“You think your world could be a good game.”
“I don’t knowthat, but Horace seems to think some of it’s worth exploring, at least.”
“Thanks for sharing that with me, Rey. Are you saying you’ve revived the artist in you then?”
“I do.” She grins.
Only now do I realise I’ve been inching closer to her. She’s so close I can feel the heat from her body. Everything is so clear. That smile. Those dimples. Those plump lips.
Without thinking, I reach out, and my hand finds hers. A gasp escapes her, which jolts me back, and I let go.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathe and step back towards the gate.
Did I just make her uncomfortable? Fuck, that’s the last thing I want.
Anger at my reckless behaviour creeps into my gut. I’ve been selfish. I made the wrong decision today, spending time with her like that. This is all wrong.
“Goodnight, Rey.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
cedarwood
REY
There’s a flutter in my stomach as I enter the bright and colourful office this Monday morning. Spending time with Mark like that was so unexpected, I haven’t had much brain space to process Robin letting me down. Before I round the corner of our creative area, I need to stop. Why the hell am I so nervous to see him? He was just being nice, and he’ll probably pretend it didn’t happen. Why would he acknowledge it?
It’ll be back to how it was before, but maybe without him being so prickly with me.
I brace myself for seeing the formidable figure of Mark in his office, sitting behind his desk, frowning at his laptop. He’s had the door open lately, as if he’s trying to be more approachable, which means I’ve had a clear view of him every time I come this way.
Finally, I take the step around the corner.
Oh.
He’s not there.
The adrenaline that had been rushing through me in expectation now pools as cold disappointment in my stomach.
I try to shake it off. Why do I care?
Horace is at his desk in the office on the other side of Mark’s, and I pop my head in to say hello.
“Rey,” he says, smiling. “You won’t believe it!”
“What?”
“Mark has asked me to showcase the idea of a fresh design concept. Isn’t that amazing?”
I gape at him. Mark listened to me?
“Yes, it is. When did you speak with him?”
“This morning, he’s in the upstairs office this week. Focusing on something, he said.”
The disappointment-pool turns to rock. He’s hiding?
No, what am I thinking? It’s a coincidence. I’m nothing to him.
