“Come here, baby girl.”
I walked straight into him and hugged him tight, smel ing a woman’s perfume and hard sex al over him.
“Who’s the chick that just left?”
“Another model. Don’t worry about her.” He drew me into the apartment, and shut and locked the door.
“Cross cal ed. He said you were heading back and he has your keys. He wanted to be sure I was here and awake to let you in. For what it’s worth, he sounded torn up and anxious. You wanna talk about it?” Setting my purse down on the breakfast bar, I went into the kitchen. “He had another nightmare. A real y bad one. When I asked him about it he denied, he lied, then he acted like I was nuts.”
“Ah, the classics.”
The phone started ringing. I flicked the switch on the base that turned the ringer off and Cary did the same to the handset he’d left on the counter. Then I pul ed out my smartphone, closed the alert that said I’d missed numerous cal s from Gideon, and sent him a text message;
the rest of the night.
I powered the phone off and tossed it back in my purse; then I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
“The kicker is that I told him al my junk earlier tonight.” Cary’s brows shot up. “So you did it. How’d he take it?”
“Better than I had any right to expect. Nathan ought to hope they never run into each other.” I finished the bottle. “And Gideon agreed to the couples counseling you suggested. I thought we’d turned a corner. Maybe we did, but we hit a brick wal anyway.”
“You seem okay, though.” He leaned into the breakfast bar. “No tears. Real y calm. Should I be worried?”
I rubbed my bel y to ease the fear that had rooted there. “No, I’l be al right. I just…I want it to work out between us. I want to be with him, but lying about serious issues is a deal breaker for me.” God. I couldn’t let myself even consider that we might not get past this. I was already feeling antsy. The need to be with Gideon was a frantic beat in my blood.
“You’re a tough cookie, baby girl. I’m proud of you.” He came to me, linked our arms, and turned off the kitchen lights. “Let’s crash and start a new day when we wake up.”
“I thought things were going wel with you and Trey.” His grin was glorious. “Honey, I think I’m in love.”
“With who?” I leaned my cheek against his shoulder.
“Trey or the blonde?”
“Trey, sil y. The blonde just provided a workout.” I had a lot to say about that, but it wasn’t the time to get into Cary’s history of sabotaging his own happiness. And maybe focusing on how good things were with Trey was the best way to handle this instance of it. “So you’ve final y fal en for a good guy.
We should celebrate.”
“Hey, that’s my line.”
The next morning dawned with an odd surreality. I made it to work, and then through most of my prelunch day in a kind of chil y fog. I couldn’t get warm enough, despite wearing a cardigan over my blouse and a scarf that didn’t match either one. It took me a few minutes longer to process requests than it should have, and I couldn’t shake a feeling of dread.
Gideon made no contact with me whatsoever.
Nothing on my smartphone or e-mail after my text last night. Nothing in my e-mail inbox. No interoffice note.
The silence was excruciating. Especial y when the day’s Google alert hit my inbox and I saw the photos and phone videos of me and Gideon in Bryant Park.
Seeing how we looked together—the passion and need, the painful longing on our faces, and the gratefulness of reconciliation—was bittersweet.
Pain twisted in my chest.
If we couldn’t work this out, would I ever stop thinking about him and wishing we had?
I struggled to pul myself together. Mark was meeting with Gideon today. Maybe that’s why Gideon hadn’t felt pressed to contact me. Or maybe he was just real y busy. I knew he had to be, considering his business calendar. And as far as I knew, we stil had plans to go to the gym after work. I exhaled in a rush and told myself that things would straighten out somehow. They just had to.
It was quarter to noon when my desk phone rang.
Seeing from the readout that the cal was coming from reception, I sighed with disappointment and answered.
“Hey, Eva,” Megumi said cheerily. “You have a Magdalene Perez here to see you.”
“Do I?” I stared at my monitor, confused and irritated. Had the Bryant Park photos lured Magdalene out from under whatever trol bridge she cal ed home?
Regardless of the reason, I had no interest in talking to her. “Keep her up there for me, wil you? I have to take care of something first.”
“Sure. I’l tel her to have a seat.”
