Lena walks briskly into the foyer, eyes me with disdain, and tells me to follow her to the outdoor lounge. Sebastian's meeting with someone, she says.

"He wants you with him. He'll be finished soon."

"I don't see why I can't just wait for Sebastian to finish with his meeting," I grumble as I follow her outside. Even though I'm only ten miles from where I was soaked in a downpour, it's not raining in this part of the city. That's life in the tropics, I guess. The oppressive humidity hangs in the air and my hair and dress are still damp.

"He told me to bring you to him. I do what I'm told."

I roll my eyes. Of course she does.

Right when we hit the stone archway that leads into the garden, Lena steps aside and gestures with her perfectly manicured hand. Lena often has prettier and more glamorous nails than I do. "He's over there."

I mutter a thanks and stride over, my eyes locked on Sebastian's bald head that's glowing in the fading light. This yard is so big that he's seemingly a half a football field away.

He and another man are sitting on the patio furniture, which is set up around one of those outdoor fire pits with lava stones. It's where Sebastian likes to drink scotch and smoke cigars. He calls it his outdoor lounge. Even though the temperature in Miami is always soupy and scorching for late spring, the fire is lit.

Tonight, between the heavy air and the flickering flames, it looks as though it could be a scene from one of the circles of hell.

And Sebastian, with his bald head and his foxlike goatee, resembles a devil. I notice his sharp face is in profile, while the man he's speaking with has his back turned to me. I can only stare at Sebastian, though, because he's the target of my attention.

Should I break it off right here, in front of his guest?

No, that's unnecessary. He doesn't deserve that. He's not that horrible. I'll have to play nice for a while and then tell him over dinner. Or maybe he'll send me away because I look like hell. In the car I tried to tame my damp hair into a ponytail.

It's annoying that he wants me to meet his guest. I hate how he always wants to show me off. Well, tonight, there's not much to show. I have no makeup on, my hair is half-wet and my clothes are rumpled because they've been on the floor of my boyfriend's hotel room.

Out the corner of his eye, Sebastian spots me and stands up, grinning. He extends his arm in my direction as I get closer.

"There she is. I'd like you to meet someone, mein liebling," he calls out. Barf. "Come, meet an old family friend."

The next few minutes happen in excruciating slow motion. Time expands in relation to the blood that feels like it's draining from my body, leaching out of my skin and into the soil under the hyper-green grass.

My gaze lands on the other man.

A familiar pang shoots through my chest at how he moves when he stands. At his broad shoulders. At his caramel-colored hair.

The man turns. He looks at me with wide, horrified eyes.

I stop, right there in the grass. The air leaks out of my lungs. My heart freezes. My feet freeze. My brain shuts down. This cannot be happening.

Oh God, no.

"My beautiful Juliette," Sebastian says, taking two steps to me. He slides his arm around my waist and kisses my temple. "I'd like you to meet Griffin Davis. His father was an immense help to me."

Sebastian tries to propel me toward Griffin, who is looking at me with a mixture of anger, confusion and utter disbelief. His jaw ticks. I root myself to the soft grass.

"Griffin, I'd like you to meet the woman I was telling you about. Juliette Phillips."

Sebastian leans in to my ear and speaks loud enough for Griffin to hear. "I thought you were going to dress up, but I love you looking wild and untamed like this. Because I get to be the one who tames you."

Bile bubbles in the bottom of my throat. For reasons that I can't fathom, Griffin recovers from this shock far quicker than I do. With a cold stare in his tawny eyes, he nods. "We're acquainted."

I can feel that acidic bile burning the back of my tongue now. It creeps to the midsection of my tongue, and I swallow. Or try to.

Sebastian tugs me a few inches closer to his body and chuckles. "That's right! You're both from Kendall. It makes sense that you'd know each other. Juliette, aren't you a few years younger than Griffin? Or perhaps your brother was the same age?"

Why does Sebastian look so gleeful?

My entire body feels awash in moist, hot sweat. I open my mouth, but instead of a word, I rasp out a noise.

"Ahhgghh."

My knees feel like they have the consistency of licorice ropes. I try to speak again, but the same guttural sound leaks out.

Sebastian tilts his head to look at me and frowns. "Come again, dear? I don't understand what you're saying."

"My phone. I think I left my phone in my car," I blurt. "I'll be right back."

I whirl on the balls of my feet and break into a run. I pass under the stone arch, rip open the French door, careen through the foyer past a wide-eyed Lena, and then out the front door.

By the time I get to my car in the driveway, tears stain my cheeks and I'm panting. My hands are almost shaking so hard that I can't put the key in the ignition.

What if Sebastian comes after me?

What if Griffin doesn't?

Finally I start the car and I roar down the driveway, passing the sharply cut green hedges and neatly trimmed palm trees. By the time I'm on the main road, I'm hysterical and weaving dangerously in my lane. It's starting to get dark and another driver honks at me.

In my fog, I realize I've been driving for five minutes without my headlights on.

A little voice tells me I need to pull over before I cause a crash, and I haul ass into an empty bank parking lot, swiping a sidewalk curb with my back tire. My car suspension makes a sickening thunk.

Once the car's come to a stop, I open the door and dry heave onto the asphalt. I haven't eaten in hours, but that doesn't mean my body won't try to purge the pain that's invaded my stomach. And every other organ.

