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My heart twisted in my chest.And she chose him. She chose him over you.I swallowed the angry feelings and stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Do you think he’s going to try to reach out?”
“I don’t know. But he doesn’t know where I am. So that, at least, is a comfort.”
We rode down in the elevator in intimate silence. I felt closer to her than ever, which didn’t make sense. Because the gulf of Eli and her current life still stretched between us.
I was nothing if not loyal. Even to the woman who’d hurt me most.
Which was why I escorted her out of the building, and into the back of my Escalade. Harry only tipped his hat to us as we got in, thank God. Harry knew everything about us. The good, the bad, and thewe’d rather forget. Which meant sometimes, when he was being saucy, he loved to bring up embarrassing moments. And he had plenty of dirt on just how heartbroken I’d been over Cora.
He’d joined our team way back in the beginning, just as our business started exploding with big-ticket clients. At that point, the pain of my breakup with Cora still resurfaced on occasion, which meant he’d heard a drunken rant or fifty about how much I hated her and anything Margulis. Harry was old-school—he insisted on wearing the black suit, the chauffer hat, all of it. I wasn’t gonna argue with his ancient ass, as long as he continued acting as a vault for the occasional Fairchild messes and drunken confessions.
“Cora, meet Harry. He’s been with us for a long time.”
“Seven years,” Harry piped up. “Though it feels more like a hundred.”
“You mean because time just flies with how much you love us?” I cracked, meeting Harry’s amused gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, we’ll go with that,” he said wryly.
“It’s great to meet you, Harry.” Cora sent him a genuine smile, some of the sparkle of her regular veneer returning. “I appreciate you taking me home.”
“Where to?” he asked, and Cora rattled off the name of the hotel. Once the SUV was in motion, Cora busied herself with getting to know Harry. Where was he from (Scranton, PA), what did he love most about working with us (our annual Christmas party), where had we all met (repeat drunk taxi rides after grad school).
I smiled out the window, content to fade into the background of their conversation. It was nice to just listen to Cora. Her voice was like poetry, even when she didn’t try. Especially when she didn’t try. Being in my own space and hearing Cora laughing at something Harry said—it felt surreal. I wanted to lap it up before the fantasy ended.
“Looks like we’re almost there,” Cora said, peering out the window. She smiled over at me. “Thanks for the ride.”
I reached out to take her hand, swiping my thumb over her knuckles. “Any time.”
Her gaze dropped to our hands, then she looked back up at me. I could almost hear the request on her lips. Unspoken sentiments swarmed the air between us like invisible bees. But when Harry pulled up to the curb, the big doors of a Westin hotel visible through the passenger side windows, she pulled her hand away.
“Don’t forget what I said,” I told her once she pushed the door open. “My brothers and I, we’re here for you.”
She smiled over her shoulder at me, then stepped onto the sidewalk. “I’m in room 1046,” she said. “If you ever want to visit.” She waved at Harry and me before shutting the door and heading for the gleaming doors. People streamed past her on the sidewalk, but I kept sight of her until she was swallowed up inside the building.
A sigh escaped me as Harry eased back into traffic.
“So that’s her, huh?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I dragged a hand down my face, already wondering what the fuck I’d gotten myself into. “That’s the one.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CORA
It felt wrong to float up to my hotel room the way I did.
I was in the middle of a personal crisis. A complete unraveling of my life. I shouldn’t feelhappy.
Yet I did. Axel had that way about him. He filled me up, even when he didn’t mean to. Maybe especially when he didn’t mean to.
And I was grateful for it. Because I wasn’t just running on E. My entire life was a wisp away from shuddering to a stop altogether. And here I was, floating up to my hotel room on the top floor of the Westin, on cloud nine.
I had a whole mess of a tangle ahead of me to sort out, but I felt secure for now. For the first time in a long time.
Someone out there supported me because he cared. Not because he was legally obligated to do so. Not because it would be bad press if he didn’t. Not because people would talk if he didn’t show the world a certain image.
The taupe-and-shadow floral pattern of the carpet carried me toward my room. I’d selected this hotel on a whim, the first place my rattled brain could think to go after I’d thrown my things together and left the condo Saturday night.
