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Chapter Nineteen
Mia
I hurried down the hall, hoping to avoid being late for my conference call. The meeting with the advertisers had lasted longer than I’d anticipated. My heels clattered on the marble hallways. I ducked into the small kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
I hoped to make it a quick stop, but I saw Terry at the coffeepot, waiting for it to finish.
I hadn’t seen him since we’d screamed at each other in front of Bryce’s apartment. What a mess that had been. I studied the floor as I carefully made my way over to the fridge to retrieve my water. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his eyes were on me. I reached back and ran a hand through my low ponytail.
“You have that sexy secretary thing going on today.” Terry’s eyes were predatory. I flushed under his stare, glancing down at my outfit. I wore a red pencil skirt with a black sweater open to a black cami underneath, and I wore my black-rimmed glasses.
“Terry,” I warned. I wasn’t sure what I was warning him against. Was it because this conversation wasn’t appropriate for the workplace? Or was it more that I wasn’t ready for it? Probably the latter, but hell if I would admit that to him.
The refrigerator was beside the coffeepot, which put me in the corner when I went to pull my water from the fridge. Terry fully faced me now, and I couldn’t get past him easily.
“You need something?” he asked, his tone teasing as his eyes danced with mischief.
When I didn’t answer him, he continued talking to me—more like taunting me with that southern drawl of his. “You have your glasses on today. I haven’t seen you wear those out in public in a long time.”
“Yeah, well, my eyes are tired,” I told him, trying to sound casual and hide the bite I knew was bound to sneak out if he tried to bring up yesterday.
“Someone keeping you up late?” Terry eyed me warily, and I just shrugged in response.
“You still staying with Bryce?” The tone of Terry’s voice was venomous. It shouldn’t have made my heart sing that he was jealous—something I knew already—but it did.
“No, I’m home now.”
“Hmm,” was all Terry said as he brought his hand up to push back a strand of hair that had shaken loose from my ponytail. Our eyes locked as he carefully brought his hand back down to his side.
I sighed in relief. I had survived that simple touch. The fire I’d felt from the last time we were this close had told me I might not.
“You okay?” He must have noticed the way I’d reacted to his simple touch.
“Listen, Terry, about yesterday—”
“You don’t owe me anything, Mia. I just got a little jealous when I saw another man touching you, talking to you. You name it, I can’t handle it.”
“It’s been years. Years. Why does it bother you?”
“For the same reason it bothers you when the models talk to me.” Terry laughed. “Like I’ve told you a million times, I still know you.” I rolled my eyes, growing annoyed. He continued. “I still remember your tells, Mia. The way you ball up your hands into a fist. The roll of your eyes. And my favorite, the way you stomp away from the scene because you just can’t take it.”
“I do not stomp,” I said, flushing red.
He laughed in return. “Yes, you do. You may not mean to, but I can hear the angry clomping of your heels on the marble.”
“Whatever,” was the only response I could muster.
“You own a shoe company, and you have a building with marble floors. If you don’t want me to hear you stomping away, then get quieter floors.”
I knew it was a teasing comment, but I was annoyed. “Only place I could afford.”
I thought I was better at hiding things, but I guess when someone knew me as well as Terry did, that wasn’t possible anymore. “I wish I wasn’t always so easy for you to read,” I admitted. It was exhausting trying to hide my emotions from him. Sometimes I didn’t even know why I bothered.
“You’re not as easy to read as you think you are. There are just some things I notice about you that others might not. Things I noticed even when we were together.”
“Like what?”
“You want me to tell you so can you get better at putting on the mask?” He raised his eyebrow.
