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“Party?” Evolet looked up then. “What party?”
“The party Damon’s hosting tonight for everyone at Bradford Global. To celebrate the Royal Air contract.”
Pain lanced through her, sharp and hot. She’d known—of course she’d known—that things were over. But it still hurt to not be invited, not after the credit Damon had given her. Just one more time she had started to feel like a part of things, to let down her guard and let herself care, only to have it taken away.
“Surely Damon invited you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Evolet replied breezily. “The audition’s at six and—”
Her phone rang as her train pulled into the station. She glanced down at the screen and frowned. Why would Samuel be calling her on a Monday? Fear bubbled in her stomach.
“Samuel?”
His sob made her go cold.
“Samuel? What is it? Where is she?”
“Hospital,” he gasped out. “Evolet, she fell and they couldn’t—”
“Which hospital?” she demanded as she turned and ran for the stairs. Audrey called out to her, but she couldn’t think, couldn’t stop to explain. As she ran up the stairs and into the light, frantically searching for a taxi, her heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe. She couldn’t lose her, couldn’t lose someone else, so soon.
Please,Constanza, just hold on. I’m coming.
The harsh scent of antiseptic mixed with burnt coffee and wilting flowers. A bland voice paged a doctor over the intercom as someone wept uncontrollably. Damon hadn’t been in a hospital since that night twelve years ago, but the smells and sounds didn’t change.
He stalked down the hall to the nurse’s station. Fear tangled with indecision, which set him further on edge. He never questioned himself, didn’t hesitate. If he made a mistake, he would examine it, find the flaws, note the successes and never repeat it again.
But now, as the cool-faced nurse looked up Constanza George’s room number, he had never felt so conflicted. When Audrey had called him spouting off about Evolet, his first reaction had been instant longing, a need spreading like lightning through his body at the mere mention of her name. It had shifted from heat to ice instantly as Audrey had told him about what she’d overheard at 116th Street station.
I should have been there.
The thought pulsed through him, digging its insidious claws into his heart a little deeper each time. How many times had he pulled his phone out, started typing out a text message inviting her to the party, asking if she’d had any auditions, checking on Constanza...?
Anything and everything that would give him just one more chance to talk with her.
He’d screwed up at the heliport. He’d known as soon as he’d held out his hand. For God’s sake, he’d taken her virginity, and he’d ended the most sensual, erotic, emotional affair of his life by shaking her damned hand?
It had been the act of a coward. He’d seen the indecision on her face, the faint hint of an emotion so deep and raw in her tawny gold eyes it had both thrilled and paralyzed him. Thrilled him because no one had ever looked at him like that. Paralyzed him because he had realized that she felt something for him, something more than just simple affection. He’d wanted it, wanted it so badly he had nearly asked her to go back with him to his penthouse, for them to find a way to make this work.
The possibility of what they could have—and lose—had scared him. So he’d made a decision in the heat of the moment.
The wrong one. One he’d been regretting since the emotion had winked out of her eyes and she’d coolly shaken his hand, turned and walked away without a backward glance. Taking a tour of the manufacturing facilities the following two weeks had been a logical step, and one that had thankfully given them space.
Coming back and learning that she had left a week early had cemented his conclusion. He’d screwed up. Bad.
But had he fixed his mistake? No, he’d just done what he’d done the first time he’d experienced such a devastating loss. He’d thrown himself into work the past week, sometimes staying the night at his office. More than once he’d woken up and reached for her, his fingers brushing empty space.
If he hadn’t been a coward, she would have called him this morning when her world had started to fall apart. He could have been there for her so she didn’t have to face the potential of loss alone again.
God, could he have been any more an idiot to let her walk away?
“Are you family?” the nurse asked, breaking through his mental self-flagellation.
“No, but—”
“Only family,” she intoned, dismissing him as she looked at something on her computer.
“I’m not officially family, but—”
