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I move through the day on autopilot then lie in bed for hours without being able to sleep. Maybe if we’re together a few more times I can purge her from my system. I never needed a woman like I need her and it drives me absolutely crazy.
Without her beside me to warm my body and heart, I spend a restless night tossing and turning, the little sleep I manage to get marred by nightmares of McKenzie drifting from me.
When I walk into the Astor building the next morning, I’m exhausted, and more of a bear than usual. My employees know me well enough to read the look on my face. Not one person tries to speak to me as I storm past them into my office. They know from experience it’s best for all concerned if they let me be.
I sit at my desk and attempt to get down to some actual work, or at least to look as if I’m doing so. After ten minutes of wasted effort, I give up, drop my mouse, and surge to my feet. I need to know if McKenzie’s next door.
Standing in her doorway, my spirits lift when I see exhaustion lining her face — her night wasn’t any better than mine. Did she miss me the night before as much as I missed her?
What if the vandal or vandals came back to her house? No. She’s sitting in the office. She’s fine. Or maybe she isn’t. Anyone would be rattled by the events of the day before. Or maybe I simply want the dark circles to mean she missed me.
“The driver I sent for you said you weren’t home,” I say. She looks up, but keeps her expression neutral.
“I took a cab. I told you I don’t need your help,” she says, her voice devoid of emotion. “I don’t need a free ride from a narcissist.”
“I’m losing patience with you.” I slowly walk forward like an avenging devil and shut and lock the door behind me.
She sits back, eyeing me warily. “I’m sorry. As I said, I shouldn’t be working here anymore, Byron.”
“What you should do is tell me what in the hell is going on.” I tone down my anger but I need some answers from her.
“I don’t trust people,” she tells me, her eyes filling with tears.
“Why not?”
Her tears evaporate, and she gives me a stubborn look. “It doesn’t matter, Byron, but I know better than to rely on anyone but myself.”
“You can’t do your job if you’re holding this much stress inside, McKenzie. The best thing you can do is tell someone.” I take a chair and face her.
“I can do my job just fine. Work is what keeps me focused,” she says.
“I’d be happy if I didn’t give a damn about you. I’m trying not to. But we have... something going on. I need to know what’s happening. I worry about you...” I immediately want to take the words back, but they’re out there, so I seal my lips together and wait.
“Don’t waste your time feeling anything for me, Byron. My life’s messed up. We’d be nothing but trouble together.” Her laugh is brittle and bitter.
“McKenzie... I’ve never told another woman I want to help her. I don’t try to help anyone but my brothers.” I grab her hand and rub my thumb on the delicate skin of her palm. She inhales deeply and tugs to get her hand free, but I refuse to loosen my grip. “Talk to me,” I say, and it’s more than a simple request.
Her lips part but nothing comes out. She sucks in another breath, then looks away for several moments, focusing her eyes out the window. I wait. Still she says nothing, and short of violence I don’t know how to get through to her. I really don’t need to do this to myself.
“I’m trying to be a decent guy, McKenzie, and you’re pushing me away,” I finally say.
The silence drags on for so long that I wonder whether she’s going to speak any more. Then she turns and looks at me, so much sadness in her expression that it shakes me to my core, making me wonder if I’ve gotten anything right about this woman in my time of judging her.
“I want to get back to work.” Her defeat comes through loud and clear.
“Then work it is... for today.”
I leave her office. I have a lot to think about — a lot of things I don’t want to think about. I have no idea where this is going with McKenzie, but I know one thing for sure: the surprises aren’t over. She’s getting closer to talking to me. She eventually will, and apparently it’s what I need and want. Maybe this time I’ll actually listen without judgment.
Chapter Twenty-Three
McKenzie
I’m still motionless fifteen minutes after Byron leaves. Even thinking about work seems impossible, forget about actuallydoingit. I’d been close to sharing everything with Byron, but that would be a monumental mistake. Men like him can’t be trusted — hell, men in general are best avoided.
I don’t have confidence in him or his motives, and I suspect he’s trying to gather evidence to use against me. I’d be a fool to forget who he is, to open my life and heart to the man.
I pick up my cold coffee and take a swig. I don’t care that it tastes like crap. I need the caffeine to stay alert. I can’t let down my guard or believe for a second that Byron and I shared anything more than a weekend of sex. It was good-beyond-my-wildest-imagination sex, but still only sex. If I imagine it to be anything more than that, I’m a fool. The temptation to lean on him, though, to let him support me, is almost too much to resist.
