

"I don't think I had enough coffee to really wake up yet," I tell her as I take another swig from my water bottle, and she laughs. The water just isn't helping much.

"We'll hit the juice bar after," Martina promises.

I spent the weekend just hanging out with my grandparents. After everything my grandfather told me Friday night, I feel like we have so much lost time to make up for.

Saturday my grandmother and I spent the morning in the garden. Dementia is so strange. She thinks I'm Laura, and could not tell you what year it is or anything that's going on in the world. But she remembers the names and proper care for every flower in the garden.

Afterwards we have a light lunch and she takes a nap. Then the three of us go for a drive along the water, and stop for dinner at an outdoor cafe. I know my grandfather chose it because it's enough out of the way - and early enough in the day - that we weren't likely to run into anyone they knew.

Sunday I spent the whole day relaxing and reading. I think I really needed this break to decompress from everything that's been going on lately.

It's Monday now and promises to be a busy day at the office. That's good. I need distractions so I can stop picturing Max with that woman. Angelica. Every time I think of him touching her, I get this pain in my chest that feels like indigestion but isn't. I've never had my heart broken before, so I'm guessing this is what it feels like.

Martina talked me into trying out her gym, now that I no longer live in the condo building with all the fancy amenities. Honestly, if I asked, my grandfather would probably have a custom home gym installed for me, but I'm seriously in danger of becoming a homebody at 25 years old, so I've made a commitment to get out there a bit more.

This is the first step.

While Martina and I are side by side on exercise bikes, she asks me about the event at the gallery on Friday. So I guess that means Gabe hasn't told her anything about the scene I had with Max afterward. Or maybe Max didn't mention it to Gabe.

I don't regret blocking Max, but it's kind of driving me crazy wondering how many texts he's sent but I never saw.

Or maybe he just gave up when I didn't call him Friday night.

"The event was really nice," I say. "I enjoyed meeting the artist."

She gives me a sideways look. "So what aren't you telling me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Hadley, I can tell from your voice that something happened."

I keep pedaling, not sure how much to say.

She doesn't press me. It's a tactic I'm familiar with from questioning witnesses in depositions. Let the silence stretch out until they feel compelled to fill it.

"He's seeing someone else," I finally say.

She actually stops pedaling for a moment and turns in her seat to face me.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"Well, are you sure?"