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“There’s a Mr. Simon on the phone for you from the Met.” Jessica’s voice didn’t waver. “I wouldn’t interrupt, sir, if it was anyone else.”
Grant looked down at Alexandra.
“Don’t leave. We have a lot more to discuss.”
The command saddened her even as it rankled. Exhaustion dragged her body down into a high-backed chair as Grant released her and left the office, closing the door behind him. She was so very tired. Tired of the past always catching up; tired of people telling her what to do; tired of not standing up for herself and doing the right thing.
You can do the right thing now.
She mentally ran through her list. Today’s picnic was the final event before the Hamptons guests returned to the city. The flowers were set out. If Pamela would take care of packing up the flowers and delivering them to the local hospital for patients’ rooms once the event was concluded, then Alexandra could leave. Pamela would want answers later, but she would do it.
Because whatever Grant had to say to her wouldn’t matter. Whether he agreed that their little fling was over or, in her wildest dreams, convinced her to stay, the result was still the same. He’d never be able to truly forgive her, never be able to stop wondering if she truly loved him. They would be caught in an endless loop of incredible, passionate highs and horrifying, heartbreaking lows.
He deserved better. She did, too, despite all her faults and mistakes. Being stuck in a relationship where the past would always be lurking in the background wouldn’t be full of love and joy. It would be hell.
She grabbed a notepad off his desk and jotted a quick note. As she slipped out of the office and walked up the back stairs to her room, she texted Pamela to make arrangements for the flowers. Focusing on her to-do list helped keep her mind off the fact that her patched-up heart was once more breaking into tiny pieces, pieces she would never be able to put back together again.
As she neared the top of the stairs, her focus still on her phone, she missed the last step and tripped. She stumbled forward and caught herself on the wall. She looked down and almost gave in to the sudden, hysterical urge to laugh as she looked at her bare foot and then back at the shoe lying on the floor.
Had she imagined herself as Cinderella just days ago, a princess in a fairy tale where true love conquered all? She kicked the other heel off, snatched them both off the floor and hurried down the hall to her room. She placed the shoes in the closet and peeled off the dress, reaching for her jeans and T-shirt.
Fairy tales weren’t real. True love certainly had no place in her life. If she wanted to move forward, she would have to close the door on her foolish dreams for a happily ever after once and for all. Which, she acknowledged as she stuffed her items into her suitcase, meant saying goodbye to Grant Santos forever.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
GRANTGLANCEDDOWNat his phone for what had to be the dozenth time in the past hour. The screen remained dark. He squelched the urge to tap out a text. It had been three days since he’d returned to an empty office and a brief note from Alexandra.
A very brief, professional note. He’d pulled it out and read it over and over again until the paper had turned soft with crinkles running through the loopy cursive.
Mr. Santos,
Staff with La Meilleure will take care of flowers from the picnic. I will collaborate with Laura and Jessica on arrangements for the Met gala.
Moving forward, a strictly professional relationship would be in both of our interests and the interests of our respective companies.
Thank you for the opportunities you’ve provided me.
Sincerely,
Miss Moss
Anger had curled through his veins, hot and furious. Miss Moss? She dared to sign “Miss Moss” when just hours before she’d dashed off that note she’d been moaning his name and raking her nails down his back as she’d arched her hips against his thrusts.
He yanked open his desk drawer, threw his phone in and slammed it shut. He’d realized almost as soon as he’d revealed his reason for hiring her that the most logical explanation was the one Alexandra had just given; that the whole situation was a misunderstanding, a misguided attempt to protect him. As he’d left to take the phone call, he’d even started to formulate an apology for jumping to the worst possible conclusion.
Except she’d left. Fled rather than stay and talk to him. Again.
He scrubbed a hand over his face as he leaned back in his chair. How could he blame her for leaving? He hadn’t given her a chance to explain. He’d jumped down her throat and said horrible things. Just as she had nine years ago, except she had been trying to protect him and his mother. His words had been born out of nothing more than pride and a feeble attempt to protect his heart.
To add salt to a very deep wound, he’d walked up to her room twenty minutes later to find her gone and every piece of clothing and jewelry he’d purchased left behind.
Including the sage green gown.
Desgraçado, he cursed himself.
Why had he ignored everything screaming at him that she truly was the same kind, thoughtful woman he’d fallen for?
No, he amended. The woman Alexandra had become was even more intoxicating than the Alexandra he had fallen in love with all those years ago. Young Alexandra had been sweet, loving and passionate. The grown-up Alexandra still had those qualities, but she was more confident, self-assured. More herself.
