So when five o’clock finally rolled around, I packed up my things and left without a backward glance. The driver was waiting for me, just like he had been yesterday.
When I arrived at the crowded bar, Jamie was already there, tucked into a booth near the back. His face lit up when he saw me. Handsome in an ordinary way—kind eyes, a warm smile, dirty blonde hair falling over his forehead. He looked comfortable. Safe.
Everything Lorenzo wasn’t.
“Zara!” He stood to greet me, pulling me into a quick hug. “God, it’s good to see you. You look great.”
“Thanks,” I forced a smile. “You too.”
We settled into the booth, and he flagged down a waitress so we could order drinks.
“So,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. “I’m really sorry about Nathan. To be honest, I always thought you were too good for him, anyway.”
I shrugged, taking a long sip of my drink. “It is what it is.”
“That’s a very philosophical way of looking at it.”
“It’s a very ‘I’ve been dumped before’ way of looking at it.”
He laughed, and the sound was easy, uncomplicated. I found myself relaxing, just a little.
We talked about old times, high school, about coworkers we’d both hated, and projects we’d both survived. He asked about my new job, and I told him the watered-down version. He talked about his—he’d gotten promoted, was considering buying a house in the suburbs.
Normal things.
For an hour, I let myself pretend I was just a regular twenty-one-year-old at a bar with a friend. That my life wasn’t a mess of contracts and old wounds and a husband who watched me like I was a puzzle he needed to solve.
“You okay?” Jamie asked, his brow furrowing. “You seem a little…out of it.”
“Sorry.” I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. “Just a long day. Rough week, really.”
He nodded sympathetically. “Breakups suck. Trust me, I’ve been there. If you ever need to talk, or just want someone to drink with, I’m around.”
“Thanks, Jamie.”
I meant it. But even as I said it, a part of me felt hollow.
I didn’t want Jamie. I didn’t want casual drinks with a nice guy who would never understand the darkness clawing at the edges of my life.
I wanted?—
No, I wasn’t going to think about what I wanted.
I lifted my glass and smiled, and I let the noise of the bar drown out the silence where Lorenzo’s voice had been.
Chapter Eighteen
Lorenzo
I had asked the staff to provide Zara with anything she might need while I was in New Jersey, trying to negotiate an arms deal. A directive from my father, likely to punish me for ruining his arrangement by marrying Zara.
I thought maybe a couple of days for her to breathe and adjust to the penthouse would be helpful.
That was until I saw her on the camera, leaving the house dressed too damn sexy. I hadn’t even left New York before I had to turn around. The red dot pulsing on my phone screen like a heartbeat.
I’d tracked her phone the moment she left the penthouse. I’d been trying to give her space, trying to be the kind of husband who trusted his wife, who didn’t smother her with my need.
And this was what I got for it.
