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With those parting words, my father leaves me in his dark study with a head spinning from a lot more than just alcohol.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
SCARLETT
Iwake up alone. Crew’s side of the bed is empty and cold. If he came home last night, he didn’t sleep next to me. I tossed and turned most of the night, so I’m confident I would have heard him come in. The realization he didn’t creeps in slowly, with plenty of other doubts I try to push aside.
I shower, then dry my hair and apply a light layer of makeup. Enough to cover the dark circles below my eyes and, of course, some red lipstick.
Armor feels especially important today. I pull on a pair of black tights and a gray sweater dress. It’s off-the-shoulder and loose without being baggy, camouflaging my small bump. At this point, my pregnancy is somewhat of an open secret. I doubt anyone I work with has missed the fact that I stopped drinking coffee, walk around carrying a granola bar, and occasionally run to the bathroom at inopportune times. Despite how strained our relationship is, it feels strange to tell my employees I’m pregnant before my own father. He was sleeping when I visited him yesterday, which was honestly a relief. My father and I don’t have much to say to each other under the best of circumstances.
Before I head downstairs, I peek into the guest bedroom Crew slept in when he first moved in. It’s empty, the bed neatly made and unwrinkled.
I’m stunned by how harsh and hard the panic hits. I thought I’d be okay if things between me and Crew ever went south. There’s a saying: how you’ll never know how much you want something until it’s gone. That’s not how I feel. I already knew how much I want him. I didn’t know the pain of possibly losing him would feel this visceral, how I wouldn’t be prepared for falling apart.
So, I do what I always do. I shove the pesky emotions far down and go to work.
The office isn’t as busy as it would be on a normal Thursday, but it’s far from empty. Prep work for the February issue is in full swing, which has become my professional focus now thatrougehas officially launched. Approving the groundwork—from the branding to the hiring—has given me some flexibility in how much time I spend juggling my two endeavors. So has the reality I’ll have to take a stretch of time off in a few months.
Leah approaches as soon as she sees me step out of the elevator. “Good morning!”
“Good morning.” My greeting is decidedly less cheery than Leah’s.
“I’m so sorry about your father.”
I sigh. “Thank you. He’ll be fine, we think.”
“Oh, good. How was your Christmas?”
“Could have been better,” I admit. “Yours?”
“It was nice. My parents are visiting.”
“You should go, then. I told you to take today off.”
“But you’re here.”
“I can manage. Just let me know…” I glance up to see Leah is no longer paying attention to me. She’s focused behind me, on something.
Someone.
I glance over one shoulder. Sure enough, Crew is stepping out of the elevator I left minutes ago, headed straight toward me.
Most of the time,Haute’s open layout is convenient. I can quickly assess who is at their desk. Different departments can collaborate.
Right now, it’s fuckinginconvenient. More people than I realized were even in the office today are poking their heads out of cubicles and from behind partitions, straining to get a better look. When I’ve been the subject of office gossip before, it wasn’t firsthand.
Up untilnow.
This is primetime entertainment.
“What are you doing here?” I snap.
He looks good. Healwayslooks good. Freshly showered and clean shaven, and wearing a pressed, crisp suit tailored to fit him perfectly.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Now?” The condescending challenge in my voice would be enough to make most people shrink. Crew is not one of those people.
