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“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe if I hadsomething,I wouldn’t be so irritable?” I whispered angrily.
“Never once,” he said unperturbed. “Because you have something, and you’re still a miserable twat. What happened to the promises you made to him, hmm? The ones he so badly wants you to break?”
“What is it you want to hear me say? That the thought of Daniel’s hands on my stepbrother makes me want to draw blood? That I’d never be able to settle for an intimate affair with Jasper if it meant he’d be going home to be fucked byhim?” I pointed a scathing finger in Daniel’s direction. “But that I’d do it without hesitation and pay whatever life-altering consequences and emotional penalties would come of it later because I’m fucking obsessed with him and was a fool to think this could end any other way,” I hissed, so close to him I could feel my breath rebound off his skin.
“Hey,” Leland whispered apologetically, grabbing my hand as I shoved past him. “I’m sorry. I just hate seeing you like this.”
“Then stop contributing to it,” I said unfairly. He was only being honest, but I’d had enough of his brand of honesty. It forced me to see myself for what I truly was. For what I was willing to do. It was either walk away, or run my fist into the nearest wall.
I didn’t need to look behind me to know the flame scorching my neck was coming from Jasper’s hot gaze on me. On us. I tugged free from Leland’s hold. “I’ll be back. I’m going to get some air.” I exited through the stairwell door off the reception area, needing to exert some of my frustration, and figured a thirty-floor descent would do the trick. Mitchell had reached the punchline of his joke, and raucous laughter chased me until the door closed behind me. Daniel’s scabrous guffaw could be heard in the mix.
The stale air greeted me at the side of the building where the law offices shared an alleyway with a pizza shop, its dumpster overflowing with trash and oozing a liquid substance from beneath.
A bike messenger nearly swept me off my feet as I cleared the corner to stand on the more busy street of Broadway, in front of the office building but still off to the side. A mere few feet away an older man curbed his dog—closer to the building than the actual curb.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Kincaid,” a woman’s voice chimed minutes later. I craned my head to the side to see Daniel’s assistant walking over, the revolving lobby door still spinning in her wake.
“Dog excrement everywhere, bike couriers gone rogue, disobeying traffic laws,” I complained. “Aren’t they supposed to ride in the street?” I flipped up the collar of my blazer to combat the wind. I’d escaped without my coat.
“New Yorkers make their own rules,” she said nervously, my presence probably unnerving her. She’d obviously come down for a smoke, based on the gold tin and matching lighter in her hand, and she was unlucky enough to run into me, a grumpy Cole Kincaid.
“I can walk further down,” she said, indicating the corner furthest from us and the door she’d swung through.
“It’s okay,” I replied. “The wind’s blowing west anyway.”
She cupped her French-manicured hand around the lip of the tall, slender cigarette, turning her back on the stiff breeze to spark an ember. She took a deep drag, exhaling like it’d been way too long of a day. I’d have been okay with silence, but it turned out she was the type to fill awkwardness with words.
“I really should quit,” she said. “What’s your excuse for braving the bitter cold without a coat?” Her red bun sat high and tight at the center of her head, pulling her expression into one of mild surprise.
“Just needed some fresh air,” I said, sniffing, and then adding, “although I’m not sure New York City is the place one goes for that.”
Her phone rang from within her shoulder bag, and balancing her cigarette while searching through the considerable purse proved to be too difficult, so she groaned, chucking the freshly lit smoke, nearly setting a passerby aflame. “Three voicemails?” she said, speaking to herself now. “I only heard it ring once. The service here is dreadful.” She brought the phone to her ear, listening to the messages. “Darn it,” she grumbled, pulling up her contacts and tapping at the screen. A phone rang audibly on the other end. “Pick up, pick up,” she chanted, peering up the stone façade of the building as if wondering if she could scale it, or toss a message to the thirtieth floor.
“Is everything alright?” I asked.
“That was my mother trying to reach me. She thinks she’s having a stroke,” she said with a roll of her eyes like her mother’s claim was nothing but hyperbole. “She’s on her way to the emergency room.” To herself she added, “I mean, who makes phone calls and drives herself to the ER if they’re experiencing a stroke?” She frantically dug around in her bag again, balancing the phone with her shoulder. She withdrew a flash drive, then cursed, quickly sending another glance upward.
“Do you need something from up there?”
“I was calling a colleague to see if she could check my desk for this.” She held up the flash drive. “I was hoping I’d left it there. Mr. Wardhasto have this tonight.” She chewed on her lip, confirming the time on her phone. “Maybe I can rush it upstairs and still make it to the hospital by the time my mother arrives.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I was about to head up anyway. I’ll make sure he gets it.”
“Oh no, I’ve bothered you enough, Mr. Kincaid.”
“Really, I don’t mind.”
“Thank you,” she said, already backing away. “Check his office. He was headed that way when I left.” She turned, her heels kicking up slush as she sped toward the parking garage across the street.
Leland was too busy flirting with a male intern to notice my reappearance, so I was able to seek Daniel’s office out uninterrupted. I’d gone down two corridors and peeked into three empty rooms before stumbling across Mitchell and asked him for directions.
“Let him know Parker’s looking for him, will you?” he said.
I agreed and retraced my steps to the other side of the office, stopping in front of the room with Daniel’s name on the door. Muffled moans could be heard coming from inside, and it’d just occurred to me I hadn’t seen Jasper during my walk through. Fury coursed through me, and I barged in without so much as a warning knock. “What the hell are you two doing in here?” I barked, and Daniel, who stood with his back to me as he kissed Jasper, flinched, spinning and covering Jasper with his body.
From over his shoulder, I could make out Jasper’s disheveled hair, his puffy lips, and his eyes, which now held relief. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.
“What areyoudoing here?” Daniel countered breathlessly, more in a confused than angered manner. I had the wherewithal to at least pretend at some semblance of remorse.
