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“The only talents of yours I am interested in my family enjoying are in the kitchen,” Nicolette said.
“Mrs. Cress, I refuse to be insulted in my home. It can fit inside your pantry, but it’s mine,” Jillian asserted.
No nonsense until the end.
Nicolette chuckled. It was mocking. “And my son might fit inside you, buthe’smine, and I do not want this thing between you to get out of hand.”
He turned and dug through the pile of clothing for his underwear and suit pants. He was ready to confront his mother. “This is bull—”
He paused in jerking on his boxers at the sound of the front door sliding closed. He felt like a fool, frozen like a deer in headlights in Jillian’s cramped bathroom, waiting to hear what was going on. He pulled his boxer briefs up, dropped the black pants, and opened the door to step out.
Jillian, locking the front door, glanced back over her shoulder. “She’s gone, Cole.”
“I figured that out since I was in the only hiding place in here,” he said, standing with his hands on his hips.
She smiled at him as she crossed her arms over her chest and made her way to one of the three expansive arched windows of her apartment.
“I’m sorry about that, Jillian,” he said. “I had no idea my mother would ever pull such a stunt.”
“It’s not your fault, Cole,” she said, leaning against the window, the city’s nightscape as her background.
He walked to her and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her back against his body. “She left before I could set her straight about this stunt,” he said, eyeing Jillian’s reflection. “But I will as soon as I see her. I can’t believe she insulted you like that.”
He frowned at her continued silence.
“Cole—” Jillian raised her eyes to lock with his in the window “—I’m going to take the job.”
His frown deepened as he stepped back, releasing her from his grasp. His jaw worked in rising irritation as he realized that Jillian was putting her ambition before him.
What was it she’d said at the restaurant?Suddenly this thing of ours has developed strings.
Right. They were never meant to last.
Although he and Traci had been in a relationship, Jillian’s choice felt like a similar betrayal. Not as callously calculated as Traci’s machinations...
Or was it?
She turned and leaned back against the window as she stared at him, asserting, “It’s an opportunity that I can’t pass up, Cole.”
Still...
It stung.
He released a bitter chuckle and shook his head before turning to cross the room to enter the bathroom.
He dressed and made a conscious effort to not let his anger toss her clothing. That would be childish. He was sardonic at times and could find humor where most could not, but he wasn’t silly. As he smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket, he eyed himself in the mirror above the sink. In the reflection, he saw the truth of his anger at Jillian.
And his hurt.
Cole cleared his throat and forced away the emotion lining his face.
It was not his first time looking betrayal in the face.
But it will be the last.
He left the bathroom. “Have a good life, Jillian,” he said, taking long strides to the door.
She rushed across the space to stand in front of him. “Cole, talk to me,” she urged, clenching his upper arms.
