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But her hand turns the knob too quickly and she pulls the door open to a tall, handsome guy.
“Sterling?” she asks, sounding stunned.
Chapter Ten
Emma
What is he doing here?
I want to ask, but the words won’t come.
Did he forget how he’d stormed out of our date? How he’d left me hanging and hasn’t answered any calls, texts, or voicemails?
It’s been weeks since I’ve heard from him. How could he possibly think showing up at my work after making me feel like the worst girlfriend ever for venting about work troubles is a good idea?
I am well aware that I'm standing here staring at him, unable to get my mouth to say any of the words that are racing through my mind.
And the fact that he's standing there at the door of my office, smiling like nothing happened only confuses me more.
What the actual heck is going on right now?
I blink, still trying to find the right words - hell, any words to say to him. How can he stand there with the infuriating smile on his handsome face like he’s expecting me to pull him into a huge hug and gush about how happy I am that he’s finally back in my life?
I don’t feel lucky that Sterling is back - I feel angry that he let me think I didn’t matter to him, that I was so unimportant he could walk away without a second thought.
“Hi, Emma,” he says, pulling me into a hug without my permission. I just stand there feeling awkward with my arms trapped down at my sides. His cologne invades my nostrils and the way he squeezes me feels anything but safe. I don't want this. I don't want him. I don't like that he feels he has the right to just walk in here after everything that happened and how he's treated me as if nothing has changed between us.
I want to ask him if he'd be okay with me walking out on a date and then just showing up weeks later as if nothing happened.
I push him away, trying to act casual even though I feel angry, small, and frustrated by his sudden, unwelcome appearance. “Sterling, what are you doing here?” I ask, hearing the unwavering falsely bright tone in my words.
Clifton’s chair makes that small squeak of protest it does when he spins toward the door. Knowing that he's watching only heightens my discomfort.
Sterling gives me a sheepish grin. “I came to apologize, babe. I know I was a jerk the other night.”
I’m surprised both by his apology and the fact that he thinks it was only the other night instead of weeks ago. But when he continues, I forget everything but my anger. “But I've forgiven you for your behavior.”
“You what?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“I forgive you.” He pushes into my office without waiting to be invited and turns toward me, swinging his arms wide like he’s going to give me another hug. Now that Sterling’s back is pointed in Clifton’s general direction, I can see my partner watching events unfold with a mischievous grin on his handsome face. That monster is enjoying this uncomfortable situation.
But Clifton’s amusement is not the reason that I feel a surge of anger. No, I'm furious at Sterling's words. He's forgiven me. For what? For talking to him about a man who at the time had me so upset I couldn't think straight? The man who happens to be in the room with us right now, watching this whole scene with curiosity?
How can Sterling be so blind as to remember that I had a conversation with him about a coworker that drove me nuts and being in the same room with a man I work with without putting two and two together? I'm not sure if he's dumb or just doesn't realize what that entire conversation we had was about outside his anger. I'm voting for the first option.
I try to ignore the fact that Clifton is sitting in his chair watching with a gleeful expression. The only thing he’s missing is the popcorn to really enjoy this dramatic moment.
I hope from the depths of my angry heart that Clifton doesn't realize he was the topic of conversation on that disaster estate.
Sterling’s joyous expression dims, as if I'm not responding at all how he'd expected or hoped I would. “Aren't you happy to see me?” he asks, clearly lacking the cognitive function to read the room or the tense emotions hanging in the air.
I'm about as happy to see him as I'd be if an alligator climbed up the pipes to pop out in the toilet while I was relieving myself. Of course, I’m not about to tell him that.
He pushes on, oblivious to the meaning of my silence. “I have forgiven you for only thinking of another man while on our date.” He flashes a quick grin and moves closer to me, but I back up a step. “I know you were just venting. I understand that, but your behavior was rude and disrespectful. I know you can do better, and I want to give you another chance.”
I feel a sudden surge of heat bathe my cheeks and I resist the urge to slap him. How dare he? I was rude? I was disrespectful? He’s the one who walked out! He ignored me for weeks! He showed up unannounced and uninvited at my workplace, and he has the gall to claim I’m the problem?
I open my mouth to share my thoughts, but he cuts me off.
