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Unexpectedly, I notice a few lights visible through the frosted rectangles of glass set into the paneled oak doors.
“Who would be here this early on the weekend?” Liam’s murmur shatters the stillness.
“No idea,” I mouth.
Thick carpeting helps us move soundlessly down the corridor to my office. My chest pounds, my hand shaking as I focus on opening the door. When I fumble, dropping the key as I try to fit it into the lock, I drop to my knees. The desperate scrabble in the dark leaves me breathless. Once inside, I collapse, unable to move another step.
When “Oh Canada” pours out of my purse, I can hardly lever the phone out and accept the call. A gurgle is the most I can manage.
“Micki? Ma chouette? You there?”
“Y-e-e-es,” I manage through the lump that is clogging my throat. I slide off my knees and sit on the floor with my back against the wall, legs stretched out.
“We’re taking off in a few minutes. I wanted to say goodbye. If I could, I would kiss you senseless and drag you onto the plane, so I suppose the fact you are not here is saving you.”
His voice is soothing, and my heartbeat has finally slowed. “I wish I was there too,” I say, a little hitch in my voice. “Two weeks and we’ll be in Paris.”
“If we had time, I would show you everything. Three days isn’t enough, especially with the dinner.”
Maybe we can find time to go back.Fingers crossed, I don’t say it out loud. Who knows how long this will last? I’m starting to think my investment is greater than I imagined. A scary thought since I’m really not ready to jump into a new relationship this soon. Between my job issues and Sam, too much is already going on in my life. JL would be an additional complication.
“I will call you every day,” he promises.
“Safe travel,” I tell him and ring off.
Minutes pass, but I’m paralyzed.
Liam comes in with coffee to go with our rapidly cooling breakfast sandwiches. Once he’s put the cups down and closes the door, he glances down. “Need some help up?”
I reach up a hand and he pulls me to my feet.
Then someone knocks on my door. Panic rises back up from my gut. Lights off. Who would even know I’m here? Sam? He would have had to follow me, but I doubt he could have gotten past the guard who checks visitors in and out. Especially on a Sunday.
Another knock. “Hey,” a familiar voice calls. “I’m pretty sure you’re in there, Micki.”
A bolt of adrenaline surges through me and I pull open the door. Hayden. Fuck. Just what I don’t need.
“You want me to scare him off?”
I can’t tell if Liam is serious or joking. I’m tempted but shake my head no.
“Thought you’d be here,” he says smugly.
Self-conscious that I’m dressed in sweatpants, New Balance walking shoes, and a long-sleeved tee emblazoned with “Looking for Cache in the Wrong Places,” I gaze at my colleague, who’s dressed for a weekday business meeting in a navy jacket that looks vaguely nautical, beige twill slacks, Oxford shirt, and deck shoes. Deck shoes?
“What’s the shirt mean?’
“Geocaching. I’ve done it a couple of times and got a shirt at an event.”
He gives me the “that’s really boring” look and barely keeps from yawning.
“Going yachting?” I ask.
“I am, as a matter of fact. Fred has a boat out in Montrose Harbor and invited me for a little boating party he’s having. It’s kind of work. A few of the partners will be there, and our favorite congressman.”
“I didn’t think the boats were out yet.”
“He had it down in Florida and now it’s back here. Didn’t need to wait for bridge day.”
