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“Educating future innovators,” she says, “A project by the Frobisher Society geared toward sponsoring science education for at risk children in the state of New York. The fundraising gala is taking place in two days.”
“Yes. I want Cora on the guest list.”
“Cora Banks. Your Ex-wife.”
I press my lips together. “Yes.” It says a lot about my fixation on Cora, that years after our separation and divorce, my computer-generated assistant knows exactly who she is to me.
“I’m composing an email to Mary Randall.”
Mary used to be my assistant. Now she is a senior manager at our public relations division. She’s also a good friend, and though she’s very opinionated, I’m certain she won’t ask too many questions about my sudden desire to procure a seat for Cora at an event I will be attending.
“Good,” I tell Mia. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome…and email sent.”
I rise from my desk and pour myself some more scotch. The office in the penthouse suite is richly furnished in bright colors that contrast with my dark mood. The other rooms in the suite aren’t much better. Warm, bright decor is almost tortuous when your heart is as alone and bare as a naked soul in an icy desert.
My heart.
Destroyed by Cora.
Not that I haven’t had companionship in the years since Cora. My success means I can have whoever I want, and I have dated some of the most beautiful women in the world, but I barely remember them. The only woman who still has a distinct quality in my mind is the one who betrayed me and still hates my guts.
I can’t wait to see her again.
There’s a beep on my phone. An email.
Just received an email from Mia about getting Cora an invitation to the Frobisher Society gala. Are you sure? I don’t want to interfere, but I thought that chapter was closed, and you had moved on. I know I’m no longer your assistant, but do you need the distraction?
So much for not interfering. I swallow my annoyance and tell myself Mary’s asking as a friend, not as an employee.
I type a quick reply.Just do it.
There’s no response and I assume she’ll do what she’s told. I cradle my glass in my hand, watching amber liquid swirling inside it. Soon.
Soon, Cora, we’ll be in the same room again.
And I can’t wait to see your face.
CHAPTER22
CORA
“He just walked into the museum?” Marie sounds incredulous. It’s the day after my encounter with Tristan, and on the other side of the glass partition from my office, Tana still looks shell-shocked by my confession. Every so often, she steals a glance in my direction, with an expression like she’s seeing me for the first time.
I sigh.I’mstill shell-shocked from running into Tristan. Why did he come here? What does he want? I took the rest of the day off after seeing him because a part of me just couldn’t handle acting like he hadn’t turned my world upside down.
“I can’t believe it,” Marie continues.
Me neither.“Apparently, he had a meeting with Peter. It makes no sense. I’m still a little rocky from the whole thing.”
“You were always a little rocky on your feet around him,” she jokes.
I don’t laugh. I hate that she’s reminding me. “If only I could just wish him away and he’d disappear.”
Marie sighs. The amusement in her voice gives way to sympathy. “Maybe since he’s had his meeting, you won’t see him again?”
“I hope so.”
