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I stare into those blue eyes that now feature in my dreams and I think about the next twelve months. Once we get through these few weeks of not being able to touch each other, he’s not going to know what hit him. I don’t think I’ll keep my hands off him.
“Right,” I say, trying to stick to the reason I’m here. “Tahlia needs to speak with you for a minute. She asked me to get you to call her. And now that I’ve completed my mission, I shall immediately leave.”
I spin on my heel to do just that, however, Owen’s hand curls around my bicep and he stops me. When our eyes meet again, he asks, “Are you okay about next week?”
I look at his fingers that are still wrapped around my arm.
I feel them everywhere.
Everywhere.
He lets me go and I look at his face again, trying hard not to wish he hadn’t let me go.
“Yes. I’m going to spend all weekend preparing. I can do this.”
“That’s not what I’m asking, Charlize.”
“I know.” I smooth my skirt. “I’m okay.”
He takes that in for a moment before saying, “I’ll call Tahlia. Thanks.”
I do my best to ignore the apprehension flooding my body as I go back up to my desk.
Owen told me it would be detrimental to his working relationship with Jill if we become involved while I’m working for him. I don’t want to be the cause of any problems in their relationship, and I’m very concerned that flying to London and working that closely together won’t make it easy for me to stay away from him.
I’m not coming back as a gym bunny in my next life. I’m coming back as a cat.
Surely there are far less opportunities to get myself into this kind of situation as a cat.
* * *
The weekend fliesby in a blur of research and denial.
I have a haircut, a full body laser hair removal session, a manicure and pedicure, and a facial.
I research the conference Owen’s attending and the investors he’s meeting. I also research the hedge fund industry in general, giving myself a crash course in the major players, the history of the industry and returns over the last ten years, future predictions, and a range of other information that I’m sure I’ll never need. If there’s one thing I like to be with my work, it’s prepared.
By the time I arrive at my parent’s home for Sunday night dinner, I feel ready for the London trip.
I’ve fully embraced denial.
Owen and I can absolutely make it through a few days together.
We’re grown adults.
I can keep my hands to myself.
Besides, we’ll be too busy with work to even look at each other.
I really only had all those beauty treatments this weekend to pamper myself.
“Charlize.” My brother’s voice draws me from my thoughts as I walk into Mom’s kitchen. “What’s with the pajama pants?”
I look down at the baggy, floral print pants I’ve teamed with a white T-shirt that saysSorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want To Come. “You don’t like them?”
He grins. “I fucking love them. That shirt, too. Mom is sure to as well.”
I return his grin. “My thoughts exactly.”