The door's still open and I'm slumped over the steering wheel, crying like I've never cried before.

The man that's going to help Griffin with a drug deal is Sebastian.

Zoe's life is in danger if Griffin doesn't work with Sebastian.

Sebastian.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," I whisper. What am I going to do? I'd planned on telling Griffin about him. This is the absolute worst way for him to find out, though.

My heart sinks even further into my stomach when I recall Griffin's eyes. They looked disappointed, anguished, betrayed. Like I'd reached into his chest and ripped his heart out with my bare hand.

I am a piece of shit.

Logically, I know haven't betrayed Griffin. I thought he was dead. I did what I had to, in order to save my brother's life. I haven't slept with Sebastian, have barely kissed him.

But I still feel guilty. The look of disbelief on Griffin's face is too much to bear. I've let him down. I'm wailing now.

Although, to be honest, he set these wheels in motion, by going to Amsterdam on a drug deal. By getting killed. By returning alive.

Still, he's my only concern right now. I love him. Saving our relationship is more important than anything.

This situation couldn't be worse, could it? What I don't understand is why.

Why Griffin turned to Sebastian. Why would a politically connected, uber-wealthy doctor sell drugs to a guy in his twenties?

Griffin's voice echoes in my mind. "Not cocaine. Not heroin. It's something specific and different..."

And then it dawns on me.

Pills. Opiates. Oxycontin. Sebastian runs pain clinics. He parties with pharmaceutical executives on their yachts and at their mansions. I lean my head back and shut my eyes.

It obviously could be worse. Is getting worse by the second. Probably I don't even know the entire, horrible story.

Something tells me I'm about to find out.

Losing all track of time, I sit in the bank parking lot until it's fully dark, mulling my options. I could return to Sebastian's house and break it off with him like I intended.

But I'm not sure I'm in the mood to answer questions about why I acted so strange and why I ran off. I don't know if I should tell Sebastian that Griffin was — is — the man I love. I don't think I can look at Sebastian without puking.

The key to Griffin's hotel room is in my purse. I could go there. We were supposed to have a perfect night, sleeping in each other's arms. Now I dread seeing him. I dread talking to him. The more time passes, the more I feel like I've done something terribly wrong. How am I going to explain everything?

I could go to Jacksonville and stay with Mom and Ash. That would be a temporary solution, though. I have a feeling that Sebastian or Griffin would eventually track me down there, and I'd have to explain myself anyway, only from the discomfort of my mom's apartment. Dragging Mom and Ash into this is an awful idea.

The other option is to flee.

Or...I look across the street at an eight-story garage. It's the parking area for the upscale mall. Yes. That's it.

Sniffling, I shut the door and start the car. It only takes me a few minutes to pull out of the bank lot and onto the street, then into the garage. I'm swallowing lump after lump in my throat as I drive to the top, open-air deck.

I pull into a space, shut off the car and climb out. The stucco ledge comes to my chest, but it wouldn't take much for me to hoist myself up and over.

I stare down at the twinkling lights of Miami's nicest suburb, then I lean over the ledge. It's high enough that I'd die instantly when I hit the sidewalk. Folding my arms and resting them on the ledge, I bow my head on my hands.

Will suicide make things better for anyone?

Probably not.

Is this my darkest moment?

No. It's not. The minutes and hours when I first thought Griffin was dead were. This is bad, but not insurmountable. Maybe Griffin will understand everything. Maybe he'll pull me close and whisper in my ear, tell me that I was just being brave because I had to. And now that he's back, everything will be okay.

I lift my head, and a cool breeze caresses my skin.

Yes. That's what will happen. We'll handle this together. I forgave him, and now, he can forgive me.

Killing myself won't solve anything.

I take a shuddering, sloppy inhale and step back from the ledge. When I'm behind the wheel of my car, I tilt the rear view mirror to look at myself.

Crap. It's the worst I've ever looked. My eyes are like two baby pufferfish. Sweat beads are clustered on my forehead. A small crust of snot clings to my nostril. Even though I'd showered with Griffin, not much actual bathing was done.

A pang of need mixed with shame crests in my stomach. Another shower and a change of clothes will make me feel immensely better. I'll stop at home, freshen up, and then go to Griffin's hotel.

That way, if he's upset, he'll have time to calm down. As I drive home, I already feel more purposeful. I have a plan. We'll get through this.

I'll deal with Sebastian later. Anyway, he's a smart man. By the look on my face and the way I'd run off, he'll put two and two together.

Probably I've overreacted because I'm emotionally strung out and exhausted. This is just a minor speed bump. I should have just addressed both men right there. A more sophisticated, experienced woman would have. Yeah, that's what Vee would have done. Then they would have all shared a drink and a laugh and everyone would go on their merry way.

Well, with Vee they would have probably had a threesome. But still. She wouldn't have run off like I had.

I pull into my condo and park in my assigned space. There's an elevator for residents right from the parking garage, and I press the button for my floor. My phone says it's ten at night, a little later than I anticipated. There are three missed calls from Sebastian. Is it odd that Griffin hasn't called? The fact that he hasn't makes the despair and doubt creep back into my gut.

Maybe I should call him. Tell him I love him. Apologize.

I'm stepping out of the elevator and scrolling to his number when I round the corner to the corridor that leads to my condo. I look up from the phone, and gasp.

____