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Nara rounds the corner with a cup of coffee in each hand. She gives me one before she hands Nigel the other.
I take my first sip. “This hits the spot. Thank you, Nara.”
“You’re welcome.” She eyes the pastries. “You’re in a much better mood than Mr. Bane was this morning.”
I let out a slight chuckle. “You talked to him?”
“I talked to him,” she affirms with a nod. “He didn’t talk to me, but that’s typical.”
Nigel picks up a lemon pastry. “Mr. Bane is not a morning person.”
“Is it all right if I steal the raspberry one for me and the strawberry one for Birch?” Nara asks tentatively.
Nigel turns to look at her. “Alcott does love the strawberry filled ones.”
Nara smiles. “I haven’t seen him since he went down to the garage with Mr. Bane. Did he pick you up from home this morning, Juliet, or was it Drew?”
“I took a rideshare when I left here earlier and another on my way back,” I let that slip.
“You were here earlier?” Her face brightens. “I knew there was something there, Juliet. He bought you these beautiful flowers.”
My gaze travels over the fragrant bouquets on the table next to the pastry box.
“There is something,” I whisper.
“Mr. Bane was in the garage?” Nigel turns to Nara. “Did he take the car?”
“What car?” I ask.
“The BMW,” Nigel says casually. “Mr. Bane takes it for a drive sometimes.”
“It usually means a few days off for us.” Nara laughs. “He drives upstate and takes a few personal days.”
Why would he do that now?
I curse inwardly wishing I had woken him up instead of going home.
I press my finger against my phone’s screen again to connect a call to Kavan. For the second time, it goes through to voicemail after a few rings.
Part of me wants to run out of here and chase after him, but I don’t know which direction to head.
“I’ll be in my office,” I tell Nigel and Nara as I set off in that direction.
“I’ll bring in a coffee right away, Juliet,” she calls after me.
As I near my office door, I try calling Kavan again.
It rings once and then again.
I stop just as I reach the open door to my office.
I pull my phone away from my ear but the ringing continues. In fact, it’s louder because sitting on the edge of my desk, next to my open laptop is Kavan’s phone.
Chapter Forty-Six
Juliet
I drop into my chair and scoop Kavan’s phone into my hand.
Notifications crowd the screen including three indicating the calls I just made.
I set the phone down, unsure of what’s going on.
“I brought your coffee,” Nara says as she enters my office. “I’ll put it here.”
I nod because I can’t find the words to thank her.
I feel numb, and confused.
I glance at Kavan’s phone again when another notification pops up but I don’t read it. That’s not my business.
Staring at the darkened screen of my laptop, I see my reflection.
I look nothing like I looked an hour ago when I caught sight of myself in the mirror after my shower.
My hair was wet, my bottom lip marked with a red spot from Kavan’s teeth. My eyes were bright and a smile was stuck on my mouth.
Now, my reflection is marred with concern.
I tap a finger on the keyboard to chase away that sight.
I’m worrying too much. He’s likely fine.
Maybe he rushed out to get something and forgot his phone behind.
He probably walked into my office because he was looking for me when he realized I hadn’t crawled back into his bed.
I take a soothing sip of the hot coffee before my gaze drifts back to my laptop.
This can’t be right.
Panic darts through me as I read the headline of the article on the screen.
My Mr. Bane.
I read the first line in a whisper. “I fell in love with Kavan Bane.”
Sucking in a deep breath to try to chase away the approaching tears, I continue, “I met Kavan Bane in an alley. He saved my life. When I saw him again, weeks later, he changed my life.”
I read on, silently, remembering when I wrote each word.
The emotion tied to each sentence bubbles up to the surface.
It’s my vision of the man that the world thinks they know. It’s tender, revealing, and heartfelt. I poured everything into this article.
There’s no mention of Ares Bane or his death because that’s a chapter in the life story of a man who has pulled himself up from the depths of heartbreak to finally move from that darkness into the light.
It’s a testament to the man who deserves to be loved, and is loved by me.
As I read the final word, my hands tremble on my lap.
“Kavan read this,” I whisper. “He read this.”
I dart from the chair, shove my phone in my pocket, and scoop my purse and Kavan’s phone into my hands.
