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“You left the referral list again.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you respond?”
“There was nothing to say.” Neither of us speaks for a few minutes until I hear him swallow.
“I can swing by tomorrow,” I say. He’s quiet for a second before responding.
“That might not be the best idea after what happened last time.” I let out a chuckle and he follows suit.
“Yeah, you might be right. Maybe we should meet somewhere else. Somewhere a bit more public?” I close my eyes and take a breath, then silently pray he doesn’t offer the courier service again. I want to see him. If only for a moment.
“I have a patient tomorrow night. But I can stop by your building and leave it with the doorman.”
“Call me when you get there and I’ll grab it.” There’s a pause on the other end of the line and I wonder if the call disconnected. “I want to briefly go over the list with you.”
“Yes, that makes sense. Okay, my next patient is here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hanging up the phone, I swear I feel every muscle in my body loosen and then tighten again. I’m not ready to let him go. I’m not ready to move on.
ONE DAY LATER . . .
I should still be at work. I should be finishing up the last of the details for the Posh Life launch. I definitely shouldn’t be home pacing my apartment. But here I am, in front of the mirror, reapplying my lip-gloss for the umpteenth time. Truth is, it’s already five p.m., but with the new project, this will be my first chance to prove myself as more than Richard’s family. Landing the project isn’t enough. Nailing the pitch isn’t enough. I need to knock it out of the park, but instead, my head is too distracted with what I’ll wear to see Preston. Black skirt and a silk blouse, black pumps. That way it appears as if I’m coming home from work.
Finally, after what seems like forever, my phone pings with a new text.
Preston: Downstairs in lobby.
Me: Come up.
I type before I can second-guess myself. I wonder what he will say. My heart leaps in my chest as I wait.
In. Out.
In. Out.
The intercom buzzes.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Miss. Hamilton. I have a Preston Montgomery here to see you.”
“Send him up.”
When I swing the door open, my chest tightens. It’s only been a few days since his lips touched mine, but I’m hungry for him all over again. As my gaze reaches his, I know I’m not the only one affected by this pull. He still feels it. His breathing is shallow as he surveys me. It makes my pulse race. With one step, we are practically touching. So close that if I reach out, my hand would be on his. Desire pools in my belly. Lifting my hand, my fingertips connect with his jaw. A sharp inhale of breath echoes through the room.
“No matter what’s wrong or right, or even if I can lose my license, I don’t fucking care.” He pulls his lower lip between his teeth and I’m afraid he might draw blood. Finally letting go, he speaks. “Go away with me.” There is finality in his voice. As though this is my one chance to be with him.
“What?”
“I need time with you. I need to see you again before I let you go. I’m not ready for this to end.” I can hear him take a deep breath and in my head I hear the word he didn’t say . . . yet. “I know my job is on the line but maybe we can figure out a way to make it work.” I wonder if he hears his own lie or if he, like me, so desperately wants to believe that he’s still clinging to the hope of a chance.
“But how? What if someone sees us?”
“We’ll go somewhere. Just you and me.” He motions his hand between us. “I know it’s so wrong for me to ask but I’m aski—”
“Yes.”
“Yes?” His face contorts. Awe, fear, and then resignation cross over his face. This might be our only shot to be together again.
“Yeah, one trip. One perfect trip and then . . .” I take a breath but don’t have the strength to say the rest of words I know will one day break my heart. “And then I’ll let you go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
PRESTON
THIS ISN’T A GOOD IDEA. We shouldn’t be going away. If the APA finds out, I can lose my license. Do I trust her enough to know she won’t tell?
We’re asking for trouble. Or at least, I am. But like an addict, I need my next hit. What the hell am I doing? What the hell are we doing?
Maybe it can work out . . . who am I kidding?
Shit. I need to think straight but around her I can’t.
She’s beautiful. Gorgeous. She’s everything I want and don’t deserve. I’m being selfish but I don’t care. I need to have her, even if only for a brief moment. I know the ramifications of my actions. But fuck. How can I not have her?
Just once.
Maybe twice.
One taste.
God, it’s wrong. I guess I’m a bigger asshole than I thought, but she’s pure temptation.
Consequences be damned.
CHAPTER THIRTY
EVE
I HURRY BACK to my apartment. I have to pack. Tomorrow we will be going somewhere after work. I’m not sure where, as Preston finalized the details.
I don’t think one weekend will be enough, though I lied and agreed to it because the thought of not having this time with him makes me sick. The thought of not feeling his hands again is too much to bear. So I agreed and made a promise I know I can’t keep.
“So, what are you going to do?” Sydney’s asks after I tell her Preston invited me away for the weekend.
“Fuck him out of my system.” I laugh and she giggles, too. She thinks I’m joking. When I stop laughing and give her a serious look, she stops as well.
“What do you mean?”
“Since we can’t be together here, we’re going away. We’re going to get each other out of our systems.” She crosses her hands in front of her chest.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“Nope.”
“So why are you doing it?”
“Because I can’t not.” She nods in understanding.
“When do you leave?” I take a gulp of my wine before answering her question.
“After work tomorrow.”
“Where you going?”
“No clue.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Me, too.
I’M a basket of pent up energy at work. Not only did I not sleep well, but I’m also super nervous about leaving with Preston today. Luckily for me, at least my anxiety at work is almost under control. I have become well versed in self-soothing techniques. That, and I’m popping homeo
pathic remedies like they’re candy. If only they made a drop for calming my subconscious mind when asleep.
To make matters worse, the lawyers are here again. Who knew settling someone’s affairs would take so long? That Richard left his shares of the company to my mother leads me to believe maybe he needed psychiatric help as well. I’ll never understand why he did it or why my mom had anything to do with anything, but as long as Michael has control of the show, I feel secure we’ll all continue to have jobs.
After answering emails and basically fidgeting at my desk, I see Michael step out into the hallway and wave me into the conference room. With long strides, I make my way in and take a seat.
“Thanks for joining us. I’ll be stepping out shortly, but I wanted to ask if your mom was okay?” His comment makes me narrow my eyes.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, no different than always. Why do you ask?”
“Well, Mr. Swartz has been trying to contact her to sign some papers in regard to the will and she hasn’t responded to his request. We wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“From what she’s said on the phone and when I’ve seen her, yeah, but I can follow up with her next week if you want?” Normally I would go straight to my mom with this news and make sure she’s okay, but I’m tired of not living my own life and I need to stop enabling her. She needs to learn to be more self-sufficient. Finding out why she hasn’t answered the lawyers will have to wait.
“That would be great. Thank you so much.” He stands and straightens his suit jacket. “I’ll leave you two.” I smile up at him, then turn my attention to the attorney.
“Thank you, Ms. Hamilton, for taking your time to meet with me again. I wanted to discuss how you would like to proceed with the apartment. At the last meeting you said you didn’t wish to keep the property. I wanted to see if you had changed your mind, and if not, whether you’d like help selling it?”
“I have thought about it and yes, I have no wish to keep it. As much as I love it, it’s too close to my mother.” I try to laugh. The idea of living so close to her again makes my whole body crawl. I love my mom, but she sucks the life out of me.
