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But I’m not shopping for myself. I’m shopping for Skye. Funny how we were just talking this morning about my not lavishing gifts on her to “buy her.” Skye is Skye, and she could never be bought, and I would never want to try to buy her affections, anyway.

She consumes me, though, and part of it is me wanting to do things for her that I know will make her happy. That doesn’t always include using my money, but this time it does.

Ah. There it is. The gorgeous piece of photographic equipment pops up on my computer screen.

The Canon EOS 5D Mark IV camera complete with lens kit. I place an order for delivery this afternoon, and then I hunker down to work.

Back in my office after lunch, I finally get the phone conference with Akers rescheduled. I’m sifting through emails when a text pings through on my computer.

It’s from Skye.

I’m having dinner with Tessa tonight. Will I see you later?

I glance down at my calendar. Between the day trip to L.A., the Foster McCain deal, and everything with Skye, I forgot today was Friday. Dinner with my father is, in fact, tomorrow evening.

I’m a little miffed that Skye made dinner plans without me on a Friday night, but I should have mentioned dinner this morning. This isn’t like the last time, when Christopher told her I’d be back from L.A. in the afternoon and I expected her to understand that I wanted to see her for dinner. This time I said nothing. We made no plans at all. So I calm myself, inhale a deep breath. I’m in my email account, so I decide to reply to her text in an email.

Hi, Skye,

I just got your text. Have a nice dinner with Tessa. Yes, you’ll see me later. I’ll swing by your place at nine.

Braden

Not a huge deal. I’ll take dinner at my desk this evening—I can use the extra work time, as usual—and I’ll see Skye at her place and…

I look up when Claire knocks on my open door.

“This came for you,” she says, bringing in a large package.

“Thanks.” I rise and take the box from her.

I smile.

The surprise I ordered for Skye. The Canon EOS 5D Mark IV camera complete with lens kit.

I know she’ll love it.

I hand the box back to Claire. “This is for Skye. Could you open it and wrap it for me in a gift bag?”

“Sure thing.” Claire smiles. “Skye is a lucky woman. Do you want to add a card or anything?”

“Yeah, I should do that.” I hastily peel off a sheet from a notepad and write a quick note.

For my favorite photographer. Love, Braden

I hand the note to Claire.

And I can’t wait to see the look on Skye’s face when she opens it tonight.

Chapter Fifteen

It’s a few minutes before nine p.m. when Christopher drops me off at Skye’s building. The gift bag holding the camera in hand, I make my way to her door and knock.

No response.

I knock again. Harder.

Still no response.

Hmm. Okay, she’s running a few minutes late. No big deal. I can wait here in the hallway for her. I pull out my phone and check her Instagram to see what she’s been up to, and I find—

Nothing.

Not a freaking post.

My heart thumps. This isn’t normal. If Skye is out having dinner with Tessa, she would most likely post something for her followers.

But I’m not one to worry out of turn. Perhaps they were deep in conversation and she wasn’t thinking about posting. Perhaps they were deep in conversation about Tessa meeting Ben. Or deep in conversation about Skye’s relationship with me. Not something I’m completely comfortable with, but I understand women can be different from men. Many of them prefer to talk to each other about relationships.

Ad fucking nauseam.

I take a few minutes to case the hallway. I’m always on the lookout for Addison. She watches both Skye and me. I wish there were something I could do about it, but unfortunately, I’m kind of stuck due to circumstances put in place long ago. Everything’s clear as far as I can tell, so I pull up Addie’s Instagram.

Nothing to see there. Just her fake smile and sponsored posts. At least she’s not pretending to drink coffee. Man, that put me over the edge the last time, but I can’t help but be grateful for her lies. They led me to Skye.

I’ve had more than enough of Instagram, so I gravitate to email. Skye hasn’t bothered to answer the email I sent her earlier. What the hell is she doing? Does she think she’s punishing me?

I scoff out loud. That isn’t how this works. I’ll make sure she understands that when she gets home, which should be soon.

I peruse a few more emails and then check the time. Nine thirty.

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