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Craig Myler snorted. “It’s a waste of time. You’re spending more time and resources on a topic already discussed and agreed upon. Also, going back makes us look weak—like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”
“I understand, but disagree. Sometimes you need to really bounce ideas back and forth to make sure the end result is a good one. Besides, no one asked the residents’ opinion before, and if a large number of them decide to leave the program, that won’t bode well with PR either.”
“We’ll offer them discounted rates or special services. What is this about? You’re starting to sound like your mother, worried about what the whole world will think.”
Cole popped his knuckles, his shoulders tensing up. His father tossed the “You’re starting to sound like your mother” whenever he wanted to send a subtle message to his son. You’re sounding like the mother you took away from me. The one who committed suicide because she couldn’t cope with the pain you inflicted. The words danced in his head, ringing in his ears and sounding so damn real he had to slap his chest to get grounded and remember his father may think them, but certainly didn’t repeat them this time. Are they any less true? He tapped his chest again, wishing to find a way to untie the military grade rope knotted in there for too long. “Trust me on this. It’ll be okay.”
* * *
“Mr. Myler wants to see you in his office,” her assistant Sara said when Nikki walked into hers. “He called a couple of times to see if you’d arrived.”
Nikki placed her bag under her desk. She had taken the long route to work on purpose, and lingered in the parking lot before grabbing a cup of coffee in the lobby and at last taking the stairs to her office. A pang of annoyance squeezed her shoulders and clogged her throat whenever she thought of Cole. Her pragmatic side reminded her the deal she’d done with him the previous night had been a small victory—it would buy her time to help her reach her goal.
Was she upset because they didn’t get to have mind-blowing sex, especially after he gave her the best oral service she’d ever received? Or was it because she hated the way he’d looked at her after her twins arrived… like their make-out session would never come to fruition. Like having kids somehow made her less desirable.
“Nikki,” Sara said, raising her voice. “He called again and I said you’re on your way.”
“Oh. Fine.”
She smoothed her hand over her gray dress. It clung to her body more than intended—maybe due to the few pounds she gained in the last months—but at least it covered her from top to bottom, with long sleeves and the hem of the dress reaching her ankles. If she ever considered turning Amish, this would be the outfit she’d wear for the welcoming party.
Each step she took toward his office brought a stronger drum to her heartbeat. She’d dressed like this to feel safe, less exposed after the man who had fled her house like it was on fire had seen her vagina. Seen it and eaten it. Played it like a violin.
Memories of his hands on her, his kisses on her most sensitive spot increased her internal temperature. Each image of him unrestrained and bold, licking her, murmuring dirty words into her ear, peeled a layer of clothes until she felt absolutely bare by the time she reached his office.
Brian nodded at her with a friendly smile, talking into his headset and giving her the go-ahead to enter Cole’s domain.
She touched her stern hairstyle, her hair slicked back in a top-knot. She knocked a couple of times to announce her entrance, and without waiting for his reply, strolled into his office. “Looking for me?”
He focused on an article on his computer, then turned to her. “Please have a seat.”
She stared at the high heels she wore, the ones she’d borrowed from Violet and forgotten to return. A slip and fall or loss of balance right now would be fatal. She only wore these for Christmas parties or special occasions—which had become fewer and farther between. Stilettos were still not her friends.
When she managed to sit with an ounce of dignity, she crossed her legs and shifted on the seat until she achieved what she hoped was a confident pose. “I’m here.”
“I let the board know I’m looking into a different location for the healthy residents from Great Escape and wanted to keep you updated.”
A drop of hope spilled into her sea of doubts. Get a hold of yourself, woman. This is what you wanted—a real shot at keeping the residents close. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“You’re welcome. This isn’t a guarantee, but at least it’s out in the open that I’m actively looking. When do you think we can take a look at one of the places?”
She blinked and uncrossed her legs, only to cross them again. “I can call the real estate agent and set up an appointment.”
He smiled. “Great. Let me know when, and it’s settled.”
“All right. I’m on it,” she said, surging to her feet. “That’s all?” she asked, a silly part of her wishing he’d protest her leaving.
She drew in a long breath, staring at him. Every part of her attuned to his answer, dreading either option, but needing to hear it to convince herself.
He held her gaze, his jaw clenching. “Yes. You may go.”
She nodded, her stomach sinking to the floor. Her fingers curled into fists, and she had to mentally refrain herself from punching him for being so fucking elusive. She uncurled them and walked out of his office. Upset and frustrated, but unsure if this was the last time he would make her feel like this.
6
“So our suggestion worked?” Brit asked.
Nikki took a swig of beer in the seafood restaurant overlooking the ocean. The previous day, Cole had agreed to compromise, and since then she hadn’t but exchanged a couple of texts with him scheduling the first visit with the realtor the next day. His lack of personal conversations bothered her more than it should. She glanced at the beer, tapping the chilly glass. “I wouldn’t go that far. It backfired actually, but at least now I don’t have to lie.”
