Page 40 of A Song for You

I motion toward a table, and she flags down the other barista on the schedule today. Once the register is covered, she plops down across from where I remain standing.

“Where is she?” I ask again, forcing my voice to remain even.

Mia rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “She hasn’t been back to the apartment since Friday. I have no idea where she is. And whatever’s going on obviously involves you because she texted me yesterday to tell me she quit. What did you do?”

I grip the back of the chair before finally taking a seat, feeling restless. “Mia,” I urge, dropping my forearms to the tabletop. “I care about her.”

“You don’t care about anyone,” she snaps, biting her quivering lip like she’s trying to hide her trepidation. I fucking hate that we’re both interested in the same woman, but while Mia isn’t any good for her, I could be.

If I haven’t already fucked everything up.

“I’ll tell her who you really are,” she threatens, her eyes narrowing to slits.

With a deep breath, I keep my temper in check. As usual, when it comes to conversations with this woman, my patience is waning. Why did I ever think I could confide in Mia? I’d hoped money could control her mouth, but maybe I was wrong.

Darting a glance at my clenched fists, she drops her hands to the Formica tabletop and relents. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t actually do that,” she rushes out.

I sigh. “Any idea where she could be staying?”

She shrugs. “She’s not close with her family…not that she’s ever introduced me. I think she’s embarrassed…” She trails off and looks away.

Grabbing her hand, I lean forward and duck my chin until she’s looking at me. “Be her friend, Mi. That’s what she wants from you. Be her friend.”

Her green eyes soften. “You really care about her, huh?”

I release her hand and scrub at my forehead. “Yeah, I really do.”

She doesn’t have to ask why. Mia sees Cat just as I do. But she had her chance. Now I want mine.

She sighs. “She used to talk about some apartment in Boston she’d use when she needed to get away. She said it was empty. You could try there,” she suggests. I’m on my feet before she finishes her thought. “Wait, you know where it is?” she asks, her brow furrowed.

I shrug. “Think so.”

And for the first time ever, heading toward James Headquarters sends a bolt of excitement through me.

Twenty-Four

Cat

Yellow by Coldplay

Ileave brunch stuffed and perfectly confused. Cash gives me a hug and tells me to call him later. Being the incredible brother he is, he knows something is off. And I want to talk to him. I want to confide in him. Just not yet.

I need time to wrap my head around all things Jay first.

I walk down Commonwealth Avenue, pulling my caramel tweed coat tight around me as the wind whips my long dark hair into my face. I push my hair back and stare up at the cloudy October sky. Auburn-colored leaves swirl around my booted feet as I trudge slowly toward the penthouse.

Along with burnt-orange colors and pumpkin flavors ushered in by the fall weather, I love the wardrobe. Boots and cozy jackets, a signature scarf for a pop of color. The cloudy day fits perfectly with my mood. I dig my hands into my pockets, still trying to wrap my head around Jay when I catch sight of a figure hovering outside the James building.

Our building is glass with brick accents. The glass is almost mirror-like, which gives me the opportunity to study the man’s face even though he’s facing the opposite direction.

Frown lines, downcast eyes, and a furrowed brow. Blond hair falling forward that he doesn’t bother to brush out of his line of sight. Jeans, a black wool coat, and loafers.

“Jay,” I gasp into the wind.

He looks up but doesn’t turn, instead choosing to study me in the mirrored glass in the same way I studied him. As if he wants a moment to prepare himself for what he’ll find when he turns around. I keep my face devoid of emotion, building barriers to keep my thoughts locked up tight. The truth is, I have no idea what I’m thinking other than he’s here. He came for me.

And I swear to God when he turns, his face relaxes in relief. The tension around his eyes softens, and his shoulders drop, like he’s been holding on to unease the same way I have. Like maybe his thoughts mirror mine, and he’s thinking she’s here. She came for me.