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Exhaling, I say quietly, “I’ll call a cab right now.”
Chapter Twelve
Maverick
The PR event is finally here.
I'm waiting outside Noelle's house with my car parked across the street. A week ago, she took a brief personal leave stating she had to look after her sick mom, but she promised we’d still be going together, so I came to pick her up. In the meantime, she was working from home to make sure all the final arrangements got done on time.
The door opens and my jaw hits the ground.
Holy—
She's dressed like a goddess. No, sheisa goddess. Fuck, those curves! My pants are feeling the pressure of what seeing her is doing to me. Her hair is piled on top of her head and her heels complement the dress, giving her a confidence that is both sexy and awe-worthy.
I keep my eyes glued to her as she approaches, speechless. I pat myself on the back. This is the dress I sent her as an apology for springing a fake relationship on her and I made the perfect choice, if I do say so myself.
Noelle comes closer. She tucks a stray tendril behind her ear, "Hey."
My God, she smells so wonderful. Of summer nights and starry skies and a wild night with just the breeze to warm our skins as they brush against each other.
And I can’t get enough of watching her move.
She pauses and tilts her head, and I realize I haven’t given her a response aside from an open-mouthed stare. She’s probably used to it, but I have worked long and hard to be better than this at dealing with people.
“Hi,” I finally manage to say. "Uh… you— you look so beautiful." I shake my head. “No, sorry, that’s cliché, isn’t it?”
She smiles. “I’m not complaining, Mr. Thatcher.”
Pulling the passenger door open, I step aside with a flourish. “Shall we?”
She enters and I close it.
Oh, we were definitely having fun tonight. I can’t wait to see where we end up. Hopefully together in bed making up for lost time.
“So, is the flu all gone now?”
Noelle frowned. “What?”
“Your mom? You told me she had the flu?”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, that’s right. She’s doing great.”
“So, that means you’re coming back to the office soon?”
She nods, with a small smile. “Definitely.”
“Good.”
I continue driving in silence. Then I blurt out, “I missed you.”
She glances at me. “Really?”
I try to cover up my apparent neediness by saying, “Of course. Sara was up to her typical shenanigans while you were away.” I send a quick look at her, hoping to find a reaction, but her face is passive. “Not that it mattered anyway, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She nods and looks out her window. Then she quietly says, “It’s okay.”
The heavy weight of silence stretches out way too long this time around and I clench my fists around the steering wheel. Something is wrong and as painfully clear as that is, I have no idea what it can be. Is it the party? Is she having second thoughts? We had a deal about tonight and last time we were together, I had her bent over my desk, but we said goodbye on a good note, so what happened? Tonight was supposed to be about us being happy and content. That’s our default when we’re in the public eye. Anything else and it’s an invitation for unsolicited gossip.
