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“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said with her lucky dog grin.
CHAPTER 51
Disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings, a spike of panic seized Natalia’s chest the moment she woke up. Then the night came back to her in a rush — dinner with Sam’s friends, walking hand-in-hand, falling into bed together.
Sam’s side of the bed was empty, but before Natalia could wonder where she’d gone, she noticed the gift on the bedside table. Sitting on a warmer was a mug, its Seattle skyline outline the telltale green of a Starbucks brand.
Normally, Natalia hated ugly things. Especially ugly, conglomerate things. There was no style to it. No point of interest. Just a mass-manufactured, soulless product that no one cared enough about to put effort into.
It was ridiculous that the stupid mug, kept steaming by the warmer, should have made her feel anything. Certainly nothing close to the thrill of getting couture tailor-made to her exact measurements in flattering tones. But as she reached for it, trying to ignore the note that said drink me as if Natalia didn’t know what the hell to do with coffee, her body responded. Her heart fluttered, sending a warm sensation that spread like molasses dripping over her chest and dropping down into her empty stomach.
A sip of the coffee confirmed that it was straight black and a little burnt. She drank the bitter coffee as if it had been handcrafted by monks trained in the art of roasting beans for optimum enjoyment.
Behind the mug, Sam had concealed a note. In her surprisingly looping and flourished script, she’d drafted a menu. Natalia rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop a smile before it conquered her face.
Leaning back against the headboard, Natalia pulled the sheets over her nude form. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly. No 3am work calls or restless tossing and turning.
Sam’s presence should have made sleep impossible, but she hadn’t felt suffocated or claustrophobic. Not even when Sam had wrapped herself around her in the middle of the night. It had been… nice?
Natalia chugged her coffee. Since when the hell did she like nice?
From downstairs came the sound of clattering pans and upbeat music. Natalia pictured Sam bopping around the kitchen, probably making a mess attempting to create her breakfast menu.
Normally such disruptions would annoy her, but today she couldn’t find the will to mind. There was something charming about Sam’s enthusiasm, even first thing in the morning.
One fucking orgasm and I’m losing my mind.
With half her objectively terrible coffee gone, Natalia slid out of bed. She decided to let Sam have her grand breakfast reveal and went for the reading glasses in her purse to get through some email after hours away.
When she’d dropped her bag on Sam’s dresser, she’d been more interested in tearing off her clothes. In her distracted state, she hadn’t noticed the thin gold chain holding two rings wrapped around a cute wooden jewelry holder.
The wedding rings Sam had taken off. The symbols of the life she should have had with Sofia. A feeling Natalia couldn’t identify bubbled up in her gut. It was a rightness. Like knowing gravity made sense without understanding how.
She reached out, the gold metal cool against her fingertips. Not once had Natalia ever wanted to be married. She’d never seen the point in it — other than measly tax benefits and maybe some favorable probate rules. But she could get the same thing with a well-drafted contract. And anyway, Sam and Sofia hadn’t even had that. They hadn’t even been able to sign a stupid piece of paper together.
Natalia closed her eyes. Anger roaring in her ears. The injustice. The unfairness. It was too much. With all the shitty takers roaming the Earth — destroying it — and a good life cut short just because she’d done the right thing. Because she’d cared about helping a stranger.
Her phone buzzing on the dresser pulled her out of her revenge fantasy. She pulled on her glasses and reached for the phone. A Los Angeles number she hadn’t saved in her contacts.
“You’ve reached Natalia Flores,” she answered, trying to sound like she’d been working for hours instead of thinking about her kind-of-girlfriend’s dead almost-wife after sleeping in late.
“Natalia, Mack here from Black Forge Films.”
By the sound of the man’s tone, Natalia understood several things at once. First, he was barely keeping his anger in check. Second, something very bad had happened. Three, it was related to Zoe’s Lilith project. She needed to think of it as Zoe’s only Zoe’s.
“I’m not Zoe’s manager?—”
“I know what you are,” he said, the way most people would curse. “And it’s become evident that you might be the only person who can fix this.”
The acidic roiling in her gut tasted like well-meaning coffee, but blazed a line up Natalia’s esophagus just the same.
“You have to talk—” he started, but Natalia wasn’t going to let him think he was in charge of anything and much less her.
“I suggest you reconfigure that sentence.” Natalia’s voice was low and steady even as her blood pressure beat in her eyes. Silent threats were often the most effective.
“We need you to talk to Reyes,” he said, voice tight where it was trapped behind clenched jaws. “She is going to destroy?—”
“I will have the agents managing Dr. Reyes contact you on Monday.”
