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“You’re my lover,” she breathes, completely exasperated. She should try livingmylife. “Who happens to be a client.”
A person’s lover is a person they fuck. She’s my life. My best friend. “I am more than your lover.” I watch, waiting for her to agree. She doesn’t. Instead, she sighs loudly and starts to turn away from me. “I need to get back to work.”
I reach for her, stopping her, but she remains with her back to me, making a point. A stupid fucking point. Okay, so I walked into this without really thinking it through. Okay, I marked my territory. Okay, I knowingly put her in an awkward position. But what the fuck else was I supposed to do? Just sit back and let another man, a man who hates me, walk on in and make a move on my woman? My list of transgressions is lengthy, admittedly, but my cause is genuine, and she went one better anyway.
I move, since she’s holding her ground, being stubborn, placing my big body before her. “You encouraged him on purpose.”
Her eyes close briefly, her cheeks pulsing from her harsh bite. Then she looks at me, and I’m caught off guard by her watery gaze. “Why?” she asks, swallowing.
Oh shit. No, I didn’t expect tears. Only defiance. I drop my eyes, shame creeping up on me. “Because I love you.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“Yes, it is,” I argue, showing her my outrage. It’s the best reason. “And anyway, he’s a known womanizer.”
“You can’t hijack every meeting I have with a male client.”
“I won’t, just him.” Although if he’s smart, I won’t need to. “And any other man who may be a threat,” I add, just to put it out there, just so she’s prepared. I’m a tolerant man. I can take a lot, but other men dribbling over Ava isn’t one of those things. Never will be, and that’s something she has to accept.
“I have to go.” She battles in my hold to free herself.
“I’ll take you. Collect your things.” I help gather her papers from the table, avoiding the incredulous glare coming my way. “These are really very good,” I say, peeking over my shoulder, smiling. The glare’s gone. She’s daydreaming now, lost in thought, looking despondent and sad. I really am my own worst enemy but, again, what the fuck was I supposed to do?
Collecting her motionless form, I walk her out and nod to the valet. I constantly flick my wary eyes to Ava while we wait for my car to be delivered, checking her persona. She’s completely withdrawn. I put her in the passenger seat, fasten her seat belt and get in, driving her back to work in silence. She says nothing when she gets out. Not one word. It’s kind of worse than being yelled at.
I watch her walk back to her office, looking weighed down.Fuck. A car up the road pulls out of a space, so I take the opportunity and slip in. I jog to the florist around the corner and burst through the door. “Mr. Ward,” the girl sings, walking straight to the display vases and pulling out some calla lilies. “What’s the card to say today?”
My nose wrinkles. “Sorry.”
She whirls around. “Oh no.” I can see she’s desperate to ask what I’ve done to warrant an apology. I won’t entertain her.
“Add an ish on the end.”
“Huh?” she says on an unsure laugh. “You’re only sorry... ish?”
“Exactly.” I slap some cash on the counter. “Can you take them over now?” I flash another twenty at her and she beams at me. “Thanks.” I leave the florist and head back to my car, slipping in and pulling off.
But I slam on my brakes toward the end of the road when I look up to my rearview mirror and see a woman crossing. “What?” I whisper, blindly reaching for my door handle and opening, my eyes fixed on her, following her to the other side of the street. I jump out and run after her, my heart going crazy in my chest as I dodge cars and people, my eyes never leaving her back. I reach out, closing in, grabbing her arm, and she swings around on a gasp.
I drop her and step back as she looks me up and down. “Can I help you?” she asks, moving back too, out of the reach of the crazy man.
Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with me? I shake my head, my eyes dropping to my Grensons and darting. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
I quickly turn and head back to my car before she can scream for help, rubbing at my stomach, laughing lightly at myself. I really am losing my fucking mind.
Beep!
I follow the sound of the angry horn, seeing a cabbie pulling out and around my abandoned car, shouting some unpleasant shit at me as he passes. It goes way over my head. I look back over my shoulder, shuddering. I would say I need a drink but...
Yeah. Can’t do that.
21
I sit at my desk,haunted, unable to shake away the unrest inside. It wasn’t her. Just my mind playing games on me. It isn’t the first time, and I expect while I’m sober it won’t be the last. Can’t say I’m a fan.
I look up when Sarah walks in, her heels slowing to a stop when she sees me at my desk. “Okay?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I get up and wander over to the drinks cabinet. I stop when I realize I’m working on autopilot, out of habit and nothing more. I stare at the bottles. Bend and open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. I twist the cap off, holding my breath through the discomfort in my hand. “I thought I saw someone today,” I blurt out, needing to get it off my chest. Unlucky for me, I don’t have many people to vent to and Sarah...knows. “Twice, actually.”
