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“Sure. I’ll use them as a comparison, but I already have someone in mind.”
“We’d be pleased to work with whomever you chose,” Nadia says as she walks me to the door. “I’ll send the profiles over today.”
“Thanks.” I slip my cap and shades back on. “Like before, my PR firm will handle any of the press on this project. If you’re contacted, please direct the media to Asher Dumont.”
“Will do,” she agrees, aware of the drill. “I’ll call you later this week.”
We shake hands and I head to my condo located in Gold Coast, an affluent neighborhood just north of the downtown Loop. Since I won’t be long, I leave my car with a valet at the front of the building.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Peters.” The doorman tips his cap.
“Hey, George. You’re on early today.”
“Filling in for Juan.”
“Is he alright?” I ask.
“Oh yes. He just took a long weekend with his wife for their anniversary.”
“Nice.” I smile, having celebrated an amazing weekend myself.
“I haven’t seen you out jogging lately, sir.”
“I’ve been away.”
“Ah.” He nods. “That explains why Ms. Manning has been inquiring as to your whereabouts.”
Annoyed, my jaw clenches. “Has she now?”
“Every evening.”
The last time I saw my neighbor, Lisa Manning, was the night of the storm when she tried to scheme her way into my condo…and my bed. Catching sight of Dee, she created a false impression that we were lovers in an attempt to make her jealous. Instead, she triggered Dee’s hurt over my past indiscretion, and all the secrets and angry pain came thundering out. The catalyst we needed to finally get at the truth of what happened all those years ago. To pave the way to start again.
Not that I’m going to thank Lisa for any of that.
“Do you know if Ms. Manning is at home?” I ask.
“She left about an hour ago.” George’s lips twitch in a conspiratorial smile. “The coast is clear, sir.”
No denying that’s a relief. I can handle Lisa, but I’d rather not expend the energy.
I take the private elevator up to my penthouse suite. The floor to ceiling windows overlook the iconic skyline. A state-of-the art kitchen has every modern convenience and the bathrooms feature heated towel racks and marble floors. But despite the luxury, it never felt like home.
I grab two leather suitcases from the closet and pack. I’ll keep the condo for now. Work from here when I’m in the city. Leave my desktopand some clothes. To put it on the market would only draw unwanted media attention. It would definitely reach O’Malley’s radar. I can’t help but wonder again what he’s up to.
I log into my computer and view his blog and social media accounts. He still hasn’t posted anything about our confrontation on Saturday or made reference to my “mystery woman.” I should be relieved. Instead, his silence feels like the vibrating quiet that crackles the air just before the clap of a storm.
Frustration has me dragging my fingers through my hair. It has taken every ounce of restraint to standby and await his next move. But approaching O’Malley would expose him to my weakness. I won’t risk that. Dee and my family—they’re all that matter.
At four o’clock, the email from Nolan arrives. I read the notice of termination twice and only after I send the letter back with my approval, closing the door on that chapter of my life, do I feel somewhat better.
I pick up my phone and call Dee.
“Hi, Mick.” Her voice, laced with affection, slides through me like warm honey.
“Hello, Counselor.” I lean back in my swivel chair and feel myself unwind. “How has your day been?”
“Busy. But I can spare a few minutes before my conference call. How was your meeting with Pivotal?”
