Page 69 of After Care

“If you’re certain, how about meeting in my office in five? I have a few things to be scheduled this week.”

I nodded. He stood from my desk, and I watched his backside as he entered his office. It occurred to me, I knew more about my boss than Tommy. I was in over my head with the former rock star. What I needed was normal man—a stable, considerate, no-holding-back-the-truth man. To my shame, Max turned and caught me staring at him. My face pinked, and his lip curled. My phone vibrated on the desk, and I instantly looked away from my teasing boss. Reading Tommy’s name, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t answer him. I had work to do.

+ + +

Twenty minutes later, Max’s office phone rang. He didn’t even say hello when he noticed who was calling.

“Sure,” he answered, his eyes looking up at me. Holding out the phone, I stared at him. How could the phone be for me in his office?

“Edie,” Grace’s hushed voice hissed through the phone. “The most gorgeous silver fox is here to see you. Girl, you have some explaining to do.”

“Who is it?” I asked, knowing full well who might be standing in the lower office, but still shocked that it could be him.

“He says his name is Tommy Carrigan, but girl, he looks just like an older Lawson Colt.” She hummed into the phone, and I shook my head. He is an older Lawson Colt, I wanted to scream.

“Thank you,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be right down.”

Looking back at Max, I found him watching me.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

His brows pinched, and he nodded once, dismissing me. I turned for the door, attempting to walk in even, normal paces, one foot in front of the other. But the second I cleared Max’s office, I was nearly sprinting, my heels clicking as I walked as quickly as my tight pencil skirt would allow. I banged on the elevator button, tapping my foot as I waited. When it opened, I huffed “Finally,” although the inanimate object couldn’t care less about my galloping emotions. My insides coiled like a tempest, half-thrilled, half-angry. When the doors to the elevator opened on the ground floor, the tempest hit land like a hurricane, and my legs shook. Tommy stood just outside the double doors, facing me, waiting. His hair stood on end, as his fingers had run through it.

Stepping forward, I said something that was the furthest from my mind. “You missed your flight.”

“I’ll take another one.” He looked over his shoulder at our audience of Grace. Reaching for my elbow, he tugged me to the side. “Let’s get out of here.”

I twisted, pulling my arm upward, and releasing his grasp. “I can’t do that.” Some people needed to work for a living. I was one of them.

“Why not?”

“What do you want?” I countered. His lips curled in a smile as I answered his question with a question, but then they went flat as he took in my expression.

“Fine,” he huffed. “I met Deanna here in Chicago over fifteen years ago. It was one of those instant attractions. A one-night stand and we got married.” I stared at him. That wasn’t enough information. It wasn’t even comforting information, and I sensed he was omitting again. My arms remained crossed, my hip out as I waited. His eyes looked away and he took a deep breath.

“She said she was pregnant. She claimed it was mine, and I did what I thought was the right thing and offered to marry her.”

My mouth popped open, an audible gasp echoing through the windowed lobby. My stomach, which already churned, circled again, and the nausea returned.

“You have a child?”

He shook his head. “She lied.”

My arms fell, and I stood taller. My brows pinched in question, but the anguish on his face said it all. He’d wanted to believe she was pregnant. He wanted his own child, and it hadn’t happened.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice scratchy and lowered. I was sorry for him.

“She was a model. Six years younger than me. I should have known better. She didn’t want a kid. It would have ruined her figure. We were only married a few months, long enough for the tabloids to eat us up and spit us out. It was eventually annulled.”

“What about the airport?” His head shot back to mine.

“It’s an airport. She was heading out. I was coming in. The paparazzi must have snapped the picture as we greeted each other.” His voice was filled with irritation as he explained. That greeting included a hug. His hands on her shoulders. Her hands on his jaw. It looked intimate, longing, and something else. Did they once love each other? Instant attraction? Hadn’t that been us? I was ready to ask everything when the hard sole of a man’s shoes tapping over a tile floor drew my attention. Max walked directly up to us, determination on his face, as he came towards me. He stopped at my side, and I took a moment to compare the two men. It was a life-size display of “This or That”, like one of those games on social media. The man with a suit, or the man with tattoos. The clean-shaven, sensible short hair look, or the scruffy jaw with hair to his collar. The millionaire businessman, or the millionaire musician. My eyes flicked from Max to Tommy and back.

A battle of wills stood between the two. Max came to my side, and unprecedentedly, placed his hand on my lower back. It was a display of possession as he spoke to Tommy, but asked the question of me, “Are you all right?” Tommy took in the position of Max, the placement of his hand and the nearness of him to me.

“She’s fucking fine,” Tommy replied, and Max’s hand tightened on my back.

“Edie?” Max inquired, his voice rolling over my name and I turned to look up at him.