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There is some oncoming foot traffic on the sidewalk, so I have to step out of the way, I move towards the curb, closer to where Landon is standing. “What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice thick and rough.
He looks closely at my eyes, and I wonder how obvious it is that I spent the night in tears. A small frown touches his brow, and I can tell that he hasn’t missed a thing. He starts to come closer to me, and the slight movement instantly raises my heart rate. I flinch, and he stops himself, instead thrusting his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels.
His voice is low and quiet. “I wanted to talk.”
I shake my head. My commitment to staying away from him is so shaky that I don’t trust myself to spend enough time with him to ‘talk.’ “I’m late for work,” I tell him, hoping that would be sufficient for him to leave me alone.
He takes a step towards me, closing the small distance between us. I pull in a breath, and my senses are assaulted by all the familiar scents. The faint whiff of his cologne, the delicious hint of soap and shampoo… I breathe, concentrating on the small frown he still has on his face. “I’ll take you to your office,” he suggests. “We can talk in the car.”
I contemplate sharing that small space with him, and I shake my head again. “No. Thanks.”
His quick intake of breath is followed by a frustrated hand running through his hair. “Rachel,” he says, his voice a study in patience, “Why are you making this so hard?”
It became hard the moment I fell in love with you, I say silently. Behind me on the sidewalk, people walk past us, and it makes me think how awkward we must look, just standing on the street.
“Fine,” I concede, walking past him to the car. I slide to the far side and adjust my skirt while I wait for him to join me. Landon’s preferred chauffeur, Joe, is behind the wheel, his crew cut visible from the back.
“Good morning, Joe,” I greet, my voice sounding churlish even to me.
“Good morning, Miss Foster,” Joe replies cheerfully.
The door closes with a barely audible click as Landon joins me at the back, and before the car starts to move, Joe plugs in a pair of earbuds. I fix my gaze outside the window, determined to resist the urge to feast my eyes on Landon’s perfection, but every nerve in my body is aware of him, right beside me, so close, so gorgeous, so… everything I want.
You’re in love with him, I tell myself, trying to be sensible. He doesn’t feel the same way, and there’s absolutely no chance he ever will. He can’t give you what you want, and you know, he’ll only hurt you in the long run.
What could ever hurt more than leaving him hurts now? Temptation whispers the words in my head, and I do my best to ignore them. I’m doing the right thing for me, I assure myself. Why postpone the pain that will surely come? Why keep holding on to a man who’ll only want me for a short while?
The car joins the traffic heading Midtown, and I’m so acutely aware of Landon, of the waves of sensual energy coming from his body, and of the desire growing low in my belly. I’m almost afraid to move. The silence stretches, along with my nerves.
“You’re still going out with Weyland tonight?”
The question makes me turn to look at him. He’s facing straight ahead, his fingers splayed on his lap. His body looks as stiff as mine feels. I close my fists, fighting the ache in my fingers from my desire to touch him, to feel the skin of his face, to smooth the silk of his hair… to allow my heart to win over my head.
Instead, I respond to his question. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
He doesn’t reply.
I turn back to the window. The truth is, I’m in no mood to see Jack, especially considering the state of my emotions at the moment. Jack had warned me about falling in love with Landon. It had been ridiculous and presumptuous, coming from him, but still, if he caught any inkling that things were not perfect, he would take it as proof that he’d been right.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I already told him I would.”
There is another long silence, and I wonder what he’s thinking. I steal a glance at him and catch him looking at me.
“What did Weyland say to you at the Swanson Court, the day we met?”
The question takes me by surprise, and I shake my head, confused. “I don’t think that has anything to do with…”
“Please,” Landon stops me. “Rachel, I’m trying to understand your… relationship with him, and why he keeps coming up between us.”
Us.Such a small word, but at that moment, it almost destroys me. I breathe. “I don’t think it makes any difference…” I stop talking, the intense burn in Landon’s eyes telling me that he won’t stop until I tell him the truth. “He told me he was engaged,” I say quietly.
Landon nods. “You were in love with him.”
It’s a statement, not a question. I don’t reply. I’d thought I was in love with Jack, but I’d been wrong. What I’d felt for Jack at the time was nothing compared to the emotions coursing through me now.
Landon isn’t done. His eyes are still on mine, searching and demanding answers. “Tell me what happened between you two.”
It doesn’t matter, I say silently. It ceased to matter the moment those elevator doors opened, and I saw you standing there. “I met him when I went to work at Gilt. We started seeing each other, and we stopped after about two months,” I shrug. “But we stayed friends.”
